So the Yanks aren't the only ones with tasty fruit from the farm system.
Mets fans had guarded hopes about Pete Alonso, their version of the next big thing. But too many times we heard about a player's potential, only to have them flameout or flame-on then flameout. Or to find out they're just not any good.
But after mining their minor-league soil for, well, forever, the Mets found Alonso, who may have arrived a few weeks ago but he planted his Bunyanesque flag last night. The Mets' new stud and first baseman destroyed a baseball so badly even the gatekeepers of baseball history took notice. Alonso bashed a home run that traveled an epic 454 feet and left the park at a dizzying 118.3 miles-per-hour, ninth-best since they've been recording such things.
And it happened in Atlanta, with all its ironies. Atlanta was the home of Chipper Jones, who shredded Shea Stadium so much that he named his son after the ballpark. Atlanta was the home of the team that had its mail forwarded to the NL East title. The Braves were the 15-year tormentor of the Mets.
Sure, the season is still in the first few weeks. But the 8-4 Mets are atop the deepest division in the sport. Rookie GM Brodie Van Wagenen told us his squad is the club to beat in the NL East. We found him fairly delusional, a former CAA star who had yet to realize he'd changed jobs from player agent Pollyanna to player-cutting Grim Reaper.
But there was something special, epic, mystical about that blast last night, a hit Gary Cohen called a "seed" as it landed in some murky water well beyond center field, somewhere in the shrubbery. The ball was crushed so hard it barely had an arc. The centerfielder barely chased it, stopping well before the warning track, turning into a fellow spectator, marveling at this NASA projectile.
So why get all geeked-up over a home run in April? It's not about the homer, really, but rather what it represents. It matters that he hit it. It matters that he leads the Mets with six homers. It matters that he's played all 12 games and also laps the team with 17 RBI, carries a robust .378 BA, and a bulging 1.362 OPS (he's also tied for second-place in the NL in home runs, second in RBI and tied for third in batting average). And it's not unprecedented to see a hot bat inspire a franchise. Yoenis Cespedes did exactly that in 2015. Daniel Murphy did it too, in the '15 playoffs. Even Shane Spencer helped the historically great Yankees in 1998 with 10 HR in September (in just 54 at-bats).
Van Wagenen has been going Ricky Roma all winter, trying to sell us the MLB iteration of superfluous condos in Scottsdale (without the acting genius of Al Pacino, of course). We weren't sure whether his maiden season was a hard sell or a Goodyear blimp of hot air.
We can't make that decision before Tax Day. But the Mets look legit, especially by their subterranean standards. With all of Van Wagenen's bombast and the new shiny toys he brought to Flushing, he knew another 77-85 season would have been wholly unacceptable. It would have made him look like a gilded-age import who came to the big city with big dreams and left with pennies in his pocket.
All success stories are littered with luck. The Mets, in particular, needed a dash of cinematic faerie dust to turn this baseball tanker around. And if the Mets become respectable, or even successful, we will remember Pete Alonso's advent, and the night he arrived.
Twitter: @JasonKeidel
