MLB

Stopper vs. slugger the perfect Subway ‘closer’

Somehow, it had gotten to here, to 3-and-2 in the ninth inning, to Mets 6, Yankees 4 at Citi Field, two men out and two men on. Alex Rodriguez was in the batter’s box. Francisco Rodriguez was on the pitcher’s mound.

The remnants of 41,422 (the largest crowd in Citi Field history) sat squarely astride the ultimate sports-fan conundrum: too nervous to watch, too nervous to turn away.

“Right where you want to be,” Alex Rodriguez would say.

“I can’t think of a better spot,” Frankie Rodriguez would say.

They were both right. Where else would you rather be in the homestretch of May, with summer so close you can practically smell the chlorine, kegs and sunblock?

New York versus New York.

Mets versus Yankees.

K-Rod versus A-Rod.

BOX SCORE

“You know what I would appreciate once in a while?” David Wright would ask later, a grin creasing his face. “A nice 9-0 game. That would be nice.”

Not this weekend. Friday night, after spending 82/3 innings in a coma, the Mets arose against the great Mariano Rivera, closing down the stretch like Affirmed, Jason Bay doubling, Ike Davis doubling, Wright chasing Robinson Cano deep into the hole between first and second before the Yankees could put a 2-1 gut-buster into the books.

Saturday it was the Yankees who waited until the backstretch before coming after the Mets’ bullpen, who cut a 5-1 lead to 5-2 and then to 5-3, who forced Rodriguez to throw 28 pitches in recording five outs.

And now there was this: a 6-0 lead shaved to 6-1 after Johan Santana finally left the game in the eighth, now cut to 6-4 thanks to some adventurous pitching by Ryota Igarashi (fresh off the DL) and Rodriguez, who looked like your car as the final few drops of unleaded leak out of the tank.

“He’s quite a competitor,” Mets manager Jerry Manuel would say later, a statement that somehow managed to contain both truth and irony at the same time.

Rodriguez had been helped by a bang-bang call by first-base umpire Derryl Cousins, who called Brett Gardner out on a close play at first, then hurt by a Baltimore chop off the bat of Mark Teixeira, extending the game an extra batter even after fooling the Yankees first baseman badly.

So now, of course, it had to be this: K-Rod versus A-Rod. Tying runs on base. Winning run standing at home plate. Every time the National League plays the American League, we are bombarded with talk about interleague play and its value, and maybe the rest of the world really has grown weary of watching Pittsburgh and Kansas City tangle for inter-circuit bragging rights.

Just not here. Not with these three gems of games. Not with K-Rod fighting back from 2-and-0 and 3-and-1 against A-Rod, not with A-Rod fighting off two tough pitches, fouling them back, not with 17 previous plate appearances between these two in which K-Rod allowed only two hits and one walk to A-Rod, everyone interpreting on the fly if that meant A-Rod was doomed or due.

“It’s a great matchup right there,” A-Rod said. “I got good pitches to hit and fouled them back at 2-and-0 and 3-and-1. You’d like to have those back.”

Five of the first seven pitches were fastballs. Inside the home clubhouse, Santana watched it all unfold on TV, ice pressed against his shoulder and elbow. He said, “I was calm. K-Rod and I are in this 100 percent together.”

Now K-Rod slowly went into his stretch. Derek Jeter took his lead from third base. When K-Rod kicked his left leg, Ramiro Pena (running for Teixeira) took off toward second. K-Rod would never admit he was working more on fumes and heart than anything, would swear “my stamina” was fine, and maybe it was: He unleashed his best changeup of the night.

A-Rod swung right through it. K-Rod pointed to the sky. Bachman-Turner Overdrive came spilling out of the speakers. And a wonderful weekend of New York baseball was officially over. Both sides of the divide could exhale at last.

“I’ll take my chances with that, coming back from six down with a chance to tie,” A-Rod would say later. “I’ll take my chances.”

Less than a month until they all get another chance, and it honestly can’t come quick enough.

Lively Lima not forgotten

We can’t pretend that Jose Lima was anything but a blight when he pitched for the Mets in 2006. On a team that only lost 65 games, he lost four of them — all four of the games when he was giving a starting assignment, in fact — and his 0-4 record was augmented nicely by a 9.87 ERA.

When Lima was given the ball, the teammates in back of him that year were better off wearing track shoes. And yet that Mets’ clubhouse — which was a pretty fun place to be most days as it was — was always a little bit more lively, a bit more interesting, when Lima was around the team.

Pedro Martinez, the anchor of that room, would always scream at the top of his lungs, “IT’S LIMA TIIIIIME!” and it would never fail to break up the room.