I imagine you could do this at any park of an also-ran, but people tend to relish this sort of thing much more when the Mets are involved.
The Wall Street Journal purchased a decibel meter and went to Monday’s Mets game:
As the Mets took the field to the sound of “Meet the Mets,” the stadium noise reached 80 decibels. The Center for Hearing and Communication lists sounds equivalent to 80 decibels as “pop-up toaster,” “doorbell,” “ringing telephone” and “whistling kettle.”
And that was among the louder moments of the evening. As Mets pitcher Jenrry Mejia threw the game’s first pitch, the noise level was 66 decibels. For most of the night, it held steady around 65, putting it in the same range as “washing machine” and “electric toothbrush.”
Whatever. Frankly, I’d be way more dismissive of a fan base that came and made crazy noise for a lousy team. Because while is loyalty is laudable, there comes a time when too much of it turns into delusion. Nothing wrong with going to a lousy team’s late season game in a mostly empty stadium and not screaming your head off.
Sounds pretty enjoyable actually.
The Rays started Sergio Romo on back-to-back days and if that sounds weird to you, you’re not alone. Romo, of course, was the star closer for the Giants for a while, helping them win the World Series in 2012 and ’14. He’s been a full-time reliever dating back to 2006, when he was at Single-A.
In an effort to prevent lefty Ryan Yarbrough from facing the righty-heavy top of the Angels’ lineup (Zack Cozart, Mike Trout, Justin Upton), Romo started Saturday’s game, pitching the first inning before giving way to Yarbrough in the second. Romo struck out the side, in fact. The Rays went on to win 5-3.
The Rays did it again on Sunday afternoon, starting Romo. This time, he got four outs before giving way to Matt Andriese. Romo walked two without giving up a hit while striking out three. The Angels managed to win 5-2 however.
Despite Sunday’s win, Cozart wasn’t a happy camper with the way the Rays used Romo. Via Fabian Ardaya of The Athletic, Cozart said, “It was weird … It’s bad for baseball, in my opinion … It’s spring training. That’s the best way to explain it.”
It’s difficult to see merit in Cozart’s argument. It’s not like the Rays were making excessive amounts of pitching changes; they used five on Saturday and four on Sunday. The games lasted three hours and three hours, 15 minutes, respectively. The average game time is exactly three hours so far this season. I’m having trouble wondering how else Cozart might mean the strategy is bad for baseball.
It seems like the real issue is that Cozart is afraid of the sport changing around him. The Rays, like most small market teams, have to find their edges in slight ways. The Rays aren’t doing this blindly; the strategy makes sense based on their opponents’ starting lineup. The idea of valuing on-base percentage was scoffed at. Shifting was scoffed at and now every team employs them to some degree. Who knows if starting a reliever for the first three or four outs will become a trend, but it’s shortsighted to write it off at first glance.