Yanks' quest for three-peat alive and well

NEW YORK -- If it weren't for the deafening cheers of "Bobby" that roared around Shea Stadium as one of the all-time playoff masterpieces gained steam, Bobby Jones probably would have been wondering whether he had turned into somebody else.

Actually, he was probably wondering the same thing back in June when the Mets politely asked him to go back to the minor leagues to work on restoring his "stuff" and confidence, both of which had been decimated by one early-season shelling after another.

Bobby J. Jones' clutch performance sets up the Mets for an NLCS showdown with the red-hot Cardinals.(AP)

Jones, who has more seniority on these Mets than anyone but John Franco, could have refused the assignment, as so many in his cleats would. But the 30-year-old Jones knew the Mets were going to be around come October, and he knew that he had to fix himself if he wanted to be a part of it.

So it was almost surreal to see Jones playing the biggest part in the game that vaulted the Mets to the NLCS for the second consecutive year.

How best to describe just how good Jones was in the Mets' 4-0 Division Series clincher against the Giants on Sunday?

Except for the fifth inning, when he allowed a hit and two walks to load the bases, he was perfect. Eight perfect innings for a pitcher who has never had much experience with perfection.

This from a pitcher whose career year was 1997, when he went 15-9. Jones is like a lot of third or fourth starters around baseball. He's usually dependable. He'll eat some innings. But he typically doesn't twirl one-hitters in playoff clinchers.

So this was the backdrop as Jones pitched a complete game, one-hit shutout on the 44-year anniversary of Don Larsen's World Series perfect game. It was the first one-hit shutout in postseason play since Boston's Jim Lonborg did it against St. Louis in 1967.

"Yeah, it was hard to believe," admitted Giants manager Dusty Baker. "Bobby Jones was like .281 against the league and gave up a bunch of home runs."

Jones, as low key as they come, might have been a more shocked by the shocking events if a rather significant someone hadn't predicted it.

Said Mets manager Bobby Valentine: "I ran into Bobby's wife last night and she said, 'Is Bobby pitching tomorrow?' I said, 'Yes, he is.' And she said, 'You won't be sorry, he's pitching the game of his life.'"

The story would have been, well, almost not believable if Jones hadn't backed Valentine's version.

"She told me the same thing," said Jones. "It was a good call because it was probably the best game I ever pitched."

Maybe the best he ever will.

Such is the luck of these wild-card Mets, who shook off a Game 1 loss and pulled out a pair of exhilarating extra-inning victories before riding Jones to this ouster against the Giants, who saw a bitter end after posting the best record in baseball this season.

Though this was Game 4, it had the feel of a decisive game for the Mets. They would have had to fly across the country to face Livan Hernandez -- who has never lost in the postseason -- in Monday's Game 5.

Not much separated the Mets and Giants, something that became apparent as the series wore on. But the Mets had a little more of that playoff swagger and experience, something they had started to gain in a dramatic run a year ago that ended two wins short of the World Series.

This was why it was so big for Jones to mow down the Giants before they could grab their confidence. Before Barry Bonds could rediscover the life in his bat.

The Mets, who have struggled offensively the last couple of months, gave Jones all he would need when Robin Ventura broke out of his brutal slump with a 2-run homer in the first.

On the day after both bullpens had been taxed in a 13-inning, 5 hour and 22 minute game, this game, according to venerable Giants manager Dusty Baker, would come down to "which starting pitcher would take their team deepest into the game."

Jones went as deep as he could. He went the distance. And he had a hard time describing what was so different on the best day he has ever had.

"My stuff was just really good and my command was better," Jones said. I've said it before that if I'm not hitting my spots, then I'm going to give up hits."

Obviously, Jones gave up a few of them this season. His record was 11-6 with an ERA of 5.06. And out of nowhere, he came up with this.

"It was just textbook pitching out there," raved Mets catcher Mike Piazza, who didn't drive in a run in the series. "He was just preying off their hitters' aggressiveness. He was putting it on the corners."

Jones would have done anything to find the corners with any sense of regularity back in April and May. But less than a year removed from surgery, his mechanics were off, his fastball didn't quite have that zip.

"For me, it was a very easy decision," Jones said about going to Triple-A Norfolk. "At the time I wasn't helping the ballclub. The only reason I accepted it was because I wanted to be back and be part of this and to play in the postseason. If I was pitching like I was earlier in the year, I would not be here right now."

And the Mets, at the very least, probably would have been on a plane back to San Francisco instead of resting up for the NLCS.