Tyrone Taylor, who got the game-winning hit in the ninth for the Mets in the season’s first doubleheader to end an 0-5 start that seemed to doom the club already (only three teams had ever started off 0-5 and made the postseason), doubles on the 11th pitch from Spencer “Christy Mathewson” Schwellenbach. The manager comes out, the pitcher’s gone, and the Mets are on. Francisco Alvarez: double. 3-1. Starling Marte bats for Harrison Bader. Single to left. Alvarez has to hold at third. Francisco Lindor: RBI single. 3-2. The Braves bring in their closer with none out in the eighth. Raisel Iglesias v. Jose Iglesias. Churches. The infielder is the embodiment of the comeback spirit. He wasn’t even on the team when they were 11 games under .500 in May. Now batting almost .340, a 20-game hitting streak, but down in the count, 0-2. He rockets a ball down the right-field line. Fair! 3-3. “Oh my God,” I scream, not even ironically. First and third. Mark Vientos is up. Somehow the Mets sent him to the minors after he hit a game-winning home run in April. He has been a stud since June, but he’s looking a little tired lately, strikeout-prone. “Popped up,” Gary Cohen says. But it keeps carrying. Michael Harris III, who earlier had stuck out his tongue as he chased Pete Alonso’s fly ball, makes the catch in mid center. His throw is off and Lindor dives home, stiff back and all. Mets 4, Braves 3. Iglesias steals second easily. Brandon Nimmo. Gone! I am jumping around so much as he rounds the bases that I miss Nimmo sticking his tongue out at Harris, who also mocked the hand gestures the Mets make after each hit. Mets 6, Braves 3. The Mets bat around before the top of the eighth finally ends.
I have to go to the mailbox to walk off this energy. This is Atlanta. Destroyer of worlds built up between innings in my mind.
It falls apart. Completely. Edwin Diaz is as bad as Atlanta’s closer was in the eighth. It doesn’t help that Diaz fails to cover first base on a ball hit by the man the Mets traded to get him (from Seattle): Jarred Kelenic. The Mets won that trade, but the Braves take the lead when Ozzie Albies clears the bases with a double—with 5 RBI in the game he looks pretty good for a switch-hitter unable to bat left due to an injury.
Speaking of players looking good playing through injury, Lindor bats with Starling Marte on first in the ninth. A groundball could end the game. But he hits a high flyball. It keeps carrying and carrying. Harris climbs on the wall. No way.
“It’s outta here! Lin-sanity again!! Oh, Wow!!!” 8-7, Mets.
So we go to the bottom of the ninth. When I see Edwin Diaz back on the mound, I try not to see Armando Benitez. I try not to think about John Franco. Somehow I don’t think of Kenny Rogers. But that 1999 NLCS Game 6 in Atlanta is still too vivid.
Matt Olson pops up the first pitch. OK. Eli White, a defensive replacement back when the Braves looked to have this wrapped up two whole innings ago, is up. He gets on base for the second time. He steals second. Ramón Laureano, three hits in the game, strikes out. But here comes Travis d’Arnaud. He was the Mets catcher last time the Mets went to the World Series in 2015. I picture him helpless at Citi Field as Lucas Duda’s throw sails past as Game 5 falls apart after a questionable decision to leave a pitcher in the game. d’Arnaud had a dink single in the eighth that chased Phil Maton and brought in Diaz—30 something pitches ago. d’Arnaud is the kind of guy that would make this game an ever-loving nightmare. Groundball to Lindor. Throw to first…
