Since then a lot has gone down. I last wrote about the Mets losing 4 straight to the Phillies and having their National League East lead cut to two games. Now we're 5 up again. On Friday, our September record in Turner Field was 5-21. Now it's 8-21. On Friday afternoon, Pedro Martinez was still a week away from returning to the Mets starting rotation. Today, Pedro is back in the mix earlier than expected after returning yesterday to pitch 5 effective innings in the Mets 10-4 victory over the Reds. On Friday, the Mets were riding a five game losing streak. Today, we've won four in a row. I feel goood.
Pedro's back!***
Flashback to April 13, 2002. I'm a high strung, rabid young Mets fan, and today is my 14th birthday. I've been treated to a Mets game at Shea Stadium by my family and the Burns', good family friends and the clan that produced Got New York Sports? blogger Martin "burnsie fresh" Burns. 7 of us in the upper deck of Shea Stadium, my name on the scoreboard, a brand new Jeremy Burnitz jersey on my back, the whole bit. Al Leiter was pitching, the newly retooled Mets of Roberto Alomar, Mo Vaughn, and high expectations were playing the lowly Montreal Expos, it was to be a perfect day. A young Burnsie Fresh and I even made limited edition K signs for Leiter with a cigarette lighter replacing the K.
All did not quite go as planned. When does it ever? We made it to the game okay and everything, but Leiter got lit up. Like a pile of incriminating Justice Department memos. Whatever he had, he just didn't have it. By the end of the third inning, the Expos had jumped out to a 7-0 lead, with all the runs scored off of Leiter.
But back came the Mets. I don't remember the exact details, but I do remember that a Jeremy Burnitz three-run homer was involved, in addition to a two-run single by Desi Relaford, a pinch hit RBI from Mike Piazza, and a near grand slam by Joe McEwing that turned into a sac-fly when Brad Wilkerson leaped up against the left field fence to rob Super Joe of a home run. Starting in the sixth, though, and by the end of the seventh, the Mets had erased the 7 run deficit and taken an 8-7 lead.
Enter Kane Davis. A young, somewhat promising prospect for the Mets at the time, if you were a rabid fan like me you'd heard his name tossed around in various minor league reports and updates on mid to above-average level prospects in the Mets system. He hadn't started the season with the Mets, but he was considered to be good enough so that with an injury in the bullpen, or something of that nature, he was the first man to be promoted from AAA. I definitely knew who he was, and I was reasonably excited to see him pitch the 8th inning and hopefully hold the lead for Armando Benitez in the ninth.
YikesNope. Kane walked a couple guys, gave up a hit or two, and before you knew it Montreal had come back to tie the game. He was lifted before any further damage could take place, but the Mets were still going to have to rally again if they were going to complete their improbable comeback. 8-8.
A couple innings, a few missed opportunities, and a Robbie Alomar groundout with men on second and third and 2 outs in the bottom of ninth later, Scott Strickland was on to pitch the 11th inning. After a quick out, though, Vladimir Guerrero hit Strickland's first pitch into the left field bullpen for a go-ahead solo home run, and the Expos took a 9-8 lead that they would not relinquish.
"Hey, Kane Davis, I give you a big f*** you!" said the enormously fat man a section over from us in the gray Mets jersey, as he descended towards the upper deck exit after the game ended, 11th beer and 4th hot dog in tow. After all, he had put it perfectly. Ultimately it wasn't Vladimir Guerrero who ruined my birthday; it was Kane Davis. For the entire drive home, I harped about how we had seen a good game, but it could have been a great game. A couple of weeks ago, I was wondering why I was particularly perturbed about the Mets 9-8, 10-inning loss to the Padres, and I think it was because subconciously, it was a painful reminder of that day over five years ago. Mets come back from big deficit, go ahead, lose lead, tie again, end up losing in extras...all that was missing was Kane Davis.
Anyway. Flash forward to Sunday afternoon, about 3:30 or so. I'm driving through DC with my brother, on our way to another appointment to try and find me a place to live because I'm moving down there next weekend. We're on H street, just north of Pennsylvania Avenue, and we're driving right by the White House. It sounds too perfect, but it's actually true. My phone rings. Burnsie Fresh.
"Yo are you watching the Met game?"
"No man I'm in DC. What's going on? Are they winning?"
"Yeahhh man it's 3-1 in the 8th."
"Sweet."
"Yeah dude."
"What's up though, what's going on?"
"So the Phillies, were up 5-0 on the Marlins, right," Martin begins. "And now it's 7-5 Marlins - "
"Sweet," I interject. "Did they lose last night?"
"Yeah." Score. 3 games up again and counting.
Martin cuts me off again. He's clearly got something else to tell me. You might be able to guess where this is going...
"But guess who blew the game for the Phillies?" says Martin.
"Who dude?" I ask patiently.
"Kaane Davis!" he says, saying the last part of Davis over the boisterously gleeful and vengeant laughter I've broken out in. "Kane Davis dude!"
"That's the greatest thing I've ever heard!" I'm still gathering myself and unable to believe what I'm hearing. My brother is looking at me funny and telling me to get off the phone, but I'm thinking only about Kane Davis. He'll just have to understand when I tell him why I'm laughing so hard. Sophocles himself couldn't have written a better story of comedic irony.
"Yeah," says Martin. "That's what Gary Cohen just said on the air. I thought you might appreciate that."
And I did. Burnsie Fresh, of course, was at that fateful game with me, and he was spot on.
There aren't many things you can count on in this world, but the assurance of hearing or being a part of the occasional tale of karma and/or good riddance seems to rank right up there. Kane Davis, who pitched 17 more games with the Mets in that dreadful '02 season and was never heard from again, is back in baseball with the Phillies in a season where they've literally summoned every journeyman or career minor-league reliever imaginable to help out their woeful bullpen...and now he too has been called on. Kane. Davis. I just hope he didn't ruin some Philly kid's birthday. I might feel worse. Then again...
So after the Phillies sweep the Mets last week to trim the division lead to two, Kane Davis helps them give it back. Too perfect. Unscriptable. Wonderfully ironic. And comforting, too, for the notion that in a season of ups and downs for the orange and blue, there's one thing I should have known there was one thing I could always count on...
Kane Davis
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