Last night, a kindly neighbor down the hall gifted me a lovely bottle of Chimay Grande Reserve Ale in exchange for a delightful baked honey-soy cod fillet dinner. It was the perfect nightcap for an even better Mets night-capper because we here in Gotham have got ourselves some FRENZIED WILD CARD FEVER! I did not, however, dump it all over my head like this reveling Yankees fan. More on him in a bit, because there was some excitement across the river, too.
In the top of the tenth against the Washington Nationals, Mets rookie shortstop T.J. Rivera took it upon himself to mash his first major league tater after the Mets coughed up the lead in the ninth.
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In the bottom half of the frame, reliever Jerry Blevins decided last night was the night to notch his first save of the season, striking out Daniel Murphy—hitting roughly .861 against his former squad this year—on a splendid 3-2 curveball to preserve the 4-3 victory.
The win, coupled with the Giants’ loss, moved the Mets within .5 of the top Wild Card spot and that coveted Citi Field playoff game. As the kid was in bed, I celebrated with a quiet fistpump and a civilized ceremonial finishing of the fancy Peres Trappistes Ale.
Meanwhile, in the Bronx, our ecstatic Yankees backer took the opposite approach. After a tight ballgame became less tight with back-to-back home runs in the seventh, our man snagged the 14th homer—and big insurance run—off the bat of rookie phenom Gary Sanchez in the eighth. Relief finally setting in, he went full Bluto.
No candy-ass swim goggles for this dude, he don’t got fucks to give. He’ll straight-up bathe in a $47 beer, so long as the Yankees win, which they did 3-0 to remain two back of Toronto and Baltimore in the wild card race, and four back of Boston whom they open a four-game set with tonight at Fenway.
Drink it, douse it, sump it, slam it. Whatever it takes. The ‘yoffs are coming.
