If you were wondering, Adam Wainwright's career batting line now looks like this: 226 at-bats, 13 doubles, one triple, five home runs, eight walks, .243/.268/.376. It's not a lot, but considering the relentlessness with which Tony La Russa used to put Craig Paquette into the everyday lineup it's not a bad deal to get an extra copy of him batting ninth on days when the 1-or-1A starter is scheduled to pitch.
It might not instill a lot of confidence to have that spare Paquette become a crucial cog in the lineup the day after the Cardinals struggled against every pitcher but one in the Mets' staff, but regardless of the team's perceived insistence on them I'm claiming the two home runs as evidence of a team that can hit and will hit, once line drives stop following those worn paths to the infielders.
But the big news: Wainwright, Wainwright, Wainwright, all over the place. Saving the bullpen! Getting on base! Gently stretching Yadier Molina's aching knees between innings! His 22 strikeouts against five walks are the story of his season to this point—a remarkable economy of pitches that's held up even as his strikeout rate lurches toward that batter-an-inning mark. His peripherals are now better than they were as a reliever, and in his ability to put teams away and keep it under three hours' worth of fuss he is positively Carpenterian by now. I figured he'd be good—though not this good—but who knew he'd be so aesthetically pleasing, too?
I've got to run early today—there's packing to do. But it was heartening, finally, to see Colby Rasmus continue to turn himself into a supercharged version of 2001 Mark McGwire—he's now hitting .188/.366/.500. With gold glove defense!