Pete Alonso [1] has set a home run record. It seems we should have our keyboards set up to generate that sentence with one click.
The record in this instance is the major league mark for most home runs in a season by a rookie. Pete has 53. Second is every other rookie ever. Pete’s 53rd came in the third inning of Saturday night’s game at Citi Field, off Braves starter Mike Foltynewicz. It traveled far, deep and doubtless as it soared into history.
We should have a single keystroke to take care of that sentence, too.
Pete was awed by what he’d done. We all were and presumably still are. We’re Mets fans. We’ve been waiting our franchise’s entire lifetime for a Met like this. This is a Met unlike any other…or have you previously seen a Met introduce himself to us in March and proceed to hit 53 home runs for us before September ends? Pete is 161 games removed from the gate and he just keeps galloping. What fun it has been to have accompanied him on a romp that, careerwise, is only just starting. May his and our ride together [2] continue at a brisk pace for seasons to come.
This season, however, concludes with just one more matinee, hopefully one that extends the Mets’ recent winning ways en route to its put-tage in the books. Their latest triumph was a 3-0 stifling of the Braves [3], executed via a combined four-hitter from Steven Matz [4], Jeurys Familia [5], Brad Brach [6] and — with his first save since the Mets’ 121st game — Edwin Diaz [7]. The sterling pitching was bolstered by a two-run homer from René Rivera, plus that Alonso dinger, for which nobody was on base, unless you count all of us being with Pete in spirit every step of the way.
With the victory, the late-reblooming Mets hiked their record to a season-high nine above .500, making it 85-76, translating to a winning percentage of .528. Depending on how you view things, their going out on a high note either burnishes our 2020 anticipation with fresh evidence of genuine promise, or we’re entitled to wonder out loud, “Where the hell was this beating Atlanta at home when it could have done us some good?”
More the former than the latter, I’m willing to believe. I’m in too good a mood from Pete’s 53rd to measure my Met tumbler as anything less than 52.8% full. Say, if you round up our winning percentage, it equals 53. Kismet! Hell, kiss every Met! I’m pretty giddy for a fan of a club that was mathematically eliminated the other night. Amazin’ what a 53-homer-hitting rookie will do for your attitude.
Alas, now that the Mets are suddenly a cure for the common baseball team, Closing Day is upon us. I’ll be haunting ye olde yard one last time this year and decade, as is my custom every year and decade. If you see me around, be sure to say hi and high-five. Unless Pete is batting. Then please wait so we can determine if something more effusive than a hi and high-five is in order.