Final Score: Nationals 2, Mets 0.
Dame of the Game:
John Lannan: Win, 5.2 IP, 5 H, 1 BB, 2 K, 0 R. Stephen who? In his third start of the year, Lannan pitched excellently to lower his ERA to 2.41. What’s that? Oh yes that’s right, Strasburg. Stephen Strasburg…….god I still miss him.
Shame of the Game:
Jon Rauch: 1 IP, 1 H, 1 ER, 1 K. Rauch immediately allowed an important insurance home run to Desmond upon entering. We can all thank him for his first useful contribution to the world since getting that jar down from the top shelf thanks to his height.
I might be the first person in history to say, “that sure was a fun Mets game, I’ll happily go again soon!” After seeing the Nationals play in Queens on Monday, I decided to go back for Wednesday’s game. It was a thrilling experience, one that I will never forget. Unlike Mets fans, who down a pill bottle after each game to try and develop some sort of amnesia to escape the pain. I took the subway out from Manhattan and found it to be packed. Am I in for a raucous crowd tonight? The answer clearly became “no,” as many of them left 2 stops before proving themselves to be commuters. That “no” was further solidified as I walked past the parking lot, no longer being used as spillover for the US Open.
I entered the stadium and quickly made my way down to the dugout. Usually off-limits for non-ticket holders, the guard had simply left. While showing up for your job is usually a requirement, I guess that’s not the case at Citi Field. Just look at the Mets, they rarely show up and they’re somehow still employed.
For the second straight game I went to, the Mets were only out for a brief time after the gates opened. They quickly retreated into the clubhouse to do god knows what. Perhaps they’re having sex and doing cocaine, much like the last championship team to grace this borough. But more likely they’re masturbating because nobody will touch their failure, and can’t even afford cocaine with the team in so much financial trouble.
The Nats were out in full force for well over an hour, giving me plenty of chances to get autographs and snap photos. It also gave me ample time to internally mock all the ugly/bad players that I outwardly do on this site on a daily basis. The stadium echoed with me screaming things (in my head) like Tom you should probably not be that ugly, and Sean you should probably not fuck that house. All present laughed a hearty laugh, except Davey Johnson who was too frail and elderly to crack a smile without also cracking his entire skeleton.
The game began with the Nationals striking out again and again and again and again. Then they singled, and then they fouled out. But then they added one more again. Throughout the night, Mets pitcher Matt Harvey manhandled the Nats by striking out 10 in just 5 innings. Harvey is just like the rabbit of the same name. Tall. White. Fond of associating with outcasts, in this case from other MLB teams. But in the end, anyone who believes in Harvey should probably be committed to an insane asylum. Because believing in Matt would mean you believe that a Mets player can do good, and that is just lunacy.
Wednesday was originally supposed to be Strasburg’s final start of the season. I had set aside rags to sop up the tears, Zoloft to quell the urges, and I had even planned to set Mike Rizzo’s clock back a month so as to maybe tricking him to let Strasburg go through the playoffs. But before I could do that, Stephen was shut down out of the blue. So John Lannan returned tonight to fill the void left by Strasburg. And boy, was the difference negligible. Assuming you find the difference between a 98 and 89 mph fastball negligible. And a K/9 above 9 and below 5. And so so so many other important things… But the end result was great, with Lannan pitching nearly 6 innings of shutout ball. Still, it didn’t feel right. It’s like producing a child through sex vs. using artificial insemination. Both get the job done, but one way is so much more exciting and enjoyable. Of course I mean artificial insemination, cause we all know girls have cooties.
The offense did not need to do much, with the great Nats pitching. Still, the offense needs to do something, a memo clearly not distributed in the Mets clubhouse earlier today. Or any day. Ryan Zimmerman hit a HR in the 4th, and Desmond hit one to solidify the lead later in the 8th. This is a powerful club right now. I think to honor that, we need to introduce a new food item at Nationals Park, called “The Powerful Club.” It’s a normal club sandwich, with that extra kick. A little bit of hot sauce, and 1000 volts of electricity being sent through your body. Talk about a unique ballpark eating experience. Unique in that it can only be done once before the team is sued and shut down for murder.
In the end, the Nats ended up sweeping the Mets and going up 8.5 games on Atlanta. Their magic number to clinch a playoff spot is 5, and just 11 to clinch the division. The last time the Nats were so close to success was never. This is really uncharted territory. What do we do if we get there? Will we feel some rush of enlightened emotion, taking us to some sort of never before felt nirvana? Will we finally reach the pinnacle of happiness like we have seen so many achieve before?
Or will we be swept in the first round by the Milwaukee Brewers? That would suck.