More than once this year, I’ve thought to myself that Pete Alonso would probably be more of a hitter if he were less of a teammate.
But Alonso isn’t capable of that. He cares about his teammates, about the only organization he’s ever known, and yes, about us lunatics in the stands. He wants to come through for all of us, so much that he puts too much on his shoulders. We’ve all seen the results: tentative ABs turning into overaggressive ones, or fly balls that are harmless because he tried to hit one to the moon when one three-millionth of that distance would have sufficed.
I’ve worried about that in the last few weeks, but I’ve also noticed some other things. I noticed that Alonso had become Francisco Lindor‘s best friend at first, scooping balls out of the dirt with Lindor’s compromised back affecting his throws. And I noticed that Alonso mostly wasn’t falling prey to those I ALONE CAN FIX IT ABs that ambush him from time to time. He was working good counts and refusing to fish for balls he couldn’t do anything with.
He wasn’t being rewarded with big hits, but I saw enough that I kept hoping.
And I hoped for something more: that maybe Alonso, in watching the heroics of Lindor and Jose Iglesias and Luisangel Acuna and so many other teammates, would internalize something he’s always known intellectually but never seemed to quite accept emotionally: that he is not in fact alone, that he is a critical piece but still part of a collective whole, that teammates will pick him up if he fails and trust him to do the same.
Sit with that a moment; we’ll come back to it.
Most of Thursday night’s winner-take-all showdown in Milwaukee was an agony of misfires. The Mets couldn’t scratch against Tobias Myers, whose four-seamer had the kind of movement that kept them just missing balls — I lost count of the number of balls that looked good off the bat only to die in outfielders’ gloves. Myers pitched five innings and all of two Mets reached base: Lindor doubled to lead off the game and later singled, and Milwaukee fan favorite Jesse Winker got hit with a pitch.
Fortunately, Jose Quintana equaled Myers. Quintana didn’t look great early, dealing with a lot of traffic, but as the game went on he saw that the Brewers were chasing more than they usually do, and so started tormenting them with changeups in the dirt and fastballs off the plate.
It was a gutty, canny performance, one I appreciated even more because Quintana’s 2024 taught me an important lesson: Don’t be so quick to write guys off. Back when things looked dire I disparaged Quintana (and some of his mound mates) as a feckless nibbler; when he went through a rough stretch in early August I would gladly have driven him to the airport myself if it meant we could be rid of him.
That wasn’t fair for any number of reasons, but two important ones are that I paid no heed to how much pride Quintana takes in his craft, or to how much work Jeremy Hefner and the Mets braintrust put into monitoring their pitchers, figuring out what’s working and what isn’t, and being patient as guys figure out adjustments. That’s been true of Quintana, of Sean Manaea, of David Peterson, of Tylor Megill, of Ryne Stanek — to say nothing of the nightly drama around Edwin Diaz, his mechanics and his psyche.
Quintana kept the Mets in it and handed the ball over to Jose Butto, who’s made strides as a pitcher but is still in the blurry space between roles: no longer a starter (at least for now) but not yet truly a reliever. Butto needs more time between appearances than a typical setup guy, and given the crazy rollercoaster ride of the last week more time hasn’t been available. He entered a scoreless game in the seventh and on two pitches put the Mets in a 2-0 hole: Jake Bauers clobbered a changeup sitting in the middle of the plate and Sal Frelick took a four-seamer over the fence.
Diaz got the Mets out of the inning without allowing anything else, though he didn’t exactly look crisp himself, and the Mets could do nothing against Freddy Peralta, pressed into service as a bridge to Devin Williams.
Had I given up when Williams took the mound? I hadn’t — partially out of stubbornness but also because this edition of the Mets had engineered crazier escapes. The key, I kept thinking to myself, was Lindor: He had to find a way to get on base. Fortunately, he was the player I trusted most to do it.
And after that? That’s where my belief got a lot shakier. But I knew Mark Vientos had power, and he’d seen his share of big moments. Hadn’t Brandon Nimmo hit a mammoth home run off Raisel Iglesias just a couple of Met fan heart attacks ago? And then there was Alonso, whom no ballpark can hold if he gets a hold of one.
I figured the most likely outcome was Lindor reaching first, or maybe second, and the season ending with a last shot of him disconsolate amid blue and yellow celebrants. But I also kept telling myself that wasn’t the only possible outcome.
Lindor’s leadoff AB against Williams a clinic from a player who knew exactly what had to be accomplished and was bending every ounce of his will to the task. Williams got to 1-2 using the formula that’s been so successful for him: that intimidating four-seam fastball up and that deadly changeup down, so a hitter has to be geared up to simultaneously cover the top and bottom of the strike zone and negotiate a 10 MPH difference in speed. Lindor refused to expand the strike zone, fighting back to 3-2, fought off a pair of four-seamers that had the plate, then looked at one outside for the walk.
That brought up Vientos, who had no chance against the four-seamer after being tantalized with a trio of changeups. (Hey, it happens — guys don’t roll to a 1.25 ERA by accident.) Williams tried the same program against Nimmo, but the third changeup got too much plate on 0-2 and Nimmo smacked it into right field for a single.
And so up came Pete.
The first pitch was a changeup down the middle, and it looked like Alonso’s knees sagged a bit. Don’t help him! I entreated the Polar Bear from 700-odd miles away. And Alonso didn’t — he spat on two four-seamers at the top of the zone as well as a changeup in on his hands. None of them was a pitch he could have done anything with — two pop-ups in waiting and a grounder. That was good; so was seeing Alonso have the kind of AB I’d kept noticing of late, albeit with little to show for it.
Maybe this time would be different. Ya gotta believe, right?
Don’t help him! I said again, unheard as always.
Williams threw another changeup, toward the outer edge of the plate but getting a fair bit of it, and Alonso connected.
This wasn’t one of those majestic shots pulled and headed for orbit. It was an opposite-field line drive. Did I think the ball was going out? Honestly, I was too disoriented and scared to be able to make a judgment like that. It was struck well and in flight, but Frelick was out there and I registered that the outfield fence had a little jog in it, and suddenly there were too many possibilities to catalog: into Frelick’s glove through a cruel quirk of the dimensions, over his glove and off the wall and what kind of jump did Lindor and Nimmo get …
… or, just maybe, over the fence.
Alonso made a chef’s kiss gesture and ran around the bases to be greeted by a conga line of happy Mets. Whatever Insurance It Is Field fell into a shocked hush; at the Citi Field watch party popcorn was flying and strangers were jumping and hugging; at the Playwright up in Midtown, the 7 Line was a screaming blizzard of orange and blue. And in a living room in Brooklyn Heights, I was jumping up and down like a maniac screaming and scaring the neighbors.
Here, for posterity, is Howie Rose’s call:
Here’s the pitch … swing and a fly ball to right field, pretty well hit. Frelick back, at the wall, he jumps — and it’s GONE! HE DID IT! HE DID IT! PETE ALONSO WITH THE MOST MEMORABLE HOME RUN OF HIS CAREER! PUMPS HIS FIST AS HE ROUNDS SECOND! IT’S A THREE-RUN HOMER! HE’S GIVEN THE METS A THREE TO TWO LEAD! THEY ALL POUR OUT OF THE DUGOUT! ALONSO ON HIS WAY TO HOME PLATE, THEY’RE WAITING FOR HIM! HE HITS THE PLATE, HE’S FIRST CONGRATULATED BY NIMMO! HUGGED BY LINDOR! THERE ARE A DOZEN METS WAITING FOR HIM OUTSIDE THE DUGOUT! PETE ALONSO KEEPS THIS FAIRY-TALE SEASON GOING WITH THE FAIRY-TALE SWING OF HIS CAREER! THREE TO TWO NEW YORK!
And then, almost immediately, I had a terrifying thought: Who’s going to close?
Fortunately, the Mets weren’t done. After Iglesias grounded out, Winker was hit by another pitch and then stole second, bad back and all. Williams went back to that pattern again against Starling Marte: three changeups, then a four-seamer. Marte spanked the four-seamer over first to bring in Winker, and that was it for Williams: He’d given up four runs, one more than he’d surrendered in the regular season. And an opposite-field homer? No one had ever hit one of those off Williams.
That extra run loomed large as Peterson (there’s your answer) immediately gave up a sharp single to Frelick. He struck out Joey Ortiz, but that brought up Brice Turang, the speed merchant who’s tortured the Mets for more than a week now.
So of course, because baseball is nothing if not utterly perverse, Turang smacked a grounder right at Lindor, hard enough that not even Turang’s terrifyingly fast wheels could deliver him to first before the ball thudded into Alonso’s mitt for the back end of a game-ending double play.
Amazin’, one might say. Or even Oh My God.
Everything goes by so fast. Blink your eyes and Alonso and Lindor will have become visiting dignitaries, interviewed during sleepy midsummer innings by some future Steve Gelbs. You’ll marvel at the fact that they’ve grown gray and try not to think about your own journey along that road.
But these days will be remembered. Twice in a week, the Mets have delivered games that you’ll see revisited during innumerable rain delays, ones that you’ll find yourself smiling to recall at odd moments years and years from now.
These are the games that transmute heartbreak into giddy triumph, that keep us coming back for all the nights enemy closers don’t crumble and opposing outfielders leap a little higher. When you get one of these, you cradle it and give thanks for it. Because these are the games that keep that stubborn little ember of belief burning, awaiting the joyous ignition that’s the reward of being a fan.
If there was ever a good match up for Pete it was a change up pitcher. He hasn’t hit breaking balls all year. He hasn’t hit fastballs for six weeks. But he saw two changes to get the timing before he finally had his moment for this season.
I never dreamed it would happen. Was 50-50 if we’d see a SO or a GIDP.
Quintana was great. Hit all the corners and the Brewers did something they didn’t last weekend – chase.
Hoping Peterson’s work can substitute for his bullpen and he can still take his start. But if not, so what.
We were dead. It wasn’t gonna happen twice in a week. Then it did.
beautiful encapsulation jason.
i had just said goodnight to my gf who was drifting off, telling her it *was* a great run but we’d come up against a better team. i was resigned to acceptance. i must have shouted OMFG a half-dozen times iin disbelief, after trying to will nimmo to just *tie* the damn game.
that peterson, one of our longest tenured, got to seal the deal after the breakout season *he’s* had was beautifully poetic, and much deserved.
giddy, up!
what a great recap Jason
As Lindor got on it occurred to me there was a high possibility of (in potentially his last at bat as a Met) him being the final out of the game. This filled me with dread. I’m very pleased this didn’t happen for inumerable reasons
As for the shouting and disturbing the neighbours in Brooklyn Heights, very much the same in Stourbridge West Midlands England! EXCEPT….it was 03:10 and so SILENT screams were the order of the day!
UK friendly times this weekend, hopefully we clinch at approximately the same time at Citi Field 1st game.
ELLLL GEEEE EMMMMMM
On June 30, 2000 we were watching the Mets get pounded by the braves. My husband can’t take it…. He is going to bed. I decided to stay up and watch, to see them storm back, capped off by piazza’s 3 run home run to seal the deal. Best come back I ever saw. To say that I never let my husband live it down for missing it is an understatement. Every Mets comeback conversation the last 24 years has included “Yeah, and you went to bed and missed Piazza’s homer against Atlanta!”….he hates this…
Last night was torture for him.
Ninth inning l say”how about we turn off the game and watch something else? Ya know, a comedy or something?”
He pauses, turns to me and says….no.
I see it in his eyes, that look, that says he WILL NOT miss it if he misses an epic Mets comeback again.
Well, he did not miss it this time.
And I will never be able to bring up the Piazza home run again, and I am really glad!
Now this is a great story. Fandom in a nutshell. Thank you!
The things that we remember about those moments. June 30 2000 I was in Times Square in my car about to go to a late dinner with my wife and some friends. I wouldn’t get out of the car until the comeback was complete. My companions all thought I was nuts :)
They were right but I still got to hear the comeback.
So happy for the Polar Bear. He has been one of the great Mets since setting the MLB single-season rookie HR record – and shattering the Mets single-season HR record – with 53. Greatest power threat we have ever had, home-grown or imported. In this underwhelming-for-him season he still led the team in HRs with 34. He’s been pressing for a big contract this year and it clearly affected him. He must return and become a life-long Met. Last night’s HR solidifies his place in Mets history. He could end up with 500+ HRs and a Hall-of-Fame induction. To paraphrase the Jackson 5, I want him back.
In the great Mets tradition, our ‘good-field’ ‘no-hit’ guy always comes through! Al Weis, Bud Harrelson, and Pete Alonso!
So happy for Pete, the big goof.
The best hitter the Mets have ever had.
And I really hope they sign him, Juan Soto be damned!
The hell with Soto!! I want to keep the Polar Bear!
The voice makes him tough to listen to, but John Jastremski made what I thought was a perceptive observation on SNY:
In a season in which a series of unexpected heroes have fashioned a magical Mets season, Alonso’s struggles managed to turn even him into one of those unexpected heroes.
~~~
I would love to have a couple of beers with Jesse Winker and get the whole story on what happened with him and the Brewers.
~~~
Everything goes by so fast. Blink your eyes and Alonso and Lindor will have become visiting dignitaries, interviewed during sleepy midsummer innings by some future Steve Gelbs. You’ll marvel at the fact that they’ve grown gray and try not to think about your own journey along that road.
But these days will be remembered. Twice in a week, the Mets have delivered games that you’ll see revisited during innumerable rain delays, ones that you’ll find yourself smiling to recall at odd moments years and years from now.
These are the games that transmute heartbreak into giddy triumph, that keep us coming back for all the nights enemy closers don’t crumble and opposing outfielders leap a little higher. When you get one of these, you cradle it and give thanks for it. Because these are the games that keep that stubborn little ember of belief burning, awaiting the joyous ignition that’s the reward of being a fan.
Jason, thank you, thank you. This passage, and many, many others like it, are why I come here every day.
#LFGM
Jason, that final paragraph made me realize, again, why it’s great to be a Mets fan. Because while they may break your heart occasionally, they are what real life is. They break your heart, you recover and go on. That’s life, and that’s what being a Mets fan signifies to me. Thank you!
Check out Jomboy. He showed a great video that Williams was pretty clearly tipping his pitches. Doesn’t take away from the Mets executing and getting it done when it mattered though.
Here for folks who want a peek:
https://x.com/JomboyMedia/status/1842188924690850171
Good stuff!
BRILLIANT!
For post game entertainment I watched Frelick’s and Alonso’s Home Runs back to back. It proved to me something I had been suspecting for the past three days. The ESPN MoMos (in my family term of derison) definately showed more exitement for Frelick’s.
yup. and on the radio feed they quickly moved onto thursday night football’s walk-off…treating it with post-season gravitas.
at least they weren’t interviewing the brewer’s equipment manager while pete was fighting to keep the season going!
Redemption.
Don’t worry, Jason, WE heard you!
Lindor has been noodle-arming it to Alonso all year, keeping Pete prepared for just about anything they could throw at him.
So, in effect, Lindor has actually made Pete the great fielder that he is!
You perfectly summarized the emotions of all Mets fans, Jason. I’m ashamed to say I was terrified that Pete’s last at bat would be hitting into a double play. And I had to go back and listen to Howie’s call — it was a classic. Pure emotion.
I can’t help feeling sorry for the Brews and their fans, but consider: the Mets should have won and clinched the night before. But winning game 1 put them in the driver’s seat — so they richly deserved to win.
And by the way, Tuesday morning after Monday’s heroics I typed the following into a group chat at my office:
Watch enough baseball and you’ll see something that you’ve never seen before.
I don’t know who coined that phrase but it worked twice this week.
Just heard Senga is starting Game One.
Mendy will probably let him go 10 innings before maybe taking him out.
There are, apparently, no rules for this team.
Those last three paragraphs should be framed. They are classic.
I’d love to read Greg’s take on last night as well. You guys have such complementary styles (like Howie and Gary!) and you’re both worthy of the Great One, Roger Angell.
I woke up this morning and had to ask my husband if that really did happen, and he confirmed it. He ‘s relatively new to the Mets, and Alonso is a big reason why. He used to play and coach hockey, and Pete’s style is kind of like a big lumbering defenseman, his position. And Pete doesn’t pull punches, either. His heart is always on his sleeve.
My wants an Alonso jersey, and it’s on my list for him, but the Mets need to sign Pete first. Speaking of signing Pete, when Gelbs was interviewing Steve Cohen and asked him what he was thinking when Pete rounded the bases, did anybody else think, as both of us did, that what he must have been thinking was, “This is going to cost me a fortune!” :)
Well anyway, that’s for November and December. Happy New Year to those who celebrate, and may we be inscribed in the Book of Championships.
That’s kind of sneaky. You’re supposed to announce your starter. But nobody has to say who the relievers are.
Megill or Peterson? Righty or lefty?
Though I don’t know how much the Phillies use L/R platoons
wow!
on mets.com preview page
Check out the postgame celebration. It looks like Pete downed a whole bottle of champagne in one gulp. Sure hope they recover by tomorrow — there’s work to be done!