KNIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD

HARVEY HAMMERED AS BRAVES ROLL METS

SANDY Alderson stated he could not “strap [Noah Syndergaard] down and throw him in the [MRI] tube.” But, yes, he probably could have. Regulation 2 of the standard player contract, which governs every player in the majors, includes: “The Player, when requested by the Club, must submit to a complete physical examination at the expense of the Club, and if necessary to treatment by a regular physician or dentist in good standing. Upon refusal of the Player to submit to a complete medical or dental examination, the Club may consider such refusal a violation of this regulation and may take such action as it deems advisable under Rule 5 of this contract.”

Rule 5 states the team may impose a “reasonable fine” and/or “suspend the Player without salary” for up to 30 days.

Teams have interpreted the language in Regulation 2 to mean if a player reveals symptoms of an injury, they can order an MRI exam and the player must take the test. Syndergaard could have argued the language is murky enough about how often he should have to submit to testing.

But this was hardly a random request. Syndergaard was scratched from his start Thursday due to right shoulder/biceps tendinitis. Plus, Syndergaard himself said he could not even “lift my arm above my shoulder” last Wednesday.

That would suggest the Mets had every right, using Regulation 2, to force Syndergaard to do the imaging test that was scheduled for Friday and fine and/or suspend him if he refused. Instead, the Mets heeded to their ace’s insistence for no test. He claimed he felt great after a Friday bullpen session and the doctors were saying it would be nice to have the test, but it was not mandatory despite all the red flags.

So Syndergaard was allowed to start Sunday. He lasted four outs against the Nationals, incurring a torn lat that could keep him out months.

Alderson said team doctors told him the shoulder ailment did not trigger the lat tear, but that is probably unknowable.

That the Mets were not tougher on Syndergaard feels akin to the Giants not seeking a grievance against their ace, Madison Bumgarner, for spraining the AC joint in his pitching shoulder in a dirt bike accident and being lost for three months — the team did not want to fight against an important, popular player. The Mets wanted to trust Syndergaard’s words that he was fine at an early moment of crisis, throwing away the caution they insisted they would deploy with their starters this year.

But the Mets must think bigger picture here, and Syndergaard really should be doing the same. He has gone for fame, putting himself out on social media and appearing in TV shows and fake feuding with Mr. Met. He wants to brag about adding 17 pounds of muscle to throw harder, when the Met scales say he gained nothing of the sort.

Such behavior will elicit a different level of scrutiny, fair or not. Syndergaard might ask Matt Harvey about it. And since the Mets know what a pain it has been with Harvey — and in a different era with Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry — they should consider a more proactive stance in being the adult in the relationship with Syndergaard, still just 24. At times that means forcing him to obey their wishes.

It also means not letting him publicly harangue a team official. Upset that reporters approached him following Thursday’s game to see if there was any medical update, Syndergaard twice berated media relations director Jay Horwitz. In a phone conversation Tuesday, Horwitz said: “It was completely blown out of proportion. He didn’t understand why he had to do a separate press conference after the game when he didn’t know anything new. He didn’t curse me. He wasn’t rude to me.”

But eyewitnesses offer a different account, including The Post’s Mike Puma, who said Syndergaard “chewed out” Horwitz in plain sight and “was definitely disrespectful.”

Syndergaard used Facebook to offer his first public statement Monday night since his injury. He wrote about loving the Mets and coming back better, etc. But offered nothing in the way of apology to Horwitz. Nor has the organization insisted Syndergaard deliver one to a 71-year-old man who has dedicated the past 38 years to the Mets, often protecting players when they deserved far less.

At 6-foot-6, Syndergaard is not being a big man here, and the Mets are not distinguishing themselves, either.

The Mets insist they are drilling down trying to figure out why they keep getting crippled by injuries year after year. They might want to look into the self-inflicted type, as well.