Down two games to one, it was gut check time for the Mets in Game 4.  The boys rose to the occasion, and then some. 

 

It took me three games to get back into my Mets-watching rhythm.  Game one found me in San Francisco at a business conference.  I was able to watch the first hour of the game between the time when the  PowerPoint presentations on Voice over IP ended and the cocktail meet-and-greet began.  I left the boys in a scoreless tie and was very happy to see on my BlackBerry that Glavine and Beltran provided just enough of what we needed to win our 8th game in a row.

 

For game two, I was planted in front of a TV in my hotel room in SF.  What a nightmare ending….I thought we had that one in the bag,

 

When Jeff Supan released the first pitch for game three, I was in the last place I ever thought I would be to catch the game, 10 rows behind the Cardinal dugout at Busch Stadium.   While I didn’t enjoy the fact that Supan made us his bitch, both on the mound and with his bat, it was an amazing experience rooting for the Mets from amidst a sea of Red.  The new Busch is a beautiful stadium and it wasn’t as bad being the enemy on enemy turf as I thought it might be.  Even my friend Will decked out in his Rick Reed authentic Jersey only got a minimal amount of crap from the surrounding throng.  I expected the harranging to be far worse.

 

Yesterday, we came into the game in a MUST win situation.  An entirely unfamiliar position and one I that I don't like at all.  Facing a possible 3-1 deficit with an unproven Ollie Perez on the hill and a very confident St. Louis squad, it was put up or shut up time for the Mets.   WIth our backs nearing the wall, we did what we have done every time we’ve faced adversity this year.  We stepped up played like champs. 

 

The Mets broke a 14+ inning scoreless schneid with homers in the third.  After an error by Belliard in the 5th and a bloop single “with eyes” found a place to drop in, it was clear that whatever “invincibility potion” St. Louis had chugged in game two had worn off.  They were no longer bulletproof.  Delgado lowered the boom with a three-run blast to the opposite field and as The Great Bob Murphy would say, “there was nooooo looking back”.

 

The sixth inning though was a real thing of beauty.  Met offensive baseball at its best.  As Josh Hancock, took the hill in the 6th down by 3, and faced teh top of the menacing Mets order, I asked myself, “Is Josh Hancock up to the seemingly hideous task that has been asked of him?   It kind of didn’t seem fair.  A moment later I had my answer:

 

·          Reyes Singled

·          LoDuca singled on a picture-perfect hit and run, sending Reyes to third

·          Beltran walked to load the bases

 

Bases Loaded, Josh Hancock, and nobody out.  Nice position to find your self in.  But don’t worry, you only have to face Carlos Delgado, the hottest hitter in the Mets lineup. See ya, wouldn't want to be ya.

 

·          Double, 2 RBIs for Delgado…..who else wants a piece of us…you want a little?  Mets up 7-3.  Oliver Perez exhales loudly on the bench.  Many hi fives are shared and victory dances performed.

·          David Wright walks.  Base loaded again…still nobody out.  How’s it going Josh? 

 

 

Tyler Johnson is given the unenviable task of standing in the path of an onrushing freight train.  The bases are still full of Mets, the game is slipping away and with nobdy out there is no place on deck to put veteran Shawn Green.  Thanks Mr. LaRussa. 

·         Tyler Johnson is promptly greeted with an RBI single by Green.  Mets 8, Cardinals 3.  Bases STILL loaded.  STILL nobody out.

·          The Mustache, who has been searching for his stroke since the post season began lowers the death blow on the utterly overmatched Tyler Johnson.  Bench clearing double and it suddenly the Mets are up by 8.   For those keeping score at home that’s 6 runs, 5 hits, no errors and one man left on base and after 5 and a half innings, it Mets 11, St. Louis 3. We’ll be right back after this word from Rhinegold beer, Its refreshing not sweet, it’s the extra-dry treat, won’t you try extra dry Rhinegold beer?              

 

So, what were the takeaways from the good old fashioned ass kicking the Mets doled out?  There were a couple:

 

A)      The Series may be even on paper, but the momentum, the mojo is definitely back on our side.

B)       Oliver Perez was not perfect but he did what was asked of him in a very pressure-filled arena.  He gave us a quality start and took the game deep enough to minimize the strain on the bullpen.  He didn’t implode under pressure like this one guy I saw fall apart the night before.

C)       We did what we had to do when we had to do it.  The Mets never shrank from a challenge during the season and they didn’t lay down here.  In a series in which they left themselves no room for error they won the game and did it convincingly.

 

The Biggest takeaway came to me in the sixth in the form of an epiphany.  As Valentine struck his base-clearing double, and I pounded my fist in the air with delight, the vision struck me like a lightning bolt.  After a surreal cross-country viewing regimen, after a hard-fought game one, a botched-close in game two and a beat down in game three, I was back in my living room and the Mets were doing what they had done all year long...they were dishing out some hurt to an overmatched opponent.  Order had been restored and things were again right in my universe.  The team I fell in love with in April was back.