It has been nearly nine full years since Mike Piazza last played a game at Shea Stadium as a member of the enemy.
In that last contest, on August 21, 1997, he hit a home run. He also homered, off Dwight Gooden no less, the first time he came to Shea Stadium with the enemy, back when he was an unknown rookie on April 27, 1993.
As good as he was when he was a Met, Piazza has been 10 times better against the Mets. In 48 games against the Flushing 9, Piazza has a .341 batting average with 12 home runs and 35 RBI. Among active players with at least 200 plate appearances against the Mets, only Derek Jeter (.374) and Todd Helton (.362) have higher batting averages.
The one good thing about Piazza's return to Shea Stadium on Tuesday night. He can't beat the Mets in walk-off fashion.
But that doesn't mean he hasn't done it before.
We flash back to July 8, 1994, just prior to the All-Star Break, with the humdrum Mets closing out the first half in Los Angeles for four games. The pitching matchup for the second of this series pitted Pete Smith against Orel Hershiser, so you wouldn't exactly term that favorable, nor would you expect much from the Mets after Piazza's first inning blast gave the Dodgers a 2-0 lead.
But the 1994 squad had a little bit more fight than the embarassing predecessors of the year prior. They got the score back to 2-2 after four innings and Smith rebounded to match Hershiser pitch for pitch.
The Mets thought they had taken the lead in the 7th inning when, with two on and two out, Todd Hundley creamed Hershiser's last pitch of the night to centerfield. Brett Butler raced back, leaped and stretched over the fence and robbed Hundley of a 3-run homer. The Dodgers crowd gave Butler a standing ovation described to be as loud and as long as there had been at Chavez Ravine in quite some time.
The catch was the story of the game and overshadowed the ending of this contest, which didn't come until the 10th inning. The Mets mustered little after Butler's snatch and it was just a matter of time before the Dodgers would seize the opportunity to win.
With two outs and nobody on Delino Deshields singled, than stole second, a move that could potentially take the bat out of the hands of the Dodgers best hitter. Instead, Piazza, with the count 3-2, got too good of a pitch from Mets reliever Roger Mason. The result was a single to right field that plated Deshields with the winning run.
You would think that the Mets would have learned their lesson at that point, and perhaps they did, but by the 14th inning of their game in Los Angeles on April 9, 1997, it might have slipped from memory.
You see, that night was the last of a grueling 9-game West Coast trip to start the season and it was one that didn't begin pleasantly, thanks to a 1o-run inning on Opening Day and three extra-inning walk-off defeats.
The last came that Wednesday and dropped the squad to 3-6. The Dodgers flawless bullpen, which hadn't allowed a run all season to that day, finally yielded one with two outs in the 9th, when new Met John Olerud's single tied the score, 2-2.
If there was one positive to come out of the day, it was that the game marked a turning point for another new Met, Rick Reed, who threw five scoreless innings, keeping the game even from the 9th through the 13th.
With Reed out in the 14th, the Dodgers again seized upon the chance to win. Butler reached on an infield hit, and went to second on a sacrifice. Raul Mondesi's ground ball to third was butchered by corner man Butch Huskey, giving the Dodgers runners on the corners with one out.
It was here that Bobby Valentine decided to push his luck. Rather than have pitcher Barry Manuel issue an intentional pass to set up a force at any base (and bring up Eric Karros, who hit into a DP earlier in the day), he had Manuel pitch to Piazza. That's what we in the biz call a mismatch. On a 1-0 pitch, Piazza lined a game-ending single to center.
The Mets were fortunate that of the 11 games they played against the Dodgers that season, that Piazza only played in six of them. In 1997, Piazza hit a career-best .362 with 40 home runs and 124 RBI in 152 games.
The next season, the Mets came to their senses and realized that if they couldn't beat Piazza, they might as well get him to join them. By the end of May 1998, Piazza was a member of the team and a significant player in the club's history. For that, on Tuesday night, many will show their thanks.
True Metazzas know...Active players with more than one walk-off RBI against the Mets include Jim Edmonds (3), Brian Jordan (2), Derrek Lee (2), Mark Kotsay (2), and Mike Piazza (2).
Showing posts with label Mike Piazza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Piazza. Show all posts
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Monster Mike
For those who linked from Metsblog.com, you can visit the rest of this site by clicking here
Mike Piazza has made it a regular habit during his Mets career to go on these torrid hot streaks during which he delivers big hits in bunches and is impossible to get out. These runs take on several different forms but the best part about them is the oomph they provide for the rest of the team. The Mets have wasted some of Piazza's big hits, but they rarely waste one of Piazza's mega runs.
There's the half-long version, which looks something like this
.351 BA
18 HR
63 RBI
.656 SLG Pct
.430 OBP
There's the month-long version, which looks something like this
.375 BA
9 HR
20 RBI
.750 SLG Pct
.462 OBP
And there's the week-long version, which resmembles something akin to this
.500 BA
4 HR
9 RBI
1.292 SLG Pct
.571 OBP
The first set of numbers are his after the All-Star Break in 1998. The second set comes from May, 2000. The last group is the one to which we refer today, as it comes from May 10-16, 2003.
There's always one at-bat that seems to trigger a Piazza push, where, the monster, as John Stearns liked to call him, comes out of the cage. In this case, that swing was a walk-off home run.
The Mets had some unsettled issues as they entered their game with the Padres on May 10, dealing with both on the field quandries (when to move Piazza to first base) and off-the-field stupidity (an ill-timed, in-game haircut) involving their players. The main problem was that the team just wasn't very good. The record showed them at 14-21 and an ugly seven-games under at that.
They were a team that needed a jolt in the worst way. Piazza tried to provide that.
This game was tied 2-2 as the Padres scored once in the fourth and fifth, and the Mets immediately matched the output in their turn at bat. Al Leiter was sharp for seven innings, allowing only two runs and four hits, and the bullpen kept the game even through regulation and into the first frame of bonus baseball.
There has been talk in the sportspages recently about the Yankees usage of pricey starter Jaret Wright. On this occasion, Wright happened to be the wrong man to be on the mound for the Padres.
Jay Bell led off the bottom of the 10th with a single, bringing up Piazza, who hadn't been impressive the last couple of days, and who had gone 11 games without hitting a home run. This time, he crushed a 1-0 pitch, hitting it over the fence in left-center field for a game-winning home run. The win had a carryover effect the next day, as the Mets topped the Padres by a run to get some momentum going into a West Coast swing.
The Flushing 9 won their opener in Colorado as Piazza had three hits and two runs scored. The next day Piazza homered twice, but Tom Glavine and the bullpen frittered away a 7-0 lead and the Mets suffered a crushing defeat. In the series finale, Piazza homered again, but the Mets suffered another late-inning loss. The loss sent the Mets spinning into San Francisco, where they lost again.
The only thing worse than three straight losses that could happen for the Mets was that their best hitter could sustain a devastating injury. On May 16, Piazza, in his second at-bat against Jason Schmidt, jerked away from an inside pitch and tore a groin muscle. He would miss three months, effectively ending his days as a dominant player. Yes, Piazza had a home run and five RBIs in his first game back, and yes, he's had brief flashes of greatness the last two seasons, but he hasn't been the same player since. His presence is missing that extra oomph. Those runs of dominance, those that have led to the standing ovations he receives in what are likely his final days, are a thing of the past. But they are worth remembering.
True Metmikes know...The three most noteworthy catchers in Mets history- Mike Piazza, Jerry Grote and Gary Carter- each were the decisive batter in five Mets walk-off wins.
Mike Piazza has made it a regular habit during his Mets career to go on these torrid hot streaks during which he delivers big hits in bunches and is impossible to get out. These runs take on several different forms but the best part about them is the oomph they provide for the rest of the team. The Mets have wasted some of Piazza's big hits, but they rarely waste one of Piazza's mega runs.
There's the half-long version, which looks something like this
.351 BA
18 HR
63 RBI
.656 SLG Pct
.430 OBP
There's the month-long version, which looks something like this
.375 BA
9 HR
20 RBI
.750 SLG Pct
.462 OBP
And there's the week-long version, which resmembles something akin to this
.500 BA
4 HR
9 RBI
1.292 SLG Pct
.571 OBP
The first set of numbers are his after the All-Star Break in 1998. The second set comes from May, 2000. The last group is the one to which we refer today, as it comes from May 10-16, 2003.
There's always one at-bat that seems to trigger a Piazza push, where, the monster, as John Stearns liked to call him, comes out of the cage. In this case, that swing was a walk-off home run.
The Mets had some unsettled issues as they entered their game with the Padres on May 10, dealing with both on the field quandries (when to move Piazza to first base) and off-the-field stupidity (an ill-timed, in-game haircut) involving their players. The main problem was that the team just wasn't very good. The record showed them at 14-21 and an ugly seven-games under at that.
They were a team that needed a jolt in the worst way. Piazza tried to provide that.
This game was tied 2-2 as the Padres scored once in the fourth and fifth, and the Mets immediately matched the output in their turn at bat. Al Leiter was sharp for seven innings, allowing only two runs and four hits, and the bullpen kept the game even through regulation and into the first frame of bonus baseball.
There has been talk in the sportspages recently about the Yankees usage of pricey starter Jaret Wright. On this occasion, Wright happened to be the wrong man to be on the mound for the Padres.
Jay Bell led off the bottom of the 10th with a single, bringing up Piazza, who hadn't been impressive the last couple of days, and who had gone 11 games without hitting a home run. This time, he crushed a 1-0 pitch, hitting it over the fence in left-center field for a game-winning home run. The win had a carryover effect the next day, as the Mets topped the Padres by a run to get some momentum going into a West Coast swing.
The Flushing 9 won their opener in Colorado as Piazza had three hits and two runs scored. The next day Piazza homered twice, but Tom Glavine and the bullpen frittered away a 7-0 lead and the Mets suffered a crushing defeat. In the series finale, Piazza homered again, but the Mets suffered another late-inning loss. The loss sent the Mets spinning into San Francisco, where they lost again.
The only thing worse than three straight losses that could happen for the Mets was that their best hitter could sustain a devastating injury. On May 16, Piazza, in his second at-bat against Jason Schmidt, jerked away from an inside pitch and tore a groin muscle. He would miss three months, effectively ending his days as a dominant player. Yes, Piazza had a home run and five RBIs in his first game back, and yes, he's had brief flashes of greatness the last two seasons, but he hasn't been the same player since. His presence is missing that extra oomph. Those runs of dominance, those that have led to the standing ovations he receives in what are likely his final days, are a thing of the past. But they are worth remembering.
True Metmikes know...The three most noteworthy catchers in Mets history- Mike Piazza, Jerry Grote and Gary Carter- each were the decisive batter in five Mets walk-off wins.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Spoilerfest
I'm interrupting this Mike Piazza tribute just briefly here to reflect on the similarities between these last two Mets games against the Phillies, and two contests of a similar nature against the 2004 Cubs.
To briefly refresh the memory, the Mets wrecked the Cubs postseason chances last season with two rather bizarre wins. In the first, they rallied from a three-run late-inning deficit with a rookie (Craig Brazell) striking the decisive blow (a walk-off home run, no less). In the second, they won a torture-filled 3-2 game against an ace pitcher (Kerry Wood) and their opponent failed to cash in on numerous scoring opportunities. The Cubs were riding a wave of momentum entering the series, but fell apart immediately afterward and failed to make the postseason.
In 2005, the Mets wrecked (perhaps) the Phillies postseason chances with two rather bizarre wins. In the first, they rallied from a three-run, late-inning deficit with a rookie (Mike Jacobs) striking the decisive blow. In the second, they won a torture-filled, 3-2 game against the Phillies ace (Jon Lieber) as their opponent failed to cash in on numerous scoring opportunities. The Phillies were riding a wave of momentum entering the series...
All that was missing was the cry of anguish from Ron Santo.
Baseball is a funny game. History tends to repeat itself and an awareness of such helps to heighten the enjoyment of the best sport in the world. That's one of the reasons why we're here.
Thanks for reading and indulging.
True Metties know... These last two Phillies losses are also reminiscent of the near-collapse of the 1999 Mets. Tuesday's game was quite similar in nature to another 3-2 game (amazing the scores always turn out the same) in which the Phillies completed a sweep of the Mets on the second-to-last Sunday of the season. The Mets wasted multiple scoring opportunities in a torturefest that ended when Rickey Henderson grounded into a double play with the bases loaded in the 9th inning. The Mets recovered and made the postseason. The Phillies might recover and turn out like the 1999 Mets. Or they might falter and turn into the 2004 Cubs. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens.
To briefly refresh the memory, the Mets wrecked the Cubs postseason chances last season with two rather bizarre wins. In the first, they rallied from a three-run late-inning deficit with a rookie (Craig Brazell) striking the decisive blow (a walk-off home run, no less). In the second, they won a torture-filled 3-2 game against an ace pitcher (Kerry Wood) and their opponent failed to cash in on numerous scoring opportunities. The Cubs were riding a wave of momentum entering the series, but fell apart immediately afterward and failed to make the postseason.
In 2005, the Mets wrecked (perhaps) the Phillies postseason chances with two rather bizarre wins. In the first, they rallied from a three-run, late-inning deficit with a rookie (Mike Jacobs) striking the decisive blow. In the second, they won a torture-filled, 3-2 game against the Phillies ace (Jon Lieber) as their opponent failed to cash in on numerous scoring opportunities. The Phillies were riding a wave of momentum entering the series...
All that was missing was the cry of anguish from Ron Santo.
Baseball is a funny game. History tends to repeat itself and an awareness of such helps to heighten the enjoyment of the best sport in the world. That's one of the reasons why we're here.
Thanks for reading and indulging.
True Metties know... These last two Phillies losses are also reminiscent of the near-collapse of the 1999 Mets. Tuesday's game was quite similar in nature to another 3-2 game (amazing the scores always turn out the same) in which the Phillies completed a sweep of the Mets on the second-to-last Sunday of the season. The Mets wasted multiple scoring opportunities in a torturefest that ended when Rickey Henderson grounded into a double play with the bases loaded in the 9th inning. The Mets recovered and made the postseason. The Phillies might recover and turn out like the 1999 Mets. Or they might falter and turn into the 2004 Cubs. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens.
I Want My Turn At Bat
I can remember a game from my disastrous final season of Little League in which we trailed by 10 runs or so in the final inning. With two outs, I was on deck,with a runner on third and two outs. The opposing pitcher threw one that was slightly askew, but our baserunner wasn't quick enough scampering down the line, and was thrown out at the plate to end the game. It wasn't a smart play at the time, but our team wasn't exactly known for it's baseball intellect.
It isn't so much the ridiculousness of the play I remember, but the reaction on the face of the batter to what happened.
"Man," he said to his mom and dad. "They didn't even give me a chance to hit."
It would be about a dozen years later that I'd see that look again, only this time, it came from a New York Met.
There was no doubt that the Mets were going to win the 162nd game of the 1999 season to either win the wild card, or set up a one game playoff against the Cincinnati Reds. Well actually, there was a lot of doubt, especially considering that the Simon men were going to be at the game. To that point, my dad and I had a history of attendance at bad Mets moments (homers by Cedeno, Pendleton and Scioscia among them), and I had just spread some negative karma a week prior, attending a game in Philadelphia. That Sunday, with the Mets trailing by a run, I had last-out clairvoyance, predicting that "The Mets will load the bases and not score." When Rickey Henderson hit into a game-ending double play with the bags drunk, my traveling companion Barry Federovitch, was ready to assault me. It got worse on the car ride home when we learned that Pokey Reese hit a walk-off home run for the Reds.
The Mets had won the previous two days and were helped by the Brewers, who beat the Reds twice to even the wild card race. Sunday's pitching matchup featured veteran Orel Hershiser for the Mets and future-Met Kris Benson for the Pirates. The PA system played "Baby I'm Ready to Go" for Hershiser's warmups, but it was the Pirates who scored first. Benson nursed a 1-0 lead into the fourth before the Mets tied it on Darryl Hamilton's RBI double.
Hershiser was terrific for 5 1/3 innings, allowing only one run and two hits. The parade of relievers that followed were also up for the challenge provided that day by Benson, who scattered just seven hits and that lone run over seven excellent innings.
The score remained even after Armando Benitez got the final out of the ninth inning and the Mets came to bat against their former farmhand, Greg Hansell. With one out, Melvin Mora singled and Edgardo Alfonzo advanced him to third base by singling him to right field. With John Olerud up next, Pirates manager Gene Lamont called for an intentional walk, figuring he had a better chance to retire Mike Piazza, who was 0-for-4 in the game, and who had a tendency to beat certain pitches into the ground for easy double plays.
Another former Met entered the game in submarine-style pitcher Brad Clontz, whose Flushing tenure lasted a mere two games in 1998. Bizarre conspiracy theorists may suggest that Clontz wanted to help out his former club, but he insisted after the game that his only desire was to get Piazzza out.
Clontz's first pitch barely made it two-thirds of the way to the plate. It skidded away from catcher Joe Oliver all the way to the backstop. Mora raced home with the winning run. It was a great moment in the history of the New York Mets. Though they were not assured of any playoff fate (rain in Milwaukee delayed the Reds-Brewers finale) for six hours, the Mets were assured of having forced a one-game playoff at worst and clinched the wild card at best. That was unbelievable, considering that on Friday they were two games back with three to play in what looked to be another season of bitter disappointment.
The best way to describe Piazza's reaction to the events that unfolded would be to use the words that the doctor used, testifying at the trial of Massachusetts vs Seinfeld, Costanza, Benes, and Kramer.
Restrained jubilation.
Piazza was no doubt elated that the Mets had won, but the look on his face said, "Man, I wanted to be the one to win this thing."
I hold no grudge against Piazza for wanting to bat in that ninth inning spot. This was the situation for which he was brought to Shea Stadium, to hit the Mets into the postseason. This was going to be his magic moment. He, like the batter in my Little League game, wanted his chance to make something special happen.
The good news for Piazza was that there were still plenty of special Mets moments to come.
True Metazza know...The Mets have had 10 walk-off wins in which the game ended on a wild pitch (there's an asterisk here, but I'll explain it another time). The last such game was this one, on October 3, 1999.
It isn't so much the ridiculousness of the play I remember, but the reaction on the face of the batter to what happened.
"Man," he said to his mom and dad. "They didn't even give me a chance to hit."
It would be about a dozen years later that I'd see that look again, only this time, it came from a New York Met.
There was no doubt that the Mets were going to win the 162nd game of the 1999 season to either win the wild card, or set up a one game playoff against the Cincinnati Reds. Well actually, there was a lot of doubt, especially considering that the Simon men were going to be at the game. To that point, my dad and I had a history of attendance at bad Mets moments (homers by Cedeno, Pendleton and Scioscia among them), and I had just spread some negative karma a week prior, attending a game in Philadelphia. That Sunday, with the Mets trailing by a run, I had last-out clairvoyance, predicting that "The Mets will load the bases and not score." When Rickey Henderson hit into a game-ending double play with the bags drunk, my traveling companion Barry Federovitch, was ready to assault me. It got worse on the car ride home when we learned that Pokey Reese hit a walk-off home run for the Reds.
The Mets had won the previous two days and were helped by the Brewers, who beat the Reds twice to even the wild card race. Sunday's pitching matchup featured veteran Orel Hershiser for the Mets and future-Met Kris Benson for the Pirates. The PA system played "Baby I'm Ready to Go" for Hershiser's warmups, but it was the Pirates who scored first. Benson nursed a 1-0 lead into the fourth before the Mets tied it on Darryl Hamilton's RBI double.
Hershiser was terrific for 5 1/3 innings, allowing only one run and two hits. The parade of relievers that followed were also up for the challenge provided that day by Benson, who scattered just seven hits and that lone run over seven excellent innings.
The score remained even after Armando Benitez got the final out of the ninth inning and the Mets came to bat against their former farmhand, Greg Hansell. With one out, Melvin Mora singled and Edgardo Alfonzo advanced him to third base by singling him to right field. With John Olerud up next, Pirates manager Gene Lamont called for an intentional walk, figuring he had a better chance to retire Mike Piazza, who was 0-for-4 in the game, and who had a tendency to beat certain pitches into the ground for easy double plays.
Another former Met entered the game in submarine-style pitcher Brad Clontz, whose Flushing tenure lasted a mere two games in 1998. Bizarre conspiracy theorists may suggest that Clontz wanted to help out his former club, but he insisted after the game that his only desire was to get Piazzza out.
Clontz's first pitch barely made it two-thirds of the way to the plate. It skidded away from catcher Joe Oliver all the way to the backstop. Mora raced home with the winning run. It was a great moment in the history of the New York Mets. Though they were not assured of any playoff fate (rain in Milwaukee delayed the Reds-Brewers finale) for six hours, the Mets were assured of having forced a one-game playoff at worst and clinched the wild card at best. That was unbelievable, considering that on Friday they were two games back with three to play in what looked to be another season of bitter disappointment.
The best way to describe Piazza's reaction to the events that unfolded would be to use the words that the doctor used, testifying at the trial of Massachusetts vs Seinfeld, Costanza, Benes, and Kramer.
Restrained jubilation.
Piazza was no doubt elated that the Mets had won, but the look on his face said, "Man, I wanted to be the one to win this thing."
I hold no grudge against Piazza for wanting to bat in that ninth inning spot. This was the situation for which he was brought to Shea Stadium, to hit the Mets into the postseason. This was going to be his magic moment. He, like the batter in my Little League game, wanted his chance to make something special happen.
The good news for Piazza was that there were still plenty of special Mets moments to come.
True Metazza know...The Mets have had 10 walk-off wins in which the game ended on a wild pitch (there's an asterisk here, but I'll explain it another time). The last such game was this one, on October 3, 1999.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The Bells Are Ringing
Mike Piazza's first walk-off home run as a Met came on April 28, 1999.
Piazza was in the midst of a rough stretch. A knee injury sidelined him for two weeks and when he came back, he didn't look too good. He had one hit in his first 13 at-bats coming off the disabled list and left seven runners on base in an ugly performance against the Padres the day before.
Trevor Hoffman, aka "Hell's Bells" (for the theme song they play when he enters a home game), turned out to be the cure for what ailed him. The Padres entered this game against the Mets having won 181 consecutive games when leading after eight innings, and they carried a 3-2 lead into the final frame after tallying twice in the eighth inning against Armando Benitez. That, in what turned out to become a familiar pattern, spoiled a good start by Al Leiter, who allowed just one run through the first seven frames.
Anyhow, John Olerud led off the ninth inning with a single, setting the stage for Piazza to face Hoffman. They had met before, with Piazza having success, and they would meet again, with Piazza having more success. Hoffman, who throws a devastating changeup, threw a fastball that Piazza crushed the other way, to right field. Hoffman, who gave up two home runs the previous season, knew immediately that it was gone. Piazza did as well. He took a look at the flight path, did his best Dante Bichette (see first game at Coors Field vs the Mets), glancing quickly into the Mets dugout, took seven steps and punched the air with his right fist, twice (as seen on the 1999 highlight film "Amazin Again") and got pounded on the helmet about 1,986 times upon crossing home plate.
Those who believe that wins like that can spark big things should take note. That home run marked the start of a six-game winning streak for the Mets and a five-game losing streak for the Padres.
On a personal note I have to invoke the words of WFAN talk-show host Chris Russo here and acknowledge that "I didn't see that" other than via highlights. I was working at the newspaper that night and there was a time that I was there (it lasted maybe a few days) in which we (specifically I) were advised not to watch the Mets because it would be too distracting to the staff. So when I got the jubilant phone call from my dad, I remember being a little ticked off. It wouldn't be the first time I'd miss a walk-off win and it wouldn't be the last. I do remember telling the newsroom that "Piazza just hit one off Hell's Bells to win" and the first thing I was asked was "Why would they play Hell's Bells at Shea Stadium?"
It wasn't long after that that we were allowed to watch Mets games at work again.
True Metazza know...The Mets have had 57 walk-off wins during Mike Piazza's tenure with the Mets (including postseason), 15 of which have been ended by home runs.
Piazza was in the midst of a rough stretch. A knee injury sidelined him for two weeks and when he came back, he didn't look too good. He had one hit in his first 13 at-bats coming off the disabled list and left seven runners on base in an ugly performance against the Padres the day before.
Trevor Hoffman, aka "Hell's Bells" (for the theme song they play when he enters a home game), turned out to be the cure for what ailed him. The Padres entered this game against the Mets having won 181 consecutive games when leading after eight innings, and they carried a 3-2 lead into the final frame after tallying twice in the eighth inning against Armando Benitez. That, in what turned out to become a familiar pattern, spoiled a good start by Al Leiter, who allowed just one run through the first seven frames.
Anyhow, John Olerud led off the ninth inning with a single, setting the stage for Piazza to face Hoffman. They had met before, with Piazza having success, and they would meet again, with Piazza having more success. Hoffman, who throws a devastating changeup, threw a fastball that Piazza crushed the other way, to right field. Hoffman, who gave up two home runs the previous season, knew immediately that it was gone. Piazza did as well. He took a look at the flight path, did his best Dante Bichette (see first game at Coors Field vs the Mets), glancing quickly into the Mets dugout, took seven steps and punched the air with his right fist, twice (as seen on the 1999 highlight film "Amazin Again") and got pounded on the helmet about 1,986 times upon crossing home plate.
Those who believe that wins like that can spark big things should take note. That home run marked the start of a six-game winning streak for the Mets and a five-game losing streak for the Padres.
On a personal note I have to invoke the words of WFAN talk-show host Chris Russo here and acknowledge that "I didn't see that" other than via highlights. I was working at the newspaper that night and there was a time that I was there (it lasted maybe a few days) in which we (specifically I) were advised not to watch the Mets because it would be too distracting to the staff. So when I got the jubilant phone call from my dad, I remember being a little ticked off. It wouldn't be the first time I'd miss a walk-off win and it wouldn't be the last. I do remember telling the newsroom that "Piazza just hit one off Hell's Bells to win" and the first thing I was asked was "Why would they play Hell's Bells at Shea Stadium?"
It wasn't long after that that we were allowed to watch Mets games at work again.
True Metazza know...The Mets have had 57 walk-off wins during Mike Piazza's tenure with the Mets (including postseason), 15 of which have been ended by home runs.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Minutiae Break: The Slowest Mets
This likely being the final week of Mike Piazza's Mets career, we'll take the time to pay tribute to his walk-off accomplishments.
That comes tomorrow (aka Tuesday). Today we have some fun.
I share a trait with Mike Piazza. I walk faster than I run. In second grade, I peaked speed-wise. I ran the anchor leg in class relay races, often against our speedsters, Leon Johnson and Daniel Caraballo. I won a few. I lost most of the time. It was all downhill from there.
When Mike Piazza runs, he runs hard. I grant him that and applaud the effort every time he grounds to short. The problem is that at his fastest, he runs at the speed of a second-grader. It is one of his two primary flaws (the inability to throw out basestealers being his other foible). I think Mookie Wilson could reach second base on a ground ball single down the line before Mike Piazza would reach first. Keep in mind that Mookie is approaching 50 years of age.
If we're going to toast Mike Piazza this week, than we must roast him as well. We have done a "Tidrow List" in tribute to bad Mets relief pitchers and a "McRae List" for Mets that were difficult to watch. We shall honor Mike's sprint-deficiency by creating a list in his honor.I present "The Piazza List," a celebration of the slowest Mets of my lifetime (since 1975).
Position Players
Mike Jacobs- Thankfully there is someone to whom Piazza can pass the torch. Jacobs is someone whose foot speed is about 1/100th of his bat speed. Jacobs may turn out to be Richie Sexson or more likely, Ben Broussard, but I'm willing to guess that if he ever gets 500 AB in a season, not only will he strike out 140 times, but he'll probably lead the majors in GIDP. If they add a skills competition at the All-Star Game, might I suggest a Slowest Man Competition (Televised on ESPN8, The Ocho). The top two seeds could be Jacobs and ex-Met slug Jason Phillips. Jacobs has an outside chance to break Carlos Baerga's Mets mark for most GIDP in a season of less than 100 AB (8 in 1996).
Octogenarian Staub- That's the name I'm giving to Rusty Version 2.0, one of the most popular Mets of all-time, because by the time he made his mark as the great pinch-hitter with the looping swing, it took him 120 steps to go 90 feet.
Elliott Maddox- There's not much worse than a baseball player who thinks he's fast, but really is not. There was a time when Elliott Maddox had speed, like 1972 when he stole 20 bases for the Rangers. By the time he reached the Mets, that dashing ability, and his baseball acumen had unfortunately evaporated. Maddox attempted to steal 28 bases with the Mets. He was caught 22 times.
Mike Vail and Jose Vizcaino- Madox's baserunning issues were rivaled only by two men, Vail and Vizcaino. Vail never stole a base as a Met, but was gunned down on eight occasions. Vizcaino somehow stole a base in 1994, but was given the thumb on 11 other occasions.
Willie Montanez- No Mets player has had more plate appearances without a triple than Shea-Hey Willie's 1,121. Yet he had nine stolen bases. Go figure.
Mackey Sasser- And no Met had more plate appearances without a steal than Mackey Sasser's 1,002 (0-for-3 in steal attempts as a Met, one career stolen base came with the 1993 Mariners). Yet, he had five triples with the Mets. Go figure. The other trait he shared with Piazza: an inability to cleanly throw the ball to second base.
Honorable Mentions: Ron Hodges, Mo Vaughn, Joe (4 GIDP in one game) Torre, Butch Huskey, John Olerud, and Barry Lyons among others
Pitchers
Sid Fernandez- In 496 at-bats with the Mets, the heavily-built Fernandez had two triples. Explain to me how he finished with two more than Rickey Henderson had during his Mets tenure? Fernandez is best known in my inner circle for injuring himself while legging out a three-bagger in the midst of a no-hitter against the Giants in 1987. Somewhere a cry of anguish is heard on the island state of Hawaii: "Why didn't I stop at first base??????"
Alejandro Pena- No reliever in Mets history walked more slowly from bullpen to mound than Pena (rivaled in baseball only by Lee Smith), whose unimpressive 96-game run in 1990-91 with the Flushing 9 preceded an amazing couple of months with the 1991 Braves, whom he carried to Game 7 of the World Series. I forget who said it (Tim McCarver or Tommy Lasorda?) but someone said of Alejandro: "He even stands slow."
James Baldwin- When Baldwin came in to pitch for the Orioles against the Yankees the other day, YES Network broadcaster Michael Kay noted that nobody in baseball walked from the mound to the dugout more slowly than this Met for a Minute (15.00 ERA in two starts in 2004), whom I subsequently dubbed "The Patron Saint of Four-and-a-Half Hour Games."
Steve Trachsel- He is a must for this list since he is well documented as one of the slowest workers in baseball (along with Russ Ortiz). A Greg Maddux-Trachsel matchup is fascinating, more as a battle of wills between two contrasting moundsmen, than for the game itself. They met during Trachsel's Mets tenure on September 22, 2001, but Maddux, perhaps spooked by Trachsels' aura, lasted only 1/3 of an inning. The rematch came July 17, 2003 when Maddux pitched a complete game and won in a very manageable 2:26
That comes tomorrow (aka Tuesday). Today we have some fun.
I share a trait with Mike Piazza. I walk faster than I run. In second grade, I peaked speed-wise. I ran the anchor leg in class relay races, often against our speedsters, Leon Johnson and Daniel Caraballo. I won a few. I lost most of the time. It was all downhill from there.
When Mike Piazza runs, he runs hard. I grant him that and applaud the effort every time he grounds to short. The problem is that at his fastest, he runs at the speed of a second-grader. It is one of his two primary flaws (the inability to throw out basestealers being his other foible). I think Mookie Wilson could reach second base on a ground ball single down the line before Mike Piazza would reach first. Keep in mind that Mookie is approaching 50 years of age.
If we're going to toast Mike Piazza this week, than we must roast him as well. We have done a "Tidrow List" in tribute to bad Mets relief pitchers and a "McRae List" for Mets that were difficult to watch. We shall honor Mike's sprint-deficiency by creating a list in his honor.I present "The Piazza List," a celebration of the slowest Mets of my lifetime (since 1975).
Position Players
Mike Jacobs- Thankfully there is someone to whom Piazza can pass the torch. Jacobs is someone whose foot speed is about 1/100th of his bat speed. Jacobs may turn out to be Richie Sexson or more likely, Ben Broussard, but I'm willing to guess that if he ever gets 500 AB in a season, not only will he strike out 140 times, but he'll probably lead the majors in GIDP. If they add a skills competition at the All-Star Game, might I suggest a Slowest Man Competition (Televised on ESPN8, The Ocho). The top two seeds could be Jacobs and ex-Met slug Jason Phillips. Jacobs has an outside chance to break Carlos Baerga's Mets mark for most GIDP in a season of less than 100 AB (8 in 1996).
Octogenarian Staub- That's the name I'm giving to Rusty Version 2.0, one of the most popular Mets of all-time, because by the time he made his mark as the great pinch-hitter with the looping swing, it took him 120 steps to go 90 feet.
Elliott Maddox- There's not much worse than a baseball player who thinks he's fast, but really is not. There was a time when Elliott Maddox had speed, like 1972 when he stole 20 bases for the Rangers. By the time he reached the Mets, that dashing ability, and his baseball acumen had unfortunately evaporated. Maddox attempted to steal 28 bases with the Mets. He was caught 22 times.
Mike Vail and Jose Vizcaino- Madox's baserunning issues were rivaled only by two men, Vail and Vizcaino. Vail never stole a base as a Met, but was gunned down on eight occasions. Vizcaino somehow stole a base in 1994, but was given the thumb on 11 other occasions.
Willie Montanez- No Mets player has had more plate appearances without a triple than Shea-Hey Willie's 1,121. Yet he had nine stolen bases. Go figure.
Mackey Sasser- And no Met had more plate appearances without a steal than Mackey Sasser's 1,002 (0-for-3 in steal attempts as a Met, one career stolen base came with the 1993 Mariners). Yet, he had five triples with the Mets. Go figure. The other trait he shared with Piazza: an inability to cleanly throw the ball to second base.
Honorable Mentions: Ron Hodges, Mo Vaughn, Joe (4 GIDP in one game) Torre, Butch Huskey, John Olerud, and Barry Lyons among others
Pitchers
Sid Fernandez- In 496 at-bats with the Mets, the heavily-built Fernandez had two triples. Explain to me how he finished with two more than Rickey Henderson had during his Mets tenure? Fernandez is best known in my inner circle for injuring himself while legging out a three-bagger in the midst of a no-hitter against the Giants in 1987. Somewhere a cry of anguish is heard on the island state of Hawaii: "Why didn't I stop at first base??????"
Alejandro Pena- No reliever in Mets history walked more slowly from bullpen to mound than Pena (rivaled in baseball only by Lee Smith), whose unimpressive 96-game run in 1990-91 with the Flushing 9 preceded an amazing couple of months with the 1991 Braves, whom he carried to Game 7 of the World Series. I forget who said it (Tim McCarver or Tommy Lasorda?) but someone said of Alejandro: "He even stands slow."
James Baldwin- When Baldwin came in to pitch for the Orioles against the Yankees the other day, YES Network broadcaster Michael Kay noted that nobody in baseball walked from the mound to the dugout more slowly than this Met for a Minute (15.00 ERA in two starts in 2004), whom I subsequently dubbed "The Patron Saint of Four-and-a-Half Hour Games."
Steve Trachsel- He is a must for this list since he is well documented as one of the slowest workers in baseball (along with Russ Ortiz). A Greg Maddux-Trachsel matchup is fascinating, more as a battle of wills between two contrasting moundsmen, than for the game itself. They met during Trachsel's Mets tenure on September 22, 2001, but Maddux, perhaps spooked by Trachsels' aura, lasted only 1/3 of an inning. The rematch came July 17, 2003 when Maddux pitched a complete game and won in a very manageable 2:26
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
About Last Night...
Alrighty, so what light can we shed on walk-off win #326 (since discovered to be at least #327)?
Mike Piazza's first walk-off walk with the Mets was the 15th walk-off walk in team history
It was the first walk-off walk since Jay Payton drew one against the Marlins on May 24, 2002.
It is not the first time Mike Piazza had significant involvement in a walk-off without swinging the bat. Piazza, you may recall, was the batter when Brad Clontz's wild pitch brought in the winning run in Game 162 of the 1999 season, setting up the Mets-Reds one-game playoff.
It was the sixth Mets walk-off to end with a 9-8 final score, the third of those to go extra innings and the second to go 11 innings (the other one of those, on August 27, 1997 against the Padres also ended on a walk-off walk (Carlos Baerga), following a ninth inning game-tying home run (Todd Hundley)
The last 9-8 Mets walk-off win was on July 10, 1999 against the Yankees. That's the game in which Matt Franco's two-run two-out single beat Mariano Rivera.
I've already written about two 9-8 walk-offs, one won on an error, and one involving Mike Piazza, and I've also written about the Mets king of walk-off walks, Ron Swoboda.
Now that you've had your minutiae fill, scroll down, read the post below, and come back Thursday when I speak with a former Met about his favorite walk-off moments.
Mike Piazza's first walk-off walk with the Mets was the 15th walk-off walk in team history
It was the first walk-off walk since Jay Payton drew one against the Marlins on May 24, 2002.
It is not the first time Mike Piazza had significant involvement in a walk-off without swinging the bat. Piazza, you may recall, was the batter when Brad Clontz's wild pitch brought in the winning run in Game 162 of the 1999 season, setting up the Mets-Reds one-game playoff.
It was the sixth Mets walk-off to end with a 9-8 final score, the third of those to go extra innings and the second to go 11 innings (the other one of those, on August 27, 1997 against the Padres also ended on a walk-off walk (Carlos Baerga), following a ninth inning game-tying home run (Todd Hundley)
The last 9-8 Mets walk-off win was on July 10, 1999 against the Yankees. That's the game in which Matt Franco's two-run two-out single beat Mariano Rivera.
I've already written about two 9-8 walk-offs, one won on an error, and one involving Mike Piazza, and I've also written about the Mets king of walk-off walks, Ron Swoboda.
Now that you've had your minutiae fill, scroll down, read the post below, and come back Thursday when I speak with a former Met about his favorite walk-off moments.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
You gotta "Boolieve"
It has been a regular complaint of New York Yankees fans that Alex Rodriguez doesn't get enough meaningful RBI to justify his financial compensation.
Carlos Beltran has gotten booed (in Saturday's case, for lack of hustle running out a popup, rightfully so) for his lack of production in the first three months of what will be a long Flushing tenure.
New York is a city of great expectations, and those who fail to fulfill them immediately(read Bobby Bonilla, Roberto Alomar and Kaz Matsui) get swallowed up by the waves of negativity. Those who can survive the initial barrage tend to do alright.
Beltran's situation reminds me a little bit of what it was like for one of his current teammates, Mike Piazza, after he was traded to the Mets in May, 1998.
In Piazza's first 27 games as a Met, he had hits in 22, and was batting .364. However, he only managed three home runs and 10 RBI and was not producing in big spots at the rate at which fans thought he should. The result of this was that any time Piazza made an out, he heard boos. Sometimes they were soft, like the ones that Beltran has been getting. Sometimes they were very loud.
On August 3, Piazza woke up with a .330 batting average, and Rob Parker's column in Newsday penned a column in support of the free agent to be. "One day Mets fans will wake up, and the abuse will stop" was his lead.
The next day, the Mets began a three-game series with the San Francisco Giants. New York had blown a 5-1 lead against the Dodgers (despite a Piazza home run) the day before, missing a chance to gain ground in the wild-card race. I was among those in the crowd of 32,000-plus and I remember a strong sense of frustration that night. It warmed over a bit after the Mets rallied from four runs down to take a 6-4 lead entering the ninth inning, but than it boiled over too a booing chorus when the Giants tied the score off John Franco.
The Mets loaded the bases with nobody out in the bottom of the ninth, with none other than Piazza coming up. Surely he would come through here, win the game, and revel in the cheers that would forever be his.
It didn't happen. Piazza took a mighty swing (if I remember right) and hit a weak ground ball. The Giants got a force play at the plate. An unhappy throng let their displeasure be known, in full force.
The good news for the Mets was that after Brian McRae also grounded out, Lenny Harris got the Mets a walk-off win, patiently walking on a 3-2 pitch from Jose Mesa. That didn't stick out in my mind though. The booing did.
Now Piazza could easily have wilted and succumbed to the jeering, but he didn't. After the series with San Francisco concluded, the Mets went on the road and Piazza went on a tear. He hit .378 with 13 home runs and 48 RBI in his last 47 games, keeping the Mets in the wild-card race until the team wasted away its hopes with a five-game losing streak in the final week.
After the season ended, there were a lot of questions as to whether Piazza would re-sign with the Mets, or pack his bags for a friendlier environment. Those were answered, surprisingly quickly, at the end of October, when Piazza signed a seven-year contract.
At the press conference announcing his signing, the boos were the subject of one query. Piazza handled it deftly. He understood the impatience of the New York fan and knew that with time, things would turn out alright.
"I might as well get booed by the best, If I'm going to get booed by anyone" he told the media.
Piazza's days as a super-productive hitter are over, but I'd still say he's handled his time in New York just fine overall, wouldn't you?
The Truly Metsane know...That since Piazza became a Met, no player on the team has more walk-off hits than he does (4).
Carlos Beltran has gotten booed (in Saturday's case, for lack of hustle running out a popup, rightfully so) for his lack of production in the first three months of what will be a long Flushing tenure.
New York is a city of great expectations, and those who fail to fulfill them immediately(read Bobby Bonilla, Roberto Alomar and Kaz Matsui) get swallowed up by the waves of negativity. Those who can survive the initial barrage tend to do alright.
Beltran's situation reminds me a little bit of what it was like for one of his current teammates, Mike Piazza, after he was traded to the Mets in May, 1998.
In Piazza's first 27 games as a Met, he had hits in 22, and was batting .364. However, he only managed three home runs and 10 RBI and was not producing in big spots at the rate at which fans thought he should. The result of this was that any time Piazza made an out, he heard boos. Sometimes they were soft, like the ones that Beltran has been getting. Sometimes they were very loud.
On August 3, Piazza woke up with a .330 batting average, and Rob Parker's column in Newsday penned a column in support of the free agent to be. "One day Mets fans will wake up, and the abuse will stop" was his lead.
The next day, the Mets began a three-game series with the San Francisco Giants. New York had blown a 5-1 lead against the Dodgers (despite a Piazza home run) the day before, missing a chance to gain ground in the wild-card race. I was among those in the crowd of 32,000-plus and I remember a strong sense of frustration that night. It warmed over a bit after the Mets rallied from four runs down to take a 6-4 lead entering the ninth inning, but than it boiled over too a booing chorus when the Giants tied the score off John Franco.
The Mets loaded the bases with nobody out in the bottom of the ninth, with none other than Piazza coming up. Surely he would come through here, win the game, and revel in the cheers that would forever be his.
It didn't happen. Piazza took a mighty swing (if I remember right) and hit a weak ground ball. The Giants got a force play at the plate. An unhappy throng let their displeasure be known, in full force.
The good news for the Mets was that after Brian McRae also grounded out, Lenny Harris got the Mets a walk-off win, patiently walking on a 3-2 pitch from Jose Mesa. That didn't stick out in my mind though. The booing did.
Now Piazza could easily have wilted and succumbed to the jeering, but he didn't. After the series with San Francisco concluded, the Mets went on the road and Piazza went on a tear. He hit .378 with 13 home runs and 48 RBI in his last 47 games, keeping the Mets in the wild-card race until the team wasted away its hopes with a five-game losing streak in the final week.
After the season ended, there were a lot of questions as to whether Piazza would re-sign with the Mets, or pack his bags for a friendlier environment. Those were answered, surprisingly quickly, at the end of October, when Piazza signed a seven-year contract.
At the press conference announcing his signing, the boos were the subject of one query. Piazza handled it deftly. He understood the impatience of the New York fan and knew that with time, things would turn out alright.
"I might as well get booed by the best, If I'm going to get booed by anyone" he told the media.
Piazza's days as a super-productive hitter are over, but I'd still say he's handled his time in New York just fine overall, wouldn't you?
The Truly Metsane know...That since Piazza became a Met, no player on the team has more walk-off hits than he does (4).
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Clairvoyance, Prognostication, and Walk-Offs
One of my cousins, a young, Brooklyn-based chap named Matthew Sunday, thinks that my choice of vocabulary during conversation is too complex. He's not going to like this essay on clairvoyance and prognostication. Perhaps you will.
Clairvoyance is a skill that millions of sports fans think they have, but only a select few do.That's one of the reasons that prognosticating for money is so popular, because so many have a clouded belief of expertise in a subject matter that is as unpredictable as any in the world.
I have experienced moments of clairvoyance and take pride in my ability to selectively prognosticate with great accuracy. For example, moments after the New York Rangers lost Game 6 of the 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, I told my friends Daniel Gordon and David Cooper "Game 7 will be won by a captain." Let the record reflect that Vancouver captain Trevor Linden scored two goals in a losing effort and Rangers captain Mark Messier was credited (admittedly incorrectly) with the game-winning goal (Besides the fact that it was really Brian Noonan's goal, in hockey, they give the game-winning goal, for some reason, to the player that scored the goal that gives his team one more than the opponent's goal total).
But our subject is baseball, and on the subject of clairvoyance and prognostication, we turn to the Mets. When I think of Mets prognostication, I think of a pair of managers. Jeff Torborg, in a moment of what some might call delusional clairvoyance once uttered the phrase: "New York fans are going to love Bill Pecota!" That was poor prognostication. In 2001, about a month before the season ended, Bobby Valentine was asked how many wins it would take to win the NL East. His answer was 88. That was a pretty good prognostication.
Walk-off clairvoyance is something with which I have familiarity. It was sometime after midnight, in late October, 1986, when an 11-year-old turned to his father's friends and said "Wouldn't it be funny if this guy throws a wild pitch or balks here?" In May, 1988, with two outs and nobody on with the Mets down a run to the Reds in the 10th, an adolescent interrupted his dad's phone call to let him know that "Strawberry's gonna come up..." as Keith Hernandez stood at the plate, in what appeared to be a lost cause of a game. He did, and the Mets won (we'll save the story of that game for another day). In September, 1990, a loud-mouth sitting behind a pair of Mets fans let them know that after Dave Magadan's failed bunt, that Strawberry was going to launch a walk-off shot ("accurately called" as a colleague of mine would say).
My favorite walk-off clairvoyant story deals with July 29, 2001, with the Mets staggering along at 48-57. This was at a time in which we had a Sunday ticket plan, and this was a game my father and I went to without the enthusiam that accompanied trips to Shea Stadium the previous three years. Turned out, we got to see one heck of a game between the Mets and Phillies.
The Mets had an early 2-0 lead, but Kevin Appier couldn't hold it, and the game was even after four innings. Both teams had chances to go back ahead, but the Phillies left a combined five men on base in the fifth and sixth, and the Mets had a runner thrown out at the plate in the fifth.
New York went ahead in the seventh on an RBI groundout by Mike Piazza in which Desi Relaford's takeout slide prevented a double play, but the Phillies snatched the advantage away in the top of the eighth when Scott Rolen hit a two-run homer off John Franco. The game went topsy-turvy in the bottom of the eighth, when with a man on, Tsuyoshi Shinjo put the Mets back in front, 5-4, with a two-run home run off Jose Santiago.
Armando Benitez tried for the save in the top of the ninth, but that immediately went awry when he walked the leadoff batter (if you ever read me referring to something as being "Benitezian," it means, "walked the leadoff man"), who subsequently advanced to third on a single and scored on a sacrifice fly.
Proof that clairvoyance is an inherited trait came from the person sitting next to me, who decided aloud that as the Mets were ambling back to the dugout that "We'll be going home after Piazza's at-bat."
Now, my father has good prognosticative skills (hence his success at poker), so I listened, but still took those words with a grain of salt. My facial expression showed that. This was 2001 and things like that weren't happening for the Mets that season (at least not yet). So when Relaford grounded out to start the inning, that left only one way for the moment of clairvoyance to be correct.
For dramatic purposes, I'll say here that the prognostication was repeated as Piazza stepped to the plate, but I don't remember whether it was or not. What I do remember was the tap on the knee, and the words "Let's go!" a millisecond after Piazza's swing. He launched Rheal Cormier's second pitch over the left-center field fence for a no-doubt, walk-off home run (Phillies announcer Harry Kalas had a good home run call too, muttering "Oh brother!" as the ball left the bat). Afterwards, we lamented how this game wasn't going to make much of a dent in the standings. The cool thing about it is that, if you're familiar with how that season concluded, it almost did.
Anyway, for the last four years, I've had to endure the question "Was that a call, or was that a call????" any time that game is brought up in our household. In fact, I have a feeling I'm going to see it again in an e-mail or instant message from a certain family member at some point this evening. I don't have to be clairvoyant to prognosticate that.
True Metsicators know...Mike Piazza's first four walk-off hits for the Mets have all been home runs.
Clairvoyance is a skill that millions of sports fans think they have, but only a select few do.That's one of the reasons that prognosticating for money is so popular, because so many have a clouded belief of expertise in a subject matter that is as unpredictable as any in the world.
I have experienced moments of clairvoyance and take pride in my ability to selectively prognosticate with great accuracy. For example, moments after the New York Rangers lost Game 6 of the 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, I told my friends Daniel Gordon and David Cooper "Game 7 will be won by a captain." Let the record reflect that Vancouver captain Trevor Linden scored two goals in a losing effort and Rangers captain Mark Messier was credited (admittedly incorrectly) with the game-winning goal (Besides the fact that it was really Brian Noonan's goal, in hockey, they give the game-winning goal, for some reason, to the player that scored the goal that gives his team one more than the opponent's goal total).
But our subject is baseball, and on the subject of clairvoyance and prognostication, we turn to the Mets. When I think of Mets prognostication, I think of a pair of managers. Jeff Torborg, in a moment of what some might call delusional clairvoyance once uttered the phrase: "New York fans are going to love Bill Pecota!" That was poor prognostication. In 2001, about a month before the season ended, Bobby Valentine was asked how many wins it would take to win the NL East. His answer was 88. That was a pretty good prognostication.
Walk-off clairvoyance is something with which I have familiarity. It was sometime after midnight, in late October, 1986, when an 11-year-old turned to his father's friends and said "Wouldn't it be funny if this guy throws a wild pitch or balks here?" In May, 1988, with two outs and nobody on with the Mets down a run to the Reds in the 10th, an adolescent interrupted his dad's phone call to let him know that "Strawberry's gonna come up..." as Keith Hernandez stood at the plate, in what appeared to be a lost cause of a game. He did, and the Mets won (we'll save the story of that game for another day). In September, 1990, a loud-mouth sitting behind a pair of Mets fans let them know that after Dave Magadan's failed bunt, that Strawberry was going to launch a walk-off shot ("accurately called" as a colleague of mine would say).
My favorite walk-off clairvoyant story deals with July 29, 2001, with the Mets staggering along at 48-57. This was at a time in which we had a Sunday ticket plan, and this was a game my father and I went to without the enthusiam that accompanied trips to Shea Stadium the previous three years. Turned out, we got to see one heck of a game between the Mets and Phillies.
The Mets had an early 2-0 lead, but Kevin Appier couldn't hold it, and the game was even after four innings. Both teams had chances to go back ahead, but the Phillies left a combined five men on base in the fifth and sixth, and the Mets had a runner thrown out at the plate in the fifth.
New York went ahead in the seventh on an RBI groundout by Mike Piazza in which Desi Relaford's takeout slide prevented a double play, but the Phillies snatched the advantage away in the top of the eighth when Scott Rolen hit a two-run homer off John Franco. The game went topsy-turvy in the bottom of the eighth, when with a man on, Tsuyoshi Shinjo put the Mets back in front, 5-4, with a two-run home run off Jose Santiago.
Armando Benitez tried for the save in the top of the ninth, but that immediately went awry when he walked the leadoff batter (if you ever read me referring to something as being "Benitezian," it means, "walked the leadoff man"), who subsequently advanced to third on a single and scored on a sacrifice fly.
Proof that clairvoyance is an inherited trait came from the person sitting next to me, who decided aloud that as the Mets were ambling back to the dugout that "We'll be going home after Piazza's at-bat."
Now, my father has good prognosticative skills (hence his success at poker), so I listened, but still took those words with a grain of salt. My facial expression showed that. This was 2001 and things like that weren't happening for the Mets that season (at least not yet). So when Relaford grounded out to start the inning, that left only one way for the moment of clairvoyance to be correct.
For dramatic purposes, I'll say here that the prognostication was repeated as Piazza stepped to the plate, but I don't remember whether it was or not. What I do remember was the tap on the knee, and the words "Let's go!" a millisecond after Piazza's swing. He launched Rheal Cormier's second pitch over the left-center field fence for a no-doubt, walk-off home run (Phillies announcer Harry Kalas had a good home run call too, muttering "Oh brother!" as the ball left the bat). Afterwards, we lamented how this game wasn't going to make much of a dent in the standings. The cool thing about it is that, if you're familiar with how that season concluded, it almost did.
Anyway, for the last four years, I've had to endure the question "Was that a call, or was that a call????" any time that game is brought up in our household. In fact, I have a feeling I'm going to see it again in an e-mail or instant message from a certain family member at some point this evening. I don't have to be clairvoyant to prognosticate that.
True Metsicators know...Mike Piazza's first four walk-off hits for the Mets have all been home runs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
