This Is What We're Talking About

As I attempt to entertain myself this soggy afternoon by watching Brandon Nimmo draw a walk, race to first base, then make ecstatic signals toward the sky—"Thank you, oh Lord, for my ability to distinguish pitches!"—it occurs to me that the collection of baseball wreckage that has washed up on Flushing Bay has once again sunk into Miracle Hoping.

That is the usual state of our New York brethren. Hoping that, somehow, nobody will get hurt, everybody will overachieve, and the obviously inadequate team they have cobbled together will come  up with another miracle season.

Hey, they aren't nicknamed "the Amazins" for nuthin.

Take a look at the strategy that Mickey Callaway has been reduced to, as reported in the Times:

"His original lineup had Bruce in right, Jose Bautista at third base and Kevin Plawecki, normally a catcher, at first in an attempt to jump-start the offense."

Yes, that's their hitting-heavy offense:  Bruce, Bautista, and Plawecki. Though of course even that didn't come off because Bruce couldn't play, and they lost 7-1 in 14.

After completely collapsing with injuries and flameouts last year, the Mets went out—and got older. Their average batter is now 29.1, their average pitcher now 28.3—the oldest in their division on both counts, save for  the Nationals' pitchers. The Yankees' batters, by contrast, average 27.2; their pitchers, 28.6—a figure that will be cut in half once CC retires.

Alphonso and some of the rest of us here are notorious "prospect huggers." The real term should be "depth huggers."

Every year, it seems, the Mets try to slip by with little depth, a tatterdemalion lineup, and pitchers who may or may not get through May without hitting the DL.

They are a living, breathing example of why you need depth.