Mets head to NLCS after Francisco Lindor's grand slam beats Phillies in NLDS Game 4
For hours Wednesday night, another sold-out crowd at Citi Field stood, cheered, clapped and begged — usually enthusiastically, occasionally nervously — in anticipation of the inevitable.
They were ready to erupt because they knew what was coming. The Mets knew, too. And deep down, if they were willing to be honest, even the Phillies probably had an inkling.
Because for these Mets, the big hit always comes — or has, at least, for more than four months now, from surviving over the summer to thriving in autumn. And, although their clinching 4-1 win in Game 4 of the NL Division Series followed the script, this version was as spectacular as any.
Francisco Lindor’s go-ahead, pandemonium-inducing grand slam off Phillies closer Carlos Estevez in the sixth inning put the Mets on top for good, sending them to baseball’s final four with perhaps the biggest moment in the history of this ballpark.
The Mets are headed to the NL Championship Series, beginning Sunday against the winner of Padres/Dodgers.
“Our season could’ve gone a lot of different ways,” said Brandon Nimmo, moved to tears during the on-field celebration. “But he kept coming through every single time.”
Pete Alonso added: “My hands were in the air, just in awe. That was a swing of a lifetime.”
And hitting coach Jeremy Barnes: “It’s like he knew he was going to do it. He was so calm. He just hit a grand slam to put us in the NLCS and he was jogging the bases like it was in June. It’s a testament to: He’s a bad man.”
When Edwin Diaz struck out Kyle Schwarber in the ninth, recovering from another bout of game-threatening wildness to strand the potential tying run at the plate, he set off a celebration like Citi Field had never seen.
For the third time in 10 days, the Mets popped bottles of champagne, doused each other with beer and lit up cigars. But for the first time in 24 years, including the 16 years of Citi Field’s existence, they did all that at home.
Nimmo called it “everything I ever wanted when I got drafted” in 2011.
“When it’s never been done before, you always wonder what it’s like when it really happens. And it always seems a little out there. What would it be like to actually grab on and hold on?” Nimmo said.
“I thought back to 2015 [during the Mets’ run to the World Series] when I was sitting there watching. ‘Oh man, I’m right on the cusp and I’ll be a part of this and we’ll do this every year.’ And it’s 2024 now. I just won my first postseason series [last week] and now we won the NLDS here. You just realize how hard it is, how many things have to go right.
“To be the first to do it at Citi Field is a dream come true. All that emotion poured over me.”
And so the Mets relished this party more than the pair from last week.
In New York, there were additional front-office executives and other staffers present and able to participate, many of them long-timers who stuck it out through regime changes and all sorts of bad eras. Players’ families — wives and children, parents and siblings — hung around on the field, posing for pictures with each other and their uniformed loved ones. Carlos Mendoza spent time with his parents, Frank and Leyda, who flew up from Venezuela over the weekend.
“Without them, I wouldn’t be here,” Mendoza said of his family. “It’s a blessing. It’s hard to describe.”
And everybody lingered a little longer. There was no bus to schedule, no flight to catch. The Mets have three days off before opening the next round in California. They were home.
“Every time you celebrate, I’ve never said so many I love yous to that many guys,” Lindor said. “I’ve said to them the whole year, you know? I’ve probably said I think 26 I love yous so far. And there will be more throughout the night.”
Among the celebrants: many of the 44,103 fans whose jubilation pushed Citi Field to the point of trembling after Lindor’s blast. Across close to two hours after the last pitch, thousands and then hundreds and then dozens hung out in the sections behind the home dugout down the first-base side, continuing to stand and cheer and clap, witnessing a Queens triumph for the first time in a generation.
“I just couldn’t believe it. Such a storybook — not ending, but another part of it,” Nimmo said. “We’re going to soak it in and we’re going to enjoy this. This is going to be celebrated. But it is just the next step in the journey. We have no intention of settling here.”
Mendoza said: “Nobody had us anywhere close to this moment . . . What a story. I keep saying it. On to the next round.”
Tim Healey is the Mets beat writer for Newsday. Born on Long Island and raised in Connecticut, Tim has previously worked for the South Florida Sun Sentinel, the Boston Globe and MLB.com. He is also the author of “Hometown Hardball,” a book about minor league baseball in the northeast.
