As I rest my weary worker-day feet and soak in Pete Alonso’s grandest of (re)introductions to all of baseball nation, I can’t help but put the popcorn down having watched one of our own take top prize in this year’s Home Run Derby and pause during this 2019 All-Star break to reflect on one of the few bright spots in this melancholy season.

As an epic early round bout between Vlad & Joc gave us this century’s Ali/Frazier (ok, sort of), it was the perseverance and poise of Pete to withstand the rookie pressures and those nasty, nervous sliders to come out on top.  And is that ever a microcosm for Pete’s rise and start in Metsdom thusfar.

To list the litany of shortcomings authored by these 2019 Not-So-Amazins would be yet another encore of Been There, Done That theater. Rather it may be the right time to drink in what will likely be a kickoff campaign looked back on for the ages. Knock on wood.

The Numbers

While we all know the numbers, let us start by reciting them aloud to remind us they are real.

First, the obligatory slash line: .280/.372/1.006. It’s ok, you can say them out loud, no judgments here. The .280 BA has refreshingly trended north when so often small sample sized stats sink in descending fashion.

The 1.006 OPS has him swimming in Troutlike waters, in the rarefied company of the Yeliches and Bellingers of the world. We already know his power takes shape in the form of an all-fields, 30 HR start (again, you can say it out loud), one back in all of baseball. (Pause to pinch and recall he’s but a rookie)

Pete’s WAR of 4. 0 puts him third in the NL. His 68 RBIs have him tied for third, again not too shabby for a noob batting in the 2-hole. These are McGwire of ‘87 type numbers, those of the Judgian jurisdiction.

And we all know the ill-founded scouting reports of his lackluster defense have withered in the wake of Pete’s hard work. He’s good. He’s really, really good. And he’s ours, an actual homegrown position player the likes we haven’t seen since Straw. Knock on wood.

Beyond the Numbers

Perhaps what goes quietly unnoticed outside the area code Mets Hysteria is Pete’s persona. He’s composed of an intoxicating combination of naivete and ‘I know something you don’t know’. He’s got all the ingredients for a delectable humble pie.

Pete speaks genuinely of the game and his childlike thrill to simply be invited, like the first time we were picked by a captain in gym class. He slugs a mammoth blast and he talks of team. He breaks another record and praises his buddy Jeff or his competitor-turned-cheerleader Dom.

He handles New York. He handles the oft-brutal beat. He even tamed WFAN’s Mike Francesa during a June 12th interview, leaving Big Mike drooling for more. He’s what every fan, young and old, wants to see wearing their team’s jersey with pride. He just gets it. And he’s our guy. Knock on wood.

Beyond Expectations

For a guy who only recently elbowed his way onto our radars before into our hearts, the guy we once referred to as Peter is now a household hopeful. For a guy whom most executives would have buried down in the farm in April for eligibility purposes, he’s anything but a mere call-up.

Despite the 10 games under .500, it’s frightening to reflect on how many fewer wins would be in the books. Pete’s single handedly won games with his might. And he’s won us over with his heart. He’s filled a Cespedes sized cavity with even greater aplomb. I find it important, if even therapeutic at this point amid the tumult of ’19 to pause for Pete and embrace what we have, if even in a vacuum.

Pete’s our guy and he’s the right guy, knock on wood.

Coming soon… Mets Star Attractions (Part Two): Dirtbag Baseballer Of Yesteryear