THE BOXSCORE doesn’t have a “W” or an “S” or even an “H” (standing for hold, that absurd statistic invented by some nebbish who needs to get out and mingle a little) next to Turk Wendell’s name.
The boxscore doesn’t show that most of the 37,987 who turned out on a sunny day to watch the Mets beat the Dodgers 1-0 at Shea Stadium stood and chanted “Turk! Turk! Turk!” then erupted when he in essence won the game, saved the game and held a tie with a dramatic inning of pitching with guts and a nasty slider among his two shutout innings.
A boxscore says a lot about a baseball game, but it says the least about relievers. Statistics are no way to judge a reliever. It’s how they make your stomach feel when they enter a game, that’s the best way to grade them.
Wendell has a soothing effect on the boilers of Mets loyalists who suffer from stomach pains. He’s an easy watch who both relaxes and energizes those who want the Mets to succeed.
Let’s just say he knows how to handle difficult situations better than Janet Reno. A whole lot better.
Two runners on board, nobody out in the late innings of a tie game spells trouble. Until you see who’s trotting in from the bullpen. No. 99 soothes the heartburn better than any antacid on the market.
Wendell was summoned to face Adrian Beltre with runners on first and second and nobody out in the seventh.
The first time Beltre showed bunt, his face came close enough to the baseball to smell the stitches. He would get the bunt down on the next pitch, but not without first feeling uncomfortable.
This set up the most dramatic confrontation of the game, ex-Met Kevin Elster, the shortstop with nine lives and five home runs, against Wendell, the reliever who wears the teeth of various hunted animals around his neck. Wendell needed a strikeout or a popup to ensure the game remained a scoreless tie for another batter. He threw ball one to Elster, who then took strike one, ripped a foul ball straight back, then took ball two. Vintage Wendell slider, swing and a miss, strike three.
Dave Hansen, the left-handed pinch hitter with a sweet swing and lead in his cleats, came up with first base open and Devon White on deck.
“Left-handed hitter with first base open, I didn’t want to give him something good to hit,” Wendell said. “I tried to get him to pick a little and see if I could get him to get himself out.”
Like the teeth on Wendell’s necklace, Hansen wasn’t biting. He took a four-pitch walk and it was up to White to make the one-day trip to New York worthwhile for the Dodgers, a team against whom the Mets might be racing for a wild card, if the Mets can’t get past the Braves.
Wendell didn’t have the luxury of an open base this time. He had to go right at the hitter, which in his case so often means deceiving the hitter into thinking that pitch that’s so far outside won’t make it to the outside corner, which of course it does with a late break. Strike one, strike two called, ball one, foul ball, ball two, a popup behind home plate, straight into a wicked sun, not a routine play. Mike Piazza picked it up in time to smother it, but just in case, Wendell was there, crouching at Piazza’s side, ready to make a stab at it if it tumbled out of the catcher’s mitt.
The out made White 1-for-8 lifetime against Wendell, which was news to the reliever.
“I just look at him as another left-handed hitter,” Wendell said. “I only keep track of guys who have my number, not guys whose numbers I might have.”
Who has Wendell’s number?
“Chipper Jones,” said Wendell, who pitched a 1-2-3 eighth.
Chipper has a lot of numbers, even if he only has one No. 99. Before the season is out, Wendell will be called upon to face Chipper “Don’t Call Me Larry” in a big spot. He might not get him out, but it won’t be fear that causes him to fail.
Fear, alibis, complaints, Wendell doesn’t have time for that garbage. He leads the majors with 13 appearances and all he has to say about that is: “I love it.” The crowd feels the same way. A game that features Wendell pitching, even on those days and nights he doesn’t spike the resin bag, is a little more enjoyable to watch in the eyes of those who line the Carvel and Dunkin Donuts stands at Shea.
