NYM 9, KC 3

In the early going, when a sharply struck ball sailed over Cespedes a...gain, I wailed, "STOP METSING!"

They did! Mostly. But it was really looking like the beltway into Sweepville for that first hour, and while I'm not necessarily about "momentum" or "been there before" as determining factors -- if the Royals win, as they probably will, it won't be because they're juniors and the Mets are frosh; it'll be because they have a hitting attack that scoffs at 98+ -- those things do exist.

Which brings us to that sailer up and in to Escobar to start the game, welllllll I surely don't condone a guy with Thunderpants's velocity throwing at a guy's head or anywhere else on his person on purpose because it's dangerous BUT: Mets fans have been listening to everyone from the Baseball Tonight podcast crew to Kevin Burkhardt to Ned Yost be head-pat condescending about how little realistic chance the Mets had against the Gold-Glove defense and the Good-Oliver Cueto and the Classic experience of the Royals, but hey, you'll be back next year, pat-pat-pat, the grown-ups are talking, [shooing motion]. What's worse, the Mets were looking like they'd started to believe it. We're not ready. We don't belong here.

When that ball whistled past Escobar's ear all "hey: don't talk about us like we're not here" it told me that at least two people, Thor and Trav, wouldn't settle for that. And it worked, and here's how I know: Moustakas wanted to fight some dudes.

And he's not wrong, and again, I don't want anyone to get hurt. But it kinda felt, prior to that, like an Escobar plunking would have gotten...an eye-roll. Or, like, Chris Young calmly keep-awaying the eye-black out of reach while Wilmer Flores jumped around him trying to get it. You know: little-brother mad.

Moustakas was grown-man, took-my-money mad. Good. Means he's taking us seriously, or should. Juan Uribe got a hit with a broken chest. We might not be as good as y'all, but we're not fucking around.

ANYWAY, POINTS after the jump.




Cain 1
Gordon 1
Hoz 0
Morales 0
That Guy Piiiiiissed 0

Ventura 4.33

Cespedes 2
Conforto 2
Doodles -1
Grando 6 (felt like more; left a bunch on)
Murphy 0 (and we're probably lucky it's that "high")
Wright 10 (!)

Syndergaard, cancelling out his LOB with a TB: 10

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Bunting 163
Powell 157.67
Currie 150.67

Brady, Yuhan 2 143.01

Yuhan 1 139.33
Drake 138.67
Cameron 2 133.68
Stempel 133.01

MacEachern, Winklepleck, Tormey 1, Williams, Green: 110s

Reid: 100s

Tormey 2, Simone: 90s

Cameron 1: 80s

Bingham: 70s

Tonight's match-up will not move the needle a whole lot, necessarily, unless the initial starters whom nobody has picked -- Matz and Young -- melt down and necessitate the use of other starters out of the pen, which is not something Collins at least seems inclined to do in a Game 4. Here's hoping all the hitter picks wear their most convincing Bonds costumes; see you soon and good luck!