Anatomy of a Dagger

Baltimore 352

It was once said by Gary Cohen that there were 12,386,344 ways to lose a baseball game. And that’s not an exaggerated, made up number that doesn’t exist. This was the number actually cited by the G in GKR.

For most of their existence, the New York Mets play as if they’re embarking on an eternal pursuit to lose a game in a manner not listed under the 12,386,344 losses. It’s an undertaking not unlike the search for the next prime integer, Sasquatch, or a better mouse trap. I’m looking forward to waking up, flipping on Sportscenter during the five minutes out of the hour that they’re not talking about the NFL, and hearing Tim Kurkjian tell me that the last time a team tied a game with two outs in the ninth on a home run, then lost the game on a grand slam in the tenth was in 1820 when the Brooklyn Horse N’ Buggies defeated Georgia Tech … or something.

I’m not sure this was the 12,386,345th loss, but this one was crushing. I very rarely like to pin too much importance or sorrow on one loss and call it “the absolute end”, or come on here and say “that’s it, it’s over”. It’s a long season, and most anything is possible. But this is a series that the Mets needed to do some damage in, and a loss as bizarre and mind numbing as this just might be the one that broke Mr. Met’s back when we look back in October and say “yup, that was one we should have had.”

The Mets should have had this one because all David Wright had to do was make a simple throw to second to start a double play in the fourth inning. Lucas Duda’s home run in the ninth would have won the game and not tied it if not for that as the run that should have been squashed at second came home on a sac fly.

They also should have won because Wright’s scorching shot to shortstop in the ninth, on most nights, hits Hanley Ramirez in the tongue or the liver and bounces off of him fourteen more times before rolling harmlessly away. Against the Mets? Either the ball caroms off Ramirez to the second baseman for a double play, or Hanley gets motivated like he was last night and makes a spectacular play. Worst defensive shortstop known to mankind, if you believe what you read … but against the Mets he’s on a mission from Satan. (Keith Hernandez kills this guy all night, and rightfully so … so of course Ramirez makes that play.)

The Angel Pagan play in the ninth where he foolishly took second as Mike Stanton loafed after a single actually turned out okay. Think about it, Jason Bay grounded to third in the next at-bat. If Pagan isn’t so reckless, that’s a double play and the Mets lose in a fashion doesn’t make us want to spike our orange juice with Liquid Plumber, only make us want to rip Bay’s throat out … which is normal (hey, at least Bay wasted no time in reaching his home run quota for August). But because Pagan took second base by the width of his beard clippings, Lucas Duda gets an at-bat and sends Leo Nunez’s pitch to Shake Shack … the one in Washington (poachers.)

Then the tenth, and the truly insane. And by insane, of course I mean Daniel Murphy. (Because if you have insanity without Murphy, then he’ll bitch at not being invited to that party.) Now consider that just the day before, Murphy got clipped off first base as he tagged up on a fly ball when the two other runners did not. So now flash forward to Monday, and now Daniel Murphy is the first baseman, and Dwayne Wise is the runner that strayed off first after a base hit when neither of the other runners felt like advancing. Think about this for a second, Murphy makes a bonehead play one day, then the very next night he has a runner hung up in the exact same spot! He’s looking at Dwayne Wise caught off first and he sees himself in the mirror from hell!

And he lets him go back to the base!!!

(I think the last time this happened in two straight games was back in that same 1820 Brooklyn Horse N’ Buggie game.)

Now if Terry Collins does something dumb at that point and pitches to Stanton with first base open, then it’s only a 6-3 loss instead of a 7-3 loss. If Warthen gets a case of righty/lefty matchupitis, then that’s exactly what happens. More likely, Stanton’s biceps brush Jason Isringhausen on his way to the plate and Isringhausen says “screw this” and holds up four fingers himself. But Murphy doesn’t give him that luxury, and Stanton hits one to Parsons Boulevard. (Citi Field ain’t too big for him, is it?) And now the Mets are down one in a series they absolutely need to win. Now they have to face Brad Hand and Clay Hensley and run the Florida table. And if you don’t believe that the Mets can ever lose to a guy named Brad Hand, then you haven’t been watching the Mets lose 12,386,344 games.

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