Last night’s game against the Phils was a doozy. I couldn’t make the SNY party at the Hawaiian Tropic Zone, but I imagine all the bikini models were nervously biting their fingernails straight through the 13th inning. Or maybe that was just me. Ugh, I had such a nervous, twisty stomach that started as soon as our lovely 7-run lead shrank to a measly 1-run margin. I was hanging out with a (happy) Red Sox fan who provided decent moral support, but still. It was a tough loss.
BUT. It’s not even September yet. It’s quite possible every game will be a nail-biter from now on. The Mets have some adversity to face. No Billy Wagner. No John Maine. And now a quad strain for Ramon Castro. So, while every game is important–perhaps more so at this point than any other year I’ve been a fan so far–we still have enough games left that the race is on and undecided. If we’re still separated by half a game in two weeks? Then I’ll be wringing my hands. For the meantime, the offense and bullpen will just have to get it together and pick each other up. Is it hoping for a miracle to win games without a closer? If it is, then that’s what I expect.
I’ll end with a Will-ism that once made me laugh. What do we say about Aaron throwing 60 pitches (all watched with my hands over my face) without giving up a run? L’Cheilman!
I’ll be at Matty’s bash at Butterfield 8 tonight. Say hi if you see me!