I could barely watch. Josh Thole made the play, he held onto the ball. But now he was lying face-down behind home plate. He was in pain. There was no way he would be staying in the game. I just wanted to see him sit up. He saved the game, it was still tied, but he gave himself up as so many catchers have done throughout baseball history.
Enter Mike Nickeas. His every move has been dissected and subsequently ripped apart this season. He scoops the first pitch from Tim Byrdak put of the dirt. Well, that's one way to start. It's not the defense I'm anxious about though. The Mets have a runner on with two outs in the ninth. I can't watch. I'll hide behind my hands, the pillows, anything. That's not working, the at-bat is taking too long. Screw it. I'll just watch.
There's no way that's touching the ground. Mayberry's going to catch it. Plop. MIKE NICKEAS. His name leaves my mouth as if a reflex. He got a double! A hit! An extra base hit! The Mets can't lose now! And Jordany Valdespin didn't let them. First major league hit. First major league home run. No big deal, right?
I almost forgot about Josh and the collision. I almost want to make a joke about the principle point of contact being the head and Ty Wigginton getting Shanabanned. But I know Thole is seeing doctors and will probably end up on the Disabled List.
Now I am so beyond thrilled for Mike Nickeas but I'm still worried about Josh Thole.
Now I don't know how to feel.