What was this? https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/NYN/NYN198006140.shtmlhttps://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/NYN/NYN198006140.shtml The Mets were down to the Giants and John Montefusco, 6-0, through five innings, with Mets starter Pete Falcone exiting after only 1 1/3 innings, having yielded five runs. The offense, meanwhile, was being no-hit, managing a single walk through those first five. It was another near-pointless day in the near-pointless existence of the 1980 Mets, with The Count's sinker inducing groundout after groundout after groundout. But Doug Flynn, of all people, led off the sixth with a single. Ron Hodges popped out as a pinch-hitter, and then fate opened a door, as what looked one more groundout by Lee Mazzilli was ticketed for a double-play, but instead led to two on and no out as secondbaseman Rennie Stennett booted it. It's crazy to bunt people over down by six, but Joe Torre is a little crazy, and bunt singles were Frank Taveras' best weapon, so bunt is what Frank did, and damned if he didn't get a hit. A sacrifice fly by Claudell Washington later, and the Mets were on the board, down 6-1. But hope, you may guess, was scarce in those days under any circumstances, even moreso in a five-run hole. But it was Sunday, Father's Day, and so families filled the stadium as much as one may guess Shea Stadium was ever filled at such times (official attendance: 22,918) and damned if folks didn't hang around and try to enjoy the day. The Mets scratched together another modest rally in the eighth, also involving a Taveras infield hit, with Steve Henderson driving home the run. Now, as bad as the 1980 Mets were, Steve Henderson did not get the memo. Henderson had knocked a dozen homers in a half a season as a rookie in 1977, so he and everybody else expected future seasons with twice that and more. But the homers didn't come, and by 1980 he was reinventing himself as a gap-to-gap hitter, and as the team careened toward another fallow season, Hendu was enjoying a revival of a season, akin to Cleon Jones' 1969, mostly eschewing power in favor of finding the outfield grass every chance he got. He had been red hot for two full months at this point, and had his average at .340 going into the afternoon. As the Mets went to the ninth, their loss seemed de rigueur — a fait accompli. If there was going to be any comeback, one imagined that they'd have to find a way to bring the lineup around to Henderson again. But realistically, teams generally don't have much chance coming back from four runs down in the ninth inning, but even moreso, we were dealing with the 1980 Mets. We were dealing with a low-offense team in a low-offense year, in a low-offense park, in a low-offense era. The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day. Reliever Greg Minton had gotten the last out of the eighth and he returned to the mound in the ninth. But it bears repeating. People didn't leave. It was a nice day, it was a family day, new Mets managing partners Nelson Doubleday and Fred Wilpon were in the house, and people didn't leave. Minton just had to get through the wet-noodle back end of the Mets' mostly wet-noodle of a lineup, and people didn't leave. When Elliot Maddox — a punchless outfielder pretending to be a punchless thirdbaseman that season — grounded out, people didn't leave. Up came Doug Flynn, pretty generally understood to be the most relentlessly inoffensive offensive player in the franchise's history. Having gone to the bench early in the game, there weren't too many pinch-hitting options for Joe Torre, so Flynn, unable to dazzle 'em with brilliance, decided to baffle them with bullshit, pushing a bunt toward Stennett and beating it out. People didn't leave. José Cardenál — acquired the previous season from the Phils and switching sides between games of a doubleheader — had entered the game earlier and was hitting in the pitchers spot, and he grounded out to short for the second out. The Mets were one out short of their 29th loss of the season, and the people — and I should have mentioned this earlier, but the crowd included a young Willets Point attending his very first Mets' game with his family — didn't leave. The might have stood up to stretch in some anticipation of the end of the game, but they didn't leave. Top of the order. Lee Mazzilli came up and drove a single to center. Flynn scored, and the tally was now 6-3. A full and complete comeback was still highly unlikely, but hey, everybody had something to cheer about before they left. They didn't leave. Taveras was up again. Will he, like Flynn, bunt again? He offered a bunt, but found his way on instead via a walk, and suddenly people weren't on their feet stretching, but on their feet cheering. The tying run was up, and they didn't leave. The tying run was Claudell Washington, acquired a week earlier and already the team's #3 hitter, despite not yet having a uniform with his name on the back. He drove one to center, scoring Mazzilli, and PEOPLE WERE GOING NUTS!!! But still, sure, how long can they keep this going? Do they have two more hits in them? Because the Mets don't homer. Henderson might have been hitting an unlikely .340, but it's important to note that he had zero homers. It was June 14, and he hadn't homered yet. And please also note, despite that sad, sorry stat, he was batting cleanup. The Giants had seen enough. The hooked Minton and turned to young Allen Ripley. The Talented Mister Ripley was the son of a big leaguer, and he had given up only one earned run in 12 2/3 innings so far this season. He only needed one out. The least likely thing in the world would have been a game-winning three-run homer by Steve Henderson, but people didn't leave ... [media=youtube]Ml6F59_obJk[/media] [FIMG=750]https://leaptoad.com/mets/scorecard_graph.php?game=2987&font=1[/FIMG]