GOOD SPORTS

There are countless areas where sports and politics intersect. As I watched my hometown Mets 4 to 2 comeback victory in a do or die Game 3 against the Milwaukee Brewers last night, and its aftermath, I was reminded that it is perfectly okay to have partisanship so long as it always accompanied by a healthy dose of sportsmanship.

The very talented and favored team from Milwaukee had taken a seemingly insurmountable 2 to 0 lead in the 7th inning on home runs by Jake Bauers and Sal Frelick. The Mets offense had been missing for most of the series and they had not scored a run since the 2nd inning of Game 2, 15 consecutive scoreless innings. At game’s end, they found themselves facing one of the best closers in the game, Devin Williams, who had so easily dispatched them in the prior Game 2 loss.

The Mets rode a 9th inning one-out walk to Francisco Lindor, a single to right by Brandon Nimmo and an opposite field homer by slumping Pete Alonso to victory.

Moments after Alonso squeezed Lindor’s double play peg for the final out, absolute joy erupted on the field and for Mets fans everywhere. The OMG crew had lived to play another day, a best 3 of 5 series beginning tomorrow against the Phillies to be specific. There were photo ops and champagne and wonderful interviews with victorious stars and a rather eloquent Mets manager in Carlos Mendoza.

The capacity crowd exited with heads shaking what so suddenly had taken on a funereal atmosphere.

I was overjoyed that this Mets team, written off in May after a dismal start, would be moving on.

But what I’m thinking about the day after is what Devin Williams said in his postgame interview.

“We worked all year to get to this point. They got me a two-run lead there in the ninth. That’s how we draw it up. And I couldn’t come through for the boys. No one feels worse than I do. It could have been better, but it wasn’t the worst pitch I’ve ever thrown. I wanted to go away with it, and I got it there, but it was a good piece of hitting. I’m not going to make any excuses. I didn’t get the job done when I needed to. They executed well, and I didn’t.”

Suffice it to say, I’m now a fan. Of Devin Williams.

And then there’s Pat Murphy, the 65-year-old Brewers manager who I had never heard of until this week but is a heavy favorite to win National League Manager of the Year. Here’s part of his post-game interview.

“It’s baseball, you got three players that are upper echelon players, Lindor, Nimmo and Alonso, and they did what they do…I want to credit the Mets, that’s what that inning was about, that inning was about the Mets, they were great, those three players are All-Stars, they have long-term contracts for a reason, they’re great players and they’ve been through a hell of a ride here having to play the extra games, all the credit goes to them, goes to the Mets…It was a great script for us. You know Devin’s been as good a closer as there is in baseball for two and a half years that he’s played, you know he was injured most of this year, he’s been unbelievable and I’d give him the ball again tomorrow in the same situation and any other game I’m involved with if we have a lead, I’d give Devin the ball. So again, that’s three really good players. Lindor’s one of the best in the game. Nimmo’s there for a reason, he’s their best hitter right now. And Alonso while maybe quiet this series, that’s a huge swing. Yeah, that’s the way it is.”’

Suffice it to say, I’m now a fan. Of Pat Murphy.

So, in the interest of a future of slightly less partisanship and a whole lot more sportsmanship, I’ve reimagined that postgame manager’s press conference with a certain former manager in mind.

“I’m not about to concede anything. We’ve just filed a formal protest and that won’t be the end of it. My people are investigating while we speak. If I have to, I’ll take this all the way to the Supreme Court. The fix is in, the whole thing is rigged. They had 2 hits, by the same guy, they were stealing signs, anyone could see it, and then they started up, bing, bang, boom. You tell me how that’s possible. You can’t. Because it’s not. Everyone knows that. And I’m not going to stand for it. That Lindor, they gave him a walk, they said it was a check swing. That was fixed, the home plate umpire asked the third base umpire but he sent him the signal for ball at the same time he was asking. Anyone could see it. The pitch was right down the middle anyway, maybe the greatest pitch I’ve ever seen. I played first base you know or else I would have been the best pitcher. You know that I could have been a major league ballplayer for sure but there was no money in it back in the day. I would have had to take a pay cut to play, like I did many years later, because I love this country. Anyway, this guy Lindor, Manaea, Iglesias, even the manager Mendoza, where are these people from? They’re coming in, they’re bringing who knows what?! And Alonso, they say his father fled Spain as a refugee and settled in Queens. I’m from Queens, bet you didn’t know that. So, tell me why the father then left for Ohio, tell me that. Everyone knows. And I’m not so sure about this Nimmo either. They say he’s from Wyoming, show me the proof, everyone knows that. And how about the way that ball jumped off Alonso’s bat. Not natural, and I saw the cork fly out from the lumber with my own two eyes like it was popping out of a bottle of cheap Spanish wine, like a bottle of Sangria. Hey, if you can’t trust baseball, what can you trust? We’re gonna straighten this out, restore confidence, end this chaos and carnage once and for all. My lawyers tell me we can’t lose and no way does this next series get started in Philly tomorrow, that’s for sure. And by the way, you saw that crowd, people couldn’t get in, they were reselling tickets for millions of dollars just to get in, selling their dogs, selling their cats, just to get the money to see me. So I’ll see all of you at the Division Series whenever we allow that to get going.”