After losing three of four to the godforsaken Houston Astros last week, our playoff hopes were most assuredly shot, and what once seemed inevitable now could only happen on the slimmest margins of chance. After that series, the Phillies were like Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs the minute after he got shot in the stomach. The hope we felt was yanked right out from under us, leaving the team floundering once again as, all of a sudden, the teams who were choking in the Wild Card race had righted their respective ships while ours had more or less capsized.
Except the Pirates. But whatever.
Which brings us to the aftermath. Last night’s game…wow, where to even begin with last night’s game? If the Astros series was Mr. Orange getting shot, then this Mets series was Mr. Orange getting up and pumping 12 shots into Mr. Blonde before he could set Nash on fire. Eight runs in the first inning, all off walks and bloop singles? A Ryan Howard grand slam in the ninth? Tyler Cloyd pitched eight innings of one-run ball and only gave up three hits? I never understood how the Mets are so able to make us look like fools in April and May, only to end up showing their true colors of suck when it counts.
I’m gonna be honest here now. The playoff run…it’s pretty much over. Barring a literally historic collapse, there’s pretty much zero chance they’ll make it. That’s why last night’s game felt so good to see. If we’re going down, might as well do it with a bang as opposed to slowly limping out of contention with no fight left.
Fuck the Mets.