PORT ST. LUCIE — Mets stars Pete Alonso, Francisco Lindor and Jeff McNeil were summoned to face new Mets sensation Kodai Senga for a stadium pitching display Sunday, and club bigwigs, including owner Steve Cohen and board member Chris Christie, witnessed the earlyspring intrigue from a spot on the field. Senga impressed, reportedly hitting 98 mph while flashing the pitch he’s most famous for — the ghost forkball, which may or may not actually exist.
When Senga was done with a nice, improved pitching performance versus the trio of stars and before a host of Mets luminaries, he received a fist bump from pitching coach Jeremy Hefner and some nice applause from at least Alonso and Lindor.
The two-day turnaround from Senga — the most watched man even in a Mets camp stocked with stars — was something to behold. Only Friday, Senga was bouncing pitches left and right in a bullpen session that didn’t inspire much confidence, or hope. Either Senga has adjusted quickly to all the differences in American baseball, or he is mostly a “game player.” By early-spring standards, this was quite the attention-grabber of a “live BP” session.
The concern from only two days earlier, when Senga threw an obviously shaky session, was replaced by a happier controversy about whether his darting split-fingered fastball or forkball is really a unique pitch worthy of its own title of ghost forkball. Senga himself doesn’t dare call it that. But Alonso, ever the sport, and obviously a very smart marketing man as well as the team’s best power hitter, described the darting pitch, which got Alonso for a strikeout, as having a “unique shape,” and even used the preferred terminology (at least used by we mythmakers in the media) as a “ghost pitch.”
Lindor and McNeil played along to a slightly lesser degree. But Mets manager Buck Showalter, ever the stickler, was having none of it.
“You won’t hear me calling it a ghost [forkball],” Showalter declared.
“He didn’t name it,” the manager added, apparently giving him credit for not triggering the folktale. (Showalter was correct on that but he obviously just doesn’t get the whole marketing thing.)
Whatever you call it, Senga — the Mets’ high-priced Japanese import — in 48 hours had happily changed the subject from the adjustments he needs to make to changes in terminology. Senga himself described that Friday bullpen in English as “so-so” (he obviously knows a phrase for less than great), when his pitches ranged from head level to buried in the dirt.
Only two days later, it became more evident why the Mets paid $75 million over five years to bring in Senga to replaced Chris Bassitt — their most consistent starter a year ago — in the middle of the Mets’ vaunted rotation. It isn’t exactly clear whether he’s already making the necessary adjustments to the bigger ball and the steeper slope of the mound (the real issue, according to him), or simply thrives on increased attention.
“He did very well, he threw strikes and controlled the zone better than he has done in bullpen sessions,” one Mets person said. “He made a very nice step forward today. Still a ways to go, but better.”
Cohen, Christie and their entourage stationed themselves between a batting cage and the netting behind home for optimal viewing. But of course no one had a better view than the trio of Mets stars, who appeared here to give Senga his first early test. While McNeil roped the first pitch — a 98 mph heater to deep center — and Lindor also hit a bullet to the same area, the trio expressed faith in Senga’s ability and relief they won’t have to face him for real.
“He looked really good, really sharp. His stuff looks really good, nice and crisp,” Alonso said. “I’m happy he’s on our side.”
Senga himself said he threw only one good splitter (or forkball or ghost pitch, whatever you want to call it), the one that fooled Alonso for a strikeout. But while Showalter apparently isn’t a fan of mythology (and another Mets person, another resident spoilsport, proclaimed, “that’s just the forkball — split-fingered fastball”), Mets players seemed to relish in the mythmaking.
“It’s a different shape of a pitch,” McNeil said.
“You don’t really see it over here. It’s a really unique shape. It’s his own pitch,” Alonso said.
Alonso was asked to describe it, but decided he didn’t see it well enough.
“That’s why it’s a ghost pitch,” he declared.
Senga revealed that the pitch originally got its fun nickname about a decade ago when his forkball (or split-fingered fastball) “disappeared” in the words of hitters who were flummoxed by it.
Whatever one calls it, the whole performance had to be welcome for all concerned. Senga himself said he was surprised to be called upon to pitch to real hitters so soon after such a brutal bullpen session.
But while Showalter said Senga seemed “amped up,” it clearly worked out.
“I was super, super-focused,” Senga said. “It was a lot of fun.”
More important to Mets people, it had to be a relief.
