Regression to the mean can be a cruel thing. Maybe that’s why it’s called “mean.” The Mets seem to be running full-speed, headlong in that direction.
Since busting out 4-0 against Atlanta and Washington, Terry Collins’s crew has gone a definition-of-mediocre 18-20. Much as I hate to say it, perhaps the preseason prognosticators were right: weak starting pitching, a not-improved bullpen and a spotty offense have conspired to dim the hopes and slight bravado of the early going. No one is immune. Even the magnificent Johan Santana has fallen prey to the whimsy of .500. To quote my friend Jason Fry of Faith and Fear in Flushing, “You can’t blow a four-run lead against the Pirates.” Yes, these guys have a lot of that indescribable whatever, variously called “grit,” “heart,” “hunger,” or my personal favorite, “resilience.” They are also very, very young. In their eagerness, they are prone to young player-type mistakes. Kirk Nieuwenhuis doesn’t yell loud enough to s