The Giants out hit the Mets 12 to 9, and outwalked them 6 to 4. They had 14 opportunities with at least one runner in scoring position with four hits; the Mets had just two in eight. San Francisco had one Rafael Devers, who went 3-for-4 with 5 RBIs, New York had no Devers.
What the Mets had, in outscoring the Giants 10 to 6, were homers. Five of them. And, as us baseball-savvy people know, homers are a good way to score runs. Guaranteed, ya know? One swing, one run at least. Efficient. Quick, majestic
sparks that momentarily defy the rules of the world that keep us all earth bound, that force the opposing team to crane their necks and visibly deflate as it rises.
Four batters into the bottom half of the 1st inning, Mark Vientos put New York up by three runs, and the recently re-inflated Giants were back to losing air.
By the end of the 2nd, things had gotten worse. The Mets were up by 7. Francisco Alvarez back-spun a Matt “Tugboat” Wilkinson four-seamer over the right field wall with one out. A walk, a balk, and fielding error by Christian Koss (a real 2026 special) set the table for another run to score on a fielder’s choice before Bo Bichette showed another baseball the door.
That long ball proved to be the decisive coup. Seven runs in — a total that proved out of reach despite the Giants offense putting up a fight against starter Nolan McLean through the middle frames. The fact that McLean had a sweat going, that his adrenaline coursed out of him in one throat-straining, expletive-laced holler of triumph when he froze Christian Koss to end the 6th, as if he just fanned Shohei Ohtani with the bases-loaded in the NLCS, is a testament to the offense’s prickliness.
The adjective “spunk” was used in the broadcast booth to describe the fight of this young, ragtag group: Rafy Devers and the Boys. This kind of outburst from a man who has been one of the best pitchers in baseball since June. McLean strolled onto the mound Friday night having allowed just two runs over his last four starts (25 IP). He had completed six innings in 12 of his last 13 starts, and yet the Giants bats, even down five runs, were under his skin. They made him work. At least two runners reached base in the 3rd, 4th, and 5th innings. The right-hander needed 30 pitches to get through the 3rd. Turner Hill was a pest. He couldn’t figure out a way to retire Devers, who walked in the 1st, led-off the 5th with a double, and scored two with a double in the 3rd.
The offense had McLean in the pot. Things simmered, just never boiled. Jung Hoo Lee was a factor there.
Previous trips to the Big City, Lee’s performances had sports writers giddy with Broadway puns: Lee on the marquee; Lee in lights; Lee belting out the hits. I took it a step further after a power outburst in Yankee Stadium, suggesting his bat somehow dictated the barometric pressure over the Bronx. On his last trip to Flushing, Lee collected seven hits over a three game series.
Not so on Friday night. His at-bats didn’t ratchet up the pressure, they let it dissipate. They didn’t bring the storm for the Giants, rather quelled it for the Mets.
Batting with two on and two out in the 3rd (a split he’s hitting over .300 in), Lee rolled a ground ball to second to end the inning. In the 5th, with the bases loaded and nobody out, a situation primed for Lee’s contact skills to shine, McLean three-pitched him. Perhaps expecting McLean’s devastating and deceptive “no-hump” curveball, Lee ended up watching two sinkers zip by right over the middle of the plate Three pitches later Drew Cavanaugh rolled into a rally-killing double play. Facing lefty reliever Jefry Yan in the 7th, he fanned again with runners on.
That’s seven stranded in total for Lee. The team collectively would leave 11 on base. Unproductive outs kill: they struck out 11 times, compared to New York’s 4.
Devers’ RBI double would be the only runs against McLean. He’d deliver the only other significant swing for San Francisco five innings later in the 8th when his 8-pitch scruff with Austin Warren ended with another baseball deposited in the bleachers.
But that was all that could be mustered. San Francisco peaked at six runs, laboriously building and rebuilding momentum, while New York jumped out ahead and never had to look back. Their offense front-loaded their work against Wilkinson, and against a respectable Yunior Marte (3 ER, 5 IP), lazily extended their lead with ho-hum homers from Francisco Lindor and Alvarez in the 6th and 8th.
Devers’s two run double, his three run homer — it was all just catch-up. Despite the obvious will he exerted on the field — picking a tough, in-between hop in an attempt to start a desperately needed double play; swearing at himself in the dugout after being retired for the first, and only time; fouling off pitch-after-2-strike-pitch against Warren, reacting to each offering “missed” by slapping his helmet to his thigh, chastising the barrel of his bat — the red-hot vet could only make up ground, not pull his team level. One swing can only do so much when you’re fighting gravity, a fight the Giants were in since the 1st, and have been in for months now.
