Mets Stumble In Opener: Welcome To 2014

Well, that escalated quickly.

The Mets’ Opening Day started harmlessly enough; it snowed in Long Island, parts of New Jersey and Westchester. In some quarters, this was considered a terrific omen: it also snowed on arguably the most memorable lid-lifter of all. No matter the weather, it was a day for your intrepid columnist to make a schlep out to Queens for the earliest date he ever attended an official ballgame and his first Opening Day since 1992. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks. It meant warm weather, sunshine and summer. It meant a tailgate gathering with similar minded Met friends and scribblers. What he got was clouds, cold and bone-rattling wind. The game promised to be not much better, with news that new papa Daniel Murphy was back in Florida with his delivering wife and that Chris Young would not play, as he was nursing a – frankly, quite troubling – quad strain. But, no matter the weather, it was Opening Day.

The tailgate was stationed right in front of the tents housing the latest edition of Cirque du Soleil. The urge to equate a circus tent with the current state of Mets was stifled – some things are just too easy. Shortly after arrival a tremendous wind gust lifted up our tent and upended our food table, creating a mini-swamp of coleslaw and tortilla chips. The urge to mark this as a portent was stifled, though one of our cohort suggested it was Tug McGraw’s breath from the great beyond, responding to any and all unbelievers. Pre-game parking lot festivities concluded by high noon, it was time to head inside for the official pomp. There were the introductions and the lining up along the foul lines. The sun came out. A very nice video tribute was run on the scoreboard to honor the late Ralph Kiner. It appeared his family was appreciative. A huge flag was displayed over the entire outfield as a terrific Anthem was sung by a respectful a capella group. Finally, it was game time. The PA announcer intoned “Ladies and gentlemen, your 2014! NEW! YORK! METS!” And the Mets ran out and took their positions, but for one curious absence. A number of clever fans started yelling “Who’s on first?” because Ike Davis did not leave the dugout with his mates. Manager Terry Collins came out to chat with the home plate umpire for a bit, but Davis was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, he did come out, of course, and what we all thought in the stands was later confirmed. The urge to make a facile, slightly gross joke was stifled – some things are just too easy.

In any case, starter Dillon Gee got off well, surrendering a bare single in the first inning. It was, in fact, Dillon Gee’s day. He seemed to pick up right where he left off last year, at one point retiring 15 consecutive Nationals. The offense propped him up well, too, with a surprise three-run homer by Chris Young’s replacement, Andrew Brown and a clutch sacrifice fly by Eric Young, Jr. shortly after DC had climbed within one. It was a happy, giddy band of Mets fans in the rollicking stands, despite the fact that it never really got warm all game. We were digging the fact that golden-boy Stephen Strasburg was getting a decent cuffing by the meek Mets. Once we made sure he was OK, we made great sport of the other golden-boy – Bryce Harper – getting kicked in the head at second base by Young, Jr., getting his bell rung in the process.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Gee lost his mojo in the seventh, tagged for a base hit, a walk and a double, again letting the Nats get within one with two outs. With men on second and third, Carlos Torres came on and gave up a four-pitch walk to pinch-hitter Nate McLouth. Jumping quickly, Collins pulled Torres and brought on lefty Scott Rice – I would have gone with John Lannan, myself, but more on that later – who immediately walked Denard Span on four pitches, tying the game. Jose Valverde did a great job in dousing any further threat, but the door had already swung open. You could feel Citi Field seethe. And yet…

Juan Lagares cracked a long home run on an oh-two pitch in the bottom of the eighth. The party in the stands was back on, except for that nagging feeling that we’d still have to see that damn bullpen – among the Mets’ online community, it’s been known as the “LOLpen” for a number of years now – hold ‘em off for the Mets’ customary Opening Day win. We all knew… Bobby Parnell came on and gave up a base hit to Ian Desmond leading off. Here it comes… He then induced Adam LaRoche to pop out to third, struck out Anthony Rendon and got to a two-two count on pinch-hitter Danny Espinosa. One strike away — where had we heard that before? Maybe this would turn out OK after all… But no. Espinosa worked out the walk and Span followed with double to left, retying the game. The Citi got quiet and cold again. This time, there was no recovery.

Jeurys Familia wasn’t up to the task and gave up the go-ahead run in the tenth in too-short order. Citi was so silent, you could hear the Nats’ dugout woofing and slapping fives. Lannan was brought in three innings too late and promptly gave up a walk and a three-run homer. David Wright’s heroics in the bottom of the tenth – a cosmetic two-run shot – weren’t enough to lift anyone’s spirits and when Curtis Granderson struck out to end it, no one was very much surprised, upset or irate. The pervading sense was numbness: same ol’ Mets. Toward that point, we’ve come to find out today that Bobby Parnell has the dreaded muscle tear in his elbow and will more than likely require surgery. The beat goes on.

The only saving grace was that the game was played on March 31, rather than April 1. The urge to make an April Fool’s Day joke will be stifled – some things are just too easy.

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