It was May 11th at Citi Field, and Johan Santana had the Braves on the Tomahawk chopping block.  The score was tied at 1, and the earned run count for Santana was 0. So it was to everyone’s confusion that Jerry Manuel trotted out to the mound with one on and one out in the sixth to tell Johan that he was done for the night.

In case you missed it the first time, let me repeat myself. The score was tied at 1, and the earned run count for Johan was 0.

So what was the problem?  The problem was that Santana had thrown 108 pitches, putting him over the preordained 100-pitch limit. After the game, Santana claimed that he was feeling fine — that Manuel hadn’t even bothered to ask. So what gives?  Are we so wed to the rules about pitch counts that that we don’t even have that discussion before yanking a pitcher from a game anymore?  Even when we’re dealing with arguably the best pitcher in baseball? (Yes, recent setbacks notwithstanding. I think we can all acknowledge this to be the case.)

In case you’re curious about the outcome of this maneuvering, the Mets lost that one — 8-3.  Bullpen collapse.

But what does a game that took place on May 11^th have to do with anything?  The answer to that question is everything.

You see, it’s not just about pitch count. Though, that is becoming more and more of a prohibitive issue. (For more on that, you might want to read Bill James’ recent interview in Sports Illustrated if you haven’t already.)  It’s about being too formulaic — too committed to a plan to be able to gauge what’s happening working with it.

Joe Girardi has let it be known in no uncertain terms that Phillip Hughes is a full-fledged reliever now.  In fact, I think his words might have been, “He is a full-fledged reliever now.”  Moreover, he’s a reliever who Girardi has said he could see using for multiple innings.  So, given all this, why not treat him as such?

Last night, Hughes had yet another terrific outing, retiring the Mariners in nine pitches in the 7^th. Yet, Brian Bruney — ailing elbow and all — comes in to take over in the 8^th.  Why, you ask?  Because he’s our 8th inning guy. And that’s what we do.

Bruney gave up two runs to tie the game. The Yanks ultimately came back to win, but that’s beside the point.

I understand the anxiety about pitchers and their arms — that the dynamics have shifted since big money salaries have entered into the picture. But if you’re managing the Mets, and you have Johan Santana on the mound, you keep him there. That is, unless he gets struck by lightning, gives up ten runs in the third or tells you his arm is about to fall off, you keep him there. Barring all of the aforementioned circumstances, Johan Santana is the best you’ve got. Period. If you’re managing the Yankees, and Phil Hughes brings you easily through the 7th, you leave him in to start the 8th.  Why? Because at the moment, he’s better than Bruney.  Hell, sometimes, you even bring in Mo to face a batter in the 8^th.

There, I said it.

When Sandy Koufax was a pitcher, if the score was tied or he was only up by a run or two in late innings, he always stayed in the game.  Why?  Because the goal was to win, and there was no pitcher more likely to help the Dodgers meet that goal than Koufax.

One game does not a season make, and every manager must constantly take into account the big picture.  Still, every win counts, as does every loss. When the win is within your grasp, you do what you can to take it. Even if it’s not part of the game plan. Your season may depend on it.

In baseball, as in life, it’s good to come armed with a plan.  However, as the saying goes, people make plans, and God laughs. So, in baseball, as in life, always be prepared to improvise.