I have a friend who's a big Mets fan (first sign this is a bad article). He's a big sports fan, and I mean like pretty much all sports, but he cares more about the Mets than any other team. One of his things is that he's always complaining about blown calls or general bad reffing. It's part of what makes him annoying, and it's part of his charm. That's the guy, that's the guy who's always got some complaint. On June 1, Johan Santana no-hit the Cardinals. On Facebook (second sign this is a bad article), my friend posted about how it was one of the happiest moments of his life, and when somebody else noted the blown call on the fair/foul ball, my friend told him that blown calls happen, and that he shouldn't diminish the moment.
Johan Santana And The Lingering Question
Johan Santana threw 134 pitches in completing the New York Mets’ first-ever no-hitter. In two starts since, he has not been very good. It’s probably nothing. It’s nothing, probably.
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That’s how amazing the moment was for my friend, and for Mets fans everywhere. Ordinarily, my friend is an equal-opportunity complainer. He’ll complain whether his side got a call or didn’t. When Johan Santana threw the first no-hitter in Mets history, it changed my friend as a person. He was, for once, at peace.
For so many teams, a no-hitter is a no-hitter. It's great and all, and it's something you'll remember for a while if not for the rest of your life, but it isn't a championship. Last Friday the Mariners no-hit the Dodgers, and it was neat. For Mets fans, Santana's no-hitter was like winning a championship. After so many years and so many close calls, finally, just finally. It was something most fans can't relate to. Having a streak that long was unique to Mets fans, so the sensation of seeing the streak end was unique to Mets fans.
In order to complete the no-hitter, Santana threw 134 pitches. He’d never before thrown more than 125 pitches, and when he threw 125 pitches, he wasn’t coming off major shoulder surgery.
Terry Collins agonized over whether to leave Santana in. He acknowledged that a part of him wanted to see the game broken up, so he could get Santana out of there. Ultimately, he stuck with Santana because you don’t want to be the guy who interferes with that sort of history in the making, but he did so not without concern. It was important for the Mets to treat Santana with caution this year. In a no-hitter, Santana threw 134 pitches.
Now the no-hitter is two starts back. Santana's climbed the hill two more times since making history, facing the Yankees and the Rays. He's lasted a combined ten innings, allowing a combined ten runs. He's allowed four home runs, and he's allowed five walks. He's struggled with his command, as he hasn't spotted his pitches like he'd like to. One has to wonder if this is a consequence. One has to wonder if Santana and Collins and the Mets are paying the price for their moment.
No, probably not. It probably is just that simple. I might point out to you that Santana hasn’t had any problems with his pitch speeds since the no-hitter. His fastball has been around 87-90, as before. His changeup has been around 76-78, as before. His slider has been around 79-82, as before. Santana hasn’t been lacking oomph any more than he was.
I might point out to you that Santana hasn’t had any problems with dropping his arm slot. Oftentimes, when a pitcher is tired or injured, he will start to release the ball lower. I won’t show you all the pretty graphs I looked at, but in looking at those graphs, I didn’t see any evidence that Santana’s release point has changed.
I might point out to you that Santana has still missed bats. Against the Yankees and the Rays, Santana has seen 73 swings, and 22 of those swings have whiffed. Maybe you don’t know what would be an average number of whiffs, but Santana has generated a lot, even while allowing runs.
And I might point out to you that, sure, Santana has thrown just 56 percent of his pitches for strikes the last two times out. But then, in his no-hitter, he threw just 57 percent of his pitches for strikes, and walked five guys. In his first start after the no-hitter, he was on abnormal rest. This isn’t convincing evidence.
Johan Santana's results have been mediocre since the big night, but digging deeper, there's not much reason to believe that now he's all out of whack as a consequence. Everything's still there but pinpoint command, and command can come and go, especially when a pitcher's knocked out of his routine. Johan Santana throwing 134 pitches is probably not going to cause much in the way of long-term damage.
Probably. The most we can say is probably. If I were a believer in fortune and narratives, I might have some fun with this. Mets fans might've figured they got the break they needed when that fair ball was ruled foul. Without that call, the Mets' streak is still going, pending the R.A. Dickey appeal results, if that game even still happens. Thanks to that call, Santana was allowed to keep working toward a 134-pitch no-hitter.
But what if, in throwing 134 pitches, Santana hurt himself? Not immediately, but in a way that’s revealed over time? What if Santana were to continue to allow runs? What if Santana were to end up on the disabled list again? Santana’s a big reason why the Mets are where they are in the standings, and without him, the team’s a lot weaker. What if, in the long run, Mets fans were to curse that blown call, rather than praise it? What if the 2012 Mets’ greatest triumph also turned out to be the 2012 Mets’ greatest disaster?
That would be very classically Mets, in a monkey’s-paw sort of way. “You can have this win, at a cost you can’t imagine.” It would dissolve right into their characteristic torrent of bad luck and bad news from which they only now appear to be emerging.
But yeah, no, probably not. Narratives aren’t predictive, and Johan Santana is probably fine. He’s probably not going to turn into a pumpkin because he threw 134 pitches in a game, the last several dozen of which were fueled by adrenaline. Probably.
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