No Runs, No Hits, No Errors

photo by Mack Ade

In a game that best embodies the 2012 New York Mets, Johan Santana accomplished something on the first night of June, 2012, that no other Met had accomplished in 50 years of baseball in Flushing—he threw a no-hitter.

Every fan will have a different memory of this historic night. The emotions of this evening for Mets fans, coaches, and players cannot be properly described. Built within the emotion of this night there is also concern.

Concern that Mike Baxter, one of the most effective (if not the single most effective) pinch-hitters in baseball, will be okay after a brutal collision with the left-field wall to make a pivotal out.

Concern that Johan Santana and his fragile left shoulder will not be affected by throwing 134 pitches—9 over his career high and a staggering 24 above his pre-determined cap for the season.

But this is concern for another day. Now is a time for Mets fans to celebrate in a historical event many thought they would never see, myself included. This is a time to enjoy this hungry team and its ever-increasing ability to accomplish the amazing.

I cannot help but look at this game as a microcosm of the 2012 Mets. It embodies everything that they have been about this year: teamwork, resilience, and the amazing. Facing the best offensive team in the National League, Johan Santana, in his first season back from a surgery that few pitchers have successfully returned from, did not allow a single batter to reach base via the hit. Santana was the first to acknowledge his teammates. Most notable of them was Maxter, who sacrificed his safety and left shoulder to preserve the gem being hurled by his starter.

This family of a ball club accomplished something few thought they could accomplish and on June 2^nd, 2012, this New York Mets team is six games above .500 and still owns a playoff spot if the season were to end this moment.

The effort the Mets took to make this night happen for fans continues to make me shake my head with awe. Baxter’s catch. Murphy streaking across the diamond to snag a dangerous bloop. Torres dashing in from center to ensure a line drive was snagged before it hit the turf. Also, of course, Johan Santana delivering as perfect a game as Mets fans have ever seen pitched. And Terry Collins, despite the nerve-wracking internal conflict, for leaving him in to do it even after his ace had well crossed his pitch limit.

What about the beauty of this game? That our catcher, who had been sidelined for weeks after making a gutsy play to save a game, returns to be a pivotal part of history. How about Terry Collins calling Santana his hero before Johan had even finished the game? That, through all of the drama occurring on the field, the baseball gods held the threatening rain just long enough to let it unfold. 

Or the luck, simplicity, and randomness of baseball’s rarest event. The humor involved in the celebration after and the horror of an injury during. The catch 2.0. The emotion of a paternal manager and his concern over his family. The reason we all love this game so much. That, on the least assuming of Friday evenings at the dawn of summer, we could witness the extraordinary. 

What I might remember most poignantly, strangely, might be this: After Baxter’s catch, Santana had a look of pure concern for his fielder rather than elation over his outless streak remaining intact. I will never forget that.

Nor will I forget that last pitch thrown by Johan—a changeup that he sent diving towards the plate. A pitch that stays in the zone and is hit if it is a fastball. One that is unhittable if it is a change. The pitch Johan has built his career on and one David Freese had no chance of hitting. The beauty of Johan’s change.

The beauty that the catch of the season and protector of the no-hitter fell into the glove of a kid from Queens.

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Let’s Go Mets!