Rob Thomson botches Zack Wheeler decision in playoffs — again — this time, in Phillies’ Game 2 loss

ATLANTA — I went to the bathroom like I do every seventh-inning stretch, hating the stretch as I do. There, I joined a brief forum regarding whether we’d next see José Alvarado, the lefty who’d been warming, or Jeff Hoffman, the righty who takes less time to warm up than it takes me to go to the bathroom.

Because, of course, Zack Wheeler was toast.

Rob Thomson’s a hell of a manager, and I’m ride-or-die with Topper, but you don’t always get to ride. Wheeler — his best pitcher; arguably, his best player — is a blind spot for him. At least, he is in the playoffs. In Game 6 of the World Series, Thomson didn’t give Wheeler enough rope. In Game 2 of the National League Division Series, he gave him too much.

He’s going to want to flush these decisions.

Wheeler carried a no-hitter into the sixth, when he gave up a two-out walk, for which Trea Turner was secretly grateful, since Wheeler would have had a perfect game going if Turner hadn’t clanked a ground ball to start the second inning.

» READ MORE: Phillies bullpen can’t close out the Braves in Game 2 as the series heads to Philly tied

The walk to Ronald Acuña Jr., which began the Braves’ third trip through the lineup, was first indicator. The subsequent single by Ozzie Albies was the second (Acuna scored on another Turner error). The called third strike to Austin Riley, really, was the third indicator, because it wasn’t a strike, but maybe the umpire, like the rest of us, figured Wheels — who’d been squeezed a bit — deserved a break after such a magnificent outing.

Wheeler did deserve a break, but he didn’t get one from his manager.

Instead of inserting Alvarado, who was ready, or Hoffman, who’s always ready, Thomson sent Wheeler back out there.

“I wanted him to go back out,” Thomson said. “He said he was fine. And he still looked it.”

Sorry, but no, Wheeler didn’t look like he’d looked early. And Wheeler knew it:

“Topper asked if I was good. I said, ‘Yeah. Just get somebody ready.’”

Just get somebody ready?

“I felt fine,” Wheeler continued.

Fine.

Not great. Not good. Fine.

Fine doesn’t get you through the best lineup in recent history, the third time through it. Fine gets you blasted by the best lineup in history, the third time through it.

Granted, 85 pitches isn’t a lot for an ace like Wheeler, who threw 100 five days before. Further, second-guessing 85 pitches versus the 70 Wheeler threw in the World Series might seem like splitting hairs, but here’s the difference: Wheeler was dealing after 70 pitches in the World Series, and he was spent after 85 on Monday. Wheeler began the night hitting 98 mph-plus. He finished the sixth inning barely scraping 96, and his fastball was flatter than the guy who sings “God Bless America” here.

Matt Olson ripped that lifeless fastball to center field for a single. One out later, Travis D’Arnaud, who was 8-for-23 against Wheeler, went 9-for-24: He ripped a lollipop, tee-ball, hanging sweeper (that was more like a floater, in many respects) into the Phillies’ bullpen, and maybe beyond. That closed the gap to 4-3, and, while it didn’t lose the game, it gifted the Braves momentum they hadn’t earned.

Hoffman finally cracked, in the eighth, and gave up another two-run bomb, and that, ultimately, was the difference in the 5-4 final that evened the best-of-five series at a game apiece as it moves to Philadelphia on Wednesday night.

But that homer was the end of things for Wheeler. No matter what followed — no matter whether the Phillies hung on or came back or whatever — it amplified greater, nagging doubt about how Thomson and his staff handle their pitchers.

Like us guys in the washroom, Wheeler sounded like he didn’t consider his return for the seventh a possibility, but hey, we’re the guys in the washroom for a reason, and he’s hired help. Instead of six innings with no earned runs, he got 6⅓ with two earned runs.

This was no small thing. The Braves are baseball’s best offense since the 1975 Reds, and maybe since the 1927 Yankees, and, by advanced metrics, the best ever. The Phillies’ bullpen is good, trending great. It dealt 5⅓ scoreless innings in relief of Game 1 starter Ranger Suárez. That was two days before, so it was rested.

Wheeler had nothing left to pitch for, and little left in his tank. Thomson couldn’t see it. This was an aberration for Thomson.

After clinching the top wild-card slot, Thomson spent the last five games masterfully preparing his lineup and his pitching staff for another wild ride back to the World Series. He didn’t miss a trick entering Game 2 of the NLDS.

Thomson started light-hitting outfield whiz Cristian Pache in left field in both wild-card games, and Pache made brilliant plays for the first out of each game.

Before Game 1 here, Thomson didn’t tell Suárez that Suárez was on tight leash, since the bullpen was well-rested and since Suárez lately had been less dependable than a British sports car. Suárez was blissfully ignorant and practically un-hittable.

Thomson’s Game 2 lineup, against lefty ace Max Fried, went left-right-right-left-right-right-left-right-right. The right-handers got five of the six hits and drove in all three of the four runs off Fried.

It’s unkind that Thomson has to live with this Wheeler decision, because he’s already living with another, even bigger one.

Thomson pulled Wheeler in Game 6 of the World Series in Houston with a 1-0 lead, after those 5⅓ innings and those 70 pitches, after a ground-ball single. Alvarado entered and gave up a homer and the lead. The Astros won the game and, with it, the championship.

It was a breathtaking example of analytics-induced audacity. It is something for which, in some corners of Philadelphia, Thomson may never be forgiven.

Thomson wasn’t the only Monday night goat. The Phillies left 11 men on base when they had the lead. Turner had two errors. Bryce Harper got doubled off first after he’d wildly rounded second base on a deep fly ball to center; he was out even after the Braves botched the relays.

In Thomson’s defense, Wheeler had been intoxicating.

He struck out six batters in the first two innings, a feat matched six times since 1973, but never with the qualifier of having given up no hits, either.

But Wheeler didn’t have much left by the end of the sixth. Everyone at every urinal and every sink knew it.

You know, there’s a phone in the bullpen.

Maybe they should put a phone in the bathroom, too.