Goosebumps. Everywhere. Even in places I don't think I should be getting goosebumps. If that's how I felt at home, I couldn't imagine what it was like at the game (I wouldn't have been recording on my phone like roughly half the ballpark either).
Of course that came with a couple of stomach pains since every person on the planet was expecting tragedy to befall the Mets after unleashing a spectacle like that for a closer against the heart of the lineup of a team that could set the record for regular season wins because they are, well, the Mets.
But like I keep telling you guys, this team is different from top to bottom as Brandon Nimmo will tell you after his RIDICULOUS catch.
However the star of the night wasn't Brandon Nimmo or even Jacob deGrom, who casually put up roughly the one millionth absolutely dominant start of his career.
It was the closer who keeps dusting the best hitters in baseball and is slowly starting to allow the most paranoid fanbase no longer piss, shit, and cry down their leg every time the 9th inning arrives thanks to a slider from hell and a song from heaven. I can't believe this moment we talked about two years ago actually happened in real life.
Now buy a goddamn shirt of my close personal friend that has blessed us with the gift of no longer fearing the end of games.