I don’t even care about Kyle Kendrick anymore. I’m no baseball scientist whose going to form an opinion based on careful review of statistics and performance. No, my opinions are mainly formed around what I am seeing right in front of me, making Kyle Kendrick virtually impossible to watch.
Putting a thin layer of moisture on everything probably wasn’t going to help.
But it was through just such a New York soaking that Kendrick up-and-downed the Mets, allowing one run and six hits through six and two thirds. He even notched four more K’s into his bed post tonight.
On the other side of the television, my panicked gasps and alcoholism reduced slowly as KK produce a growing stack of outs, though both were ready to skyrocket at a misplaced fastball’s notice. But it never came, and by the time Chad Durbin took over in the sixth, I was practically sober.
Phillies 3, Mets 1
“He did a good job.” –Charlie Manuel
No “… they just hit the ball where we weren’t,” or some other excuse dripping with ambiguity over how Kendrick got abused by normally dormant Mets hitting? He really just did… “did good”?
A recurring theme of this series has been the disinterest everybody seems to have in scoring. Combined, the Phils and Mets left 16 baseball players on the paths tonight, the Mets going a particularly shit stained 0-for-5 with RISP. And, when you consider that the Phillies couldn’t conjure up a single run for the first four visits to Citi Field this year, its like seeing the face of god that we even put numbers on the scoreboard.
Jose Reyes did a little four-bag thing for the Mets to scare up their only run, while the Phillies pieced together their minimal offensive excursions with the same thing that has allowed them to sneak through the doggie door of victory for the last 42 games: small ball.
“Small ball,” for you less-than-baseball-enthusiasts who were accidentally steered to this site after a misguided Google search of the word “balls,” means that through an amalgamation of singles, walks, steals, and bunts to push and lead runs across the plate, rather than flush them all in with a dinger or six. It is a hard fought battle, and in the face of whatever it was that had the Phillies getting shut out at Citi Field all year, it was even hard fought-ier.
Raul Ibanez, it should be noted, is in the part of his streakiness that is the part when he quite suddenly becomes unable to swing at a baseball and hit it with a bat. It is difficult to watch. But not so difficult as watching Greg Dobbs walk toward the batter’s box, a misguided look of intent on his face, quickly replaced by a lip-chewing grimace of regret as he walks back to his seat on the bench (Dobbs went 0-for-3, and was replaced by Mike Sweeney late in the game, who immediately got a base hit).
The bullpen, also strangely, decided it would not be the problem either, and Durbin, Ryan Madson, and Brad Lidge threw 100% shut out baseball to end the game.
Had the Kyle Kendrick start gone the way of some specifically disturbing Kendrick starts of the recent past, there were some sweet, sweet news-nuggets being passed around to get the stagnant stench of a vicious Kendricking out of your mouth. Happily, this was an unneeded bonus.
But that doesn’t mean that Chase Utey returning Tuesday isn’t a reason to scream nonsense words at strangers all day tomorrow. His first rehab start for the Threshers was an 0-for-3 night, but Chase is probably just so excited to be playing ball again that he rescued a litter of kittens on his way to the stadium.
And how nice it is to not be hypothetically welcoming Chase back into a horrid mess. Instead, he will find us tied for the NL Wildcard, two games behind the Braves, and nowhere near the catastrophe expected.
Even if Kyle Kendrick’s pitching. Apparently.