Text size:

Mets needing big change could cost Randolph job

Johnette Howard

June 13, 2008

If Mets manager Willie Randolph does get fired someday soon, it won't be because he deserves the entire blame for the Mets' play. It'll happen because a change, almost any kind of change, will feel needed after one too many Mets collapses like yesterday, when the hits just kept coming off the Arizona Diamondbacks' bats no matter which reliever the Mets tried after starter Johan Santana. Smith. Wagner. Heilman. The last names didn't matter. All of them stunk.

Randolph didn't blow a big decision. Not one. The game started with great promise. It was a gorgeous day for baseball at Shea, the Mets were coming off a 13-inning win the night before and they had their ace, Santana, on the mound.

But more than one-third into this season, Santana's starts are nothing like the event Pedro Martinez's starts were when he first hit town, bringing electricity with him. The Mets are desperately trying not to slip to a double-digit deficit behind division leader Philadelphia and Santana has been just another guy trying his best in this stubbornly weird and emotionally flat Mets season that lurched into another ravine yesterday with a 10-inning, 5-4 loss to Arizona. It also marked the sixth straight game the Mets had blown a lead.

"It's a bad feeling to get your butt beat," Randolph said.

Johnette Howard Bio | E-mail | Recent columns

He could've added, "Again."

That such a brutal loss came on a day they had Santana pitching only added to the misery. Remember all that spring training rejoicing that acquiring Santana was going to re-energize the Mets, embolden them again, make them forget about last year's September disaster?

Rght now, Santana is lugging around a hard-luck 7-4 record and a fine 2.85 ERA. It isn't all Santana's fault that he hasn't had a contagious effect on the rest of the team. But it is another odd footnote and missing ingredient in this lurching Mets season.

The Mets never seem able to keep anyone healthy, and they seem incapable of keeping anything good going for very long. They're 31-34 and barely in contact with the NL East race. There's no feeling that they're playing for something special. The way they used to pull out games in 2006 and even most of 2007 is a dim memory. Those teams rallied for a lot of wins, had a lot of fun and oozed belief and passion.

This team needs a shrink.

Most of the Mets care, all right. It's performance anxiety that kills them more than apathy. And Santana isn't the only expected catalyst who hasn't had a big visceral effect.

Jose Reyes rarely moves the disillusioned Shea Stadium crowds to break into those sing-song chants for him any more. David Wright isn't inspiring MVP talk. Carlos Beltran is a reluctant front man for the team.

But at least Beltran flung open a rare little window into himself Wednesday night after hitting his game-winning home run. He spoke about how many sleepless nights he and the other Mets have had about their disappointing overall record, not just the five-game losing streak that his homer snapped Wednesday after slumping closer Billy Wagner blew another save in the ninth.

It happened to Wagner again yesterday. Then Heilman allowed a foreboding leadoff double in the 10th ...

"I've seen this movie before," someone in the press box sighed, "and I know how it ends."

Santana was cool, as always, about the bullpen's fold after he'd allowed only three hits, struck out 10 and handed over a 4-0 lead in the eighth. He said he's not one to smash doors or throw things. But he's not a clubhouse spokesman or conscience, either. What he stands for so far is performance. Period.

That's not a huge slam. It's just not the off-the-charts effect the Mets hoped they were getting. Santana just takes the ball. Pitches. Then recedes back into the wallpaper again, unseen and unheard for another five days.

He said all the right things yesterday - "we're all in this together" - and so on. But given how badly the Mets are going, it's fair to wish Santana would do more. Speak out. Pump a fist to get the crowd into the game when he struck out the side in the second. Growl when Randolph wanted to remove him after 116 pitches and say, "Uh uh, this is my game." Do something.

The Mets could use a little buzz, more fight, even if it's manufactured.

"They said it was enough," Santana said.

The result? The pen blew it. And once again, the Mets left their own home field to boos.

Later, by his locker, Wagner hissed how badly he stinks right now. And he's not alone. But it's only Randolph who's twisting again.

This is the same old movie, all right. A horror show.