Sometimes the bad guys win. As Met fans who experienced the ‘80s, we should know this by now. Such was their reputation that there’s even a book on the 1986 Mets called The Bad Guys Won. On the day we booed Chase Utley, we also cheered for the surviving members of the ‘86 Mets for their 30th anniversary, including Lenny Dykstra. He was the little engine that could and would slam into the outfield wall to help his team. Fans of a certain age idolized Dykstra for his toughness, which earned him the nickname “Nails.” In 1987, he released a book with the same name, a riveting yarn perhaps best known for the excessive use of the phrase, “I call bullshit on that.”
Off the field, Dykstra got into a lot of trouble, piling up slimy incidents way too numerous to list, and eventually went to prison. Last year, around the time the Mets returned to the World Series, he claimed on Colin Cowherd’s radio show that he gave private investigators $500,000 to follow umpires so they could gather dirt on them. He then used the information to ensure favorable calls at the plate.
Blackmail is sleazy and indefensible, but home plate umpire Adam Hamari might give you second thoughts after his disgraceful conduct over the weekend. Ejecting the Mets ace Noah “Thor” Syndergaard for throwing a pitch behind Utley was an embarrassingly unprofessional call. Usually, pitchers get a warning, yet Hamari saw fit to put himself before the game, taking out one of the most dynamic players in baseball. People paid to see the Mets and Dodgers, not some guy who isn’t playing and whose name nobody knew up until then.
Now there’s talk about Syndergaard getting suspended. To review, Utley breaks another man’s leg, gets suspended for two games, appeals the suspension so he’s active for the reminder of the playoffs, only to have MLB drop the suspension in March. So Utley technically didn’t miss any time after purposely, brutally injuring someone, while Syndergaard was penalized for purposely not hurting Utley, and throwing behind him. I call bullshit on that.
To add further insult to literal injury, Utley later hit two home runs, the second one a grand slam, as the Mets lost 9-1. There’s also the humiliation of having almost everyone from the most celebrated team in Mets history watch this go down, a group of men who would’ve actually chased Utley had he done the same thing to one of their own.
Throughout this entire time, Utley has maintained a steady, faux-innocent expression that asks, “Who, me?” Yeah, you. Never mind that he and his wife have raised over $45,000 for the Pennsylvania Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Or that he went up to the plate to Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” while playing in Philadelphia. Or how he’s the kind of hard-nosed, clutch player that might’ve fit right in with the ‘80s Mets. Wait a minute, what did he do again?
Meanwhile, Ruben Tejada, the player whose broken fibula had us, like Judas Priest, “Screaming for Vengeance” in the first place, wasn’t even on the team anymore. He was released during Spring Training, picked up by the Cardinals, then designated for assignment this past Saturday, the same day this all happened at Citi Field. Further proof that God exists and follows baseball; Tejada was born on October 27th, 1989, exactly three years after the Mets won the World Series. Granted, it wasn’t on the same day, but you get the idea. October 27th is akin to a beloved holiday for Mets fans, immediately conjuring the image of Jesse Orosco’s glove seemingly disappearing into the nocturnal Flushing autumn sky, and never coming down. Judging from the exhilaration we still feel 30 years later, none of us have come down.
However, while the 2016 Mets may have what the ’86 team song, “Let’s Go Mets Go,” described as, “the teamwork to make the dream work,” Saturday showed that occasionally things don’t work out. Ask Lenny Dykstra. Or anyone else for that matter. It’s not always ’86. That’s baseball. That’s life.
Matt Leinwohl