God dammit I love Pete Alonso. Dude can hit laserbeams out of the park with an exit velo of 150, drop bombs that scrape clouds on their way to the upper deck, and even hit late jacks on demand to open the velvet ropes and allow complete strangers to enter the Overs Club in what has to be an all-time great betting feeling. What a fucking machine.
I know the people of Philadelphia aren't exactly known for being the most hospitable to visiting players, but I hope Alonso got a standing ovation from that dude for helping him cash in his bet that was responsibly placed on the Barstool Sportsbook app. Or at least the guy didn't jam his own finger down his throat and try to puke on Pete's family if they were at the game, which is about as nice a courtesy as you can expect from the City of Brotherly Love.
I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised though considering I told everyone this morning that the Mets were scoring 8 runs in Philly tonight and that Pete would go yard (I thought it would be an 8-3 score but the Familiacoaster decided to allow in one more run because trying to predict what the Familiacoaster will do is the epitome of a fool's errand).
1 down, 95 to go for us #96ers walking the Road To 96 and if the first two games as well as the rest of my life has taught me anything, it's that the bullpen is going to make us earn every single second of those 96. Even our trolling billionaire owner gets it.
Now will someone let us know if Keith's door was able to get fixed and Hadji got fed?