RMJ 89 May 14

WEDNESDAY, MAY 14 ● New York, vs Mets

Most folks look forward to the 15th of the month because it is payday; I’m looking forward to it because it is our first off-day in three weeks.

With all the close games, this stretch of schedule has been demanding. Our play has been professional, but lackluster.

Tonight we face Rick Reed, a journeyman pitcher who has become an early-season sensation, posting a 1.50 ERA to date.

I looked at the USA Today National League summary statistics for the first time in a month, and I was surprised to see that many teams have had hitting problems. In fact, our weak attack is in the upper half of the league. It seems the pitchers are mounting a comeback in our league, while they continue to serve as cannon fodder in the junior circuit.

 

I blame myself for our hitting woes. When I was in the groove, putting my right stocking on before the left, we were hitting better — scoring just enough runs to win the majority of our games. It’s not Tom McCraw’s fault that I absentmindedly put my left sock on first one day on the last homestand. He has his own superstitions to attend to, and he can’t be held accountable for mine.

I know I will find the right combination one of these days, and we will have a winning streak.

One night in Miami, I thought I was coming up with something, and then it rained on our parade. I had been dipping a combination of mints and herbs contained in a little gauze packet. It fits neatly between your gums and lower lip and gives your mouth a fresh feel.  If you chew a little gum while you’re dipping, your whole mouth becomes minty, but the trouble is that you don’t score any runs.

One inning, I decided to have some sunflower seeds. Boom! We scored two runs. I went back to the dip when they came up. Presto! Another zero on the board.

Back to the seeds: another run. This is great, I thought. We’ll slaughter everyone now.

But then the rain came, and well, you know the rest.

 

Tonight, I was consumed by a hungry media from the time I set foot in the locker room. I had to go into the outfield during batting practice to get some peace and quiet.

When I got back to my office, I had a request for an interview with This Week in Baseball.  When I got back from that, Dave told me that Derek Bell could not play because of a bruised calf muscle. We adjusted our lineup and sent the new one over to the Mets, with James Mouton playing center and hitting second in Derek’s place. Then Gerry came in, and we talked until almost game time; I reached the dugout just in time for The National Anthem. Then I settled in for the game. 

The Perfessor told me that D.K. had thrown well in warmups. He usually pitches well against the Mets; they were the victims when he pitched his no-hitter in 1993. 

I really thought we would get to Reed. We had hit him pretty well in the Dome, and I thought our hitters would do better the second time around.

Silly me.

 

One thing did happen about the third inning that turned the game in our favor. With all the pregame hubbub, I had forgotten to change my navy blue practice jersey for the gray game shirt. No one noticed, because I was wearing a jacket. The heaters were on in the dugout, and I was a little warm, so I unbuttoned the jacket. 

“You better button that back up if you have to go on the field,” Bill said.

At first, his comment didn’t register. Then I realized that I had inadvertently skewed the odds in our favor, just as I had jinxed us with my sock routine. You see, the one game we won in Atlanta was the game when I wore my practice jersey under my jacket, and I had to run up and change between innings.

This time, I ran up in the middle of the fourth, and when I got back, Kile had an 0-2 advantage over Bernard Gilkey. For the first three innings, he had been falling behind most of the hitters, so I took the count as a good omen. I was right. Darryl settled down and pitched eight scoreless innings, matching Reed zero-for-zero.

In the meantime, I learned that Pat Listach had broken his finger the night before, trying to catch a chopper that came into our dugout. I didn’t know quite how to take this news. On one hand, I felt bad for Pat, because he’s having a tough-enough time without this. On the other, it makes it easier for me to give Ricky Gutierrez a good shot at short.

As long as the injury bug doesn’t bite the big boys, we should be all right. But the Bell injury is a little scary, because the last time he fouled a ball off his leg, there was a lot of internal bleeding and he tried to play, pulling a muscle that eventually required surgery. 

Like Pat, Derek has been in a slump. Unlike Pat, Derek drove in 113 runs last year. It would be difficult to lose him for a long period of time — especially now that he is beginning to hit.

On top of all that, Sean Berry told me he was feeling flulike symptoms. And he’s just beginning to hit.

 

The one thing that did go our way ultimately won the game.

About ten days ago, I considered resting Biggio against a pitcher who was tough on him. He resisted, saying he would rather take a day off when there was a break in the schedule, so he could get two days in a row.

When tonight’s lineup was posted, without him on it, he didn’t say a word. When Bell was scratched, he told me he could play, and I told him he would be my secret weapon on the bench.

“You might play this whole game and come up five times with nobody on base. But tonight, I’m going to save you until the bases are loaded,” I said.

Wouldn’t you know it, we loaded the bases in the ninth on a single by Spiers, who was playing second for Biggio; a double by Mouton, playing for Bell; and a walk to Gonzalez. 

Berry was due, but he was looking a little pekid. I looked at Biggio’s record against the new pitcher, Greg McMichael, and he was 1-for-6. Berry, however, was 0-for-6. Bidge could get down the line quicker on a double-play grounder, and he was far more likely to draw a walk.

When I called his number, he was a little surprised; he shouldn’t have been. After all, the bases were loaded.

McMichael got behind 2-0 and then threw a couple of changeups to even the count. The next pitch was another change, and Bidge got his body out in front, but he kept his hands back. He hit the ball squarely, and we knew it was a sacrifice fly at the very least. As Gilkey went back we started thinking grand slam.

But things aren’t coming that easily for us these days. Gilkey leapt into the air and caught the ball against the fence.

I was torn between letting Kile try to finish the game and bringing Wagner in to close. I asked Vern, and he favored Wagner. I really had no preference, but Wagner needed work.

With the off-day tomorrow, I finally decided that we were at least as likely to protect our scant lead with Billy as Darryl. I took Vern’s advice, and Billy rewarded us with one of his typical innings: two strikeouts and one weak fly ball.

 

Two wins in six games on the trip is nothing to brag about, but considering the alternative, I felt comfortable, especially with the off-day ahead and four games with the Phillies after that.

If we can win three of four from the Phils, we can break even for the trip. That goal seems attainable, but the best we could do is split two games with the Phils in the Dome, so I’m certainly not overconfident.

 

One thing I noticed tonight was that I wasn’t quite as nervous in the ninth. Perhaps it was my faith in Wagner. But I’m more inclined to think it is because I am getting accustomed to one-run games. If this is the case, it could be good for the team. They have to be feeling the same way, and I hope this means we are becoming battle-hardened and we will play with grace under pressure in the months ahead.

 

It is 2:45 a.m. as I finish this day’s notes. Part of the off-day is already spent.