Realistic Romanticism

I was out of pocket today. It was one of those instances where I was enjoying food, drink, and good company. So much so to the point where I had forgotten that I had the ability to get baseball updates on my phone. (I’m supposed to get them automatically, but my phone is Julio Franco old so it doesn’t always happen unless I’m in an unobstructed path to Mars.) I was reminded of this ability when a friend of mine … one with a better phone … told me the Mets were down 4-2.

This spurred a conversation about David Wright, which started with him moving down in the order, and ended with him retiring at the end of the season if the Mets won the World Series. We like to talk as if we know what’s going on in a player’s head … probably because we don’t have the applicable experience to talk about the mechanics of a major league swing. And most of us, thankfully, don’t have the necessary experiences to tell you what spinal stenosis is like. (I’ve had back surgery, and I’m still not in that ballpark.) So what we talk about as baseball fans mostly boils down to romanticism. It’s silly, but it’s all we’re qualified for. And once we start talking about it, it goes completely down the wormhole and we have Wright retired before you know it.

And what’s sad in the case of talking about Wright is that the romanticism doesn’t end with the Hall of Fame anymore. It doesn’t even end with a walk-off hit in the World Series. What it ends with now, as my friend put it, is “pulling a Cuddyer”. Romance, when it comes to David Wright, always seems to end in realism these days. Even when we talk about the romance required to leave about $67 million on the table, it’s still a sobering ending because … well, $67 million. It’s painful to talk about Wright in terms of what his career could have been or should have been, even if his career doesn’t end in an early retirement. Maybe not as painful as the paths to destruction that a guy like Dwight Gooden chose to take before it took him, because Wright is getting every ounce out of career that is physically possible. But something tells me that when we’re looking back at David’s career, we’re going to remember it as much for what might have been as we will for what it was. It’s a shame.

I got home in time to see the ninth inning. Wright got the game winning hit with the bases loaded and one out to defeat the Brewers 5-4. (All due respect to Yoenis Cespedes for putting the Mets in position to win with a clutch two run home run in the seventh … but y’all know how I feel about that cat. And I’m going to stick to talking about things that I actually saw.) Perhaps we put Wright in a rocking chair a little too soon. Perhaps it’s the at-bat that will put him in a good frame of mind and bring him back to some basic, good habits for the rest of the season. I’m all for letting history decide that. But one thing I will say is this: I loved … loved that he swung at a 3-0 pitch for the win. A guy who has been striking out as much as Wright has no business following the worst unwritten rule in the game by taking 3-0 just for the sake of taking it. No good can come of Wright letting the pitcher (whose name was Blazek but read to me as “Blaze K”, which is how he should wear it on the back of his jersey because that’s awesome) get back in the count and have even a puncher’s chance to strike him out. So good for Wright for getting himself back on track and keeping the Mets on their same track. And hopefully he’ll shut guys like us up for a while before we have him doing Metamucil commercials and hosting Pre-Game Live before his time is truly up.

Today’s Hate List

Major League Baseball, who is thinking about raising the strike zone to the top of the kneecap. Sure … right when the Mets have a swing and miss rotation, you want everybody to put more balls in play. Thanks a lot. I’m automatically blaming Joe Torre for this.