My laptop’s out of juice and I don’t have wifi even if I plugged the machine in, so I’m a bit handcuffed here. Not to mention I’m about to head out and I have very little time. That said, I’ll share just a few quick thoughts on Game 1.
-BABIP is a cold, fickle mistress
The Cubs hit balls 106, 103, and 96 mph and all ended as outs. The former almost took Matt Harvey’s head off and the latter actually hit him in the back before dropping harmlessly at his feet. Gotta think the luck evens out.
-Mggy set up behind plate
The Mets’ 4th run, which ended up being superfluous — other than provided a psychological edge — scored on a sac fly that saw Kyle Schwarber make a near-perfect throw home. However, Miguel Montero, who entered the game in place of David Ross, was set up behind the plate to receive the throw. As such, he was unable to apply the tag on a throw that appeared to beat the runner.
I can only assume the plate-blocking rules were in his head, but Miggy easily had time to step up in front of the plate, thus making it a shorter throw and affording a shot at a swipe tag. Oh well.
-War Bane Gotham’s reckoning
Changed up the name in honor of what Schwarber did to the Mets’ Dark Knight. I’m thinking Scott Boras was upset, as the plan was for Harvey to groove one to Kris Bryant.
-People are interesting
I don’t like watching games with strangers, but I didn’t have a choice Saturday. One drunken fool slapped me on the back and greeted me: “Hey, Bartman! Where’s the goat?!” He then proceeded to chant “Go Cubs” and harangue the not-baseball-history-savvy Canadian couple across from me. The guy wasn’t being mean, just drunk and dumb.
The Canadian guy was actually a UK expat, so I got to take some time to explain the game to him. I say “got to” because it was actually pretty fun and sharing this game with others is something I take very seriously. There was also a group of vacationers who were all originally from Middletown, OH, Schwarber’s hometown. They made up for the idiot.
-Anger for the first time
At one point, I hit the bar table hard enough to trigger the safety shutdown of my laptop. Time to go, sorry for the brevity. I only hope it’s the soul of wit.