Sandy Alderson is an awfully smart guy, so he should know a traumatized fan base isn't necessarily buying the explanation they're hearing about Noah Syndergaard's injury. The GM said the lat and biceps are separate components of the throwing-mechanism and that an injury to one had nothing to do with the other. Cut through the fancy footwork and what you hear is a franchise that got burned taking shortcuts with its best pitcher's health, now saying: don't blame us.
The general manager spoke to reporters before Monday night's game against the Braves, making his case eloquently, often convincingly. Like we said, the Ivy-educated Alderson is more than a match for his questioners, but he and the Mets remain vulnerable in one key area _ the MRI they allowed Syndergaard to skip.
The club's defense is to say no exam could've predicted the torn lat. Doctors believed there was no connection between the soreness Syndergaard experienced four days ago when he couldn't lift his arm above his shoulder _ and the devastating injury he suffered near the armpit on Sunday. But that still doesn't satisfy the Mets' obligation to gather as much information as possible before letting Syndergaard take the ball against the Nationals.
No matter what Alderson says, no matter how many doctors' opinions he cites, he knows the Mets didn't take every last precaution to keep Syndergaard safe. Maybe an MRI would've revealed nothing. But maybe it would have. Even if there was a one percent chance of finding that red flag, it was the Mets' responsibility to investigate.
Yet, the Mets refused to acknowledge this could've turned out differently. Instead the franchise suffered its most damaging pitching loss since Dwight Gooden was admitted to rehab in 1987. There is no replacement for a healthy Syndergaard _ and that includes Jacob deGrom, a terrific starter, and Matt Harvey, who's evolving into a better, smarter pitcher in the post-surgery part of his career.
Syndergaard was more talented than both, arguably better than any right-hander in the game. No one threw harder, no one put more fear in hitters' heads. The Mets were a different team with Syndergaard on the mound. He made them feel unbeatable; to a large degree they were.
But Syndergaard fell in love with his fastball _ or, more specifically, the feeling of being indomitable. That's why he went crazy in the gym over the winter, not because he was looking for a beach body. Thor was already built like an action hero. No, it was so he could throw harder, as if 100-mph wasn't enough.
The Mets were concerned that Syndergaard would push his arm beyond its limits. They told him to take it easy with the weights. But the right-hander started to believe he was indeed an action hero, adding layers of new muscle without bothering to pick a ball for months.
The Mets ultimately had no control of Syndergaard's regimen, but they were aware that an expert no less renown than Tom House predicted a crash. And there was the red flag, last Tuesday at Citi Field, when Syndergaard's biceps tightened up. Just like the Mets feared. Just like House prophesied.
So how does anyone in the organization live with having allowed Syndergaard to blow off an MRI? Because they were worried about antagonizing him? Alderson said the doctors were only recommending the MRI, not ordering one, and that Syndergaard threw a problem-free bullpen session after missing the start against the Braves. So all good, right?
Not really. Thor was on the mound just days after being too stiff to lift his arm, let alone pitch against Atlanta. Yet, Syndergaard told the Mets he was fine; he was adamant about it. He was so forceful Alderson chose to back down, glibly telling reporters "I can't him down and force into the tube." This was one case where the GM should've reverted to his Marine training and, short of pulling rank on a club employee, make it clear it was in his best interests to be thorough.
It wouldn't have damaged Alderson's sterling reputation to own up to this shortfall _ to say, we could've done a little more, we might've uncovered one more detail that might've kept Syndergaard off the mound on Sunday. Instead, the right-hander will likely be gone for months, not weeks. Remember, a similarly torn lat cost Steven Matz two months on the DL in 2015. And that's not counting the time it will take Syndergaard to overcome the fear of re-injury every time he lets loose.
There's one more lesson here, too: if Syndergaard paid the price for over-development of his arm and shoulder muscles, maybe the Mets will be proactive about their hurlers' offseason programs. Or maybe Syndergaard's teammates will get smarter on their own.
As for the Mets, there's seems to be no end to the steady blur of mistakes. Time after time, year after year, the injuries, the misdiagnoses and poor after-care continue to haunt the club. When does it stop? Alderson knows the Mets' legacy was toxic before he arrived in 2011 and remains so to this day.
To his point, Alderson spoke nothing but the truth.
"I certainly believe that reputation was here," he said. "And I don't seem to have done anything to improve it."