Mets turn Atlanta House of Horrors into Fun House to claim NL wild-card berth

ATLANTA

The Mets celebrating on the field at Truist Park. Just let that sink in for a moment.

Spraying champagne amid this cursed patch of Georgia turf. Their cigars fumigating the ghosts in every corner of the visitors’ clubhouse, the site of so much disappointment and regret.

All those decades of despair washed away, because the 2024 Mets refused to allow it to happen again.

Oh, this wasn’t easy. Conquering your demons, at the franchise level, takes a village. And the Mets earned every inch of Monday’s wild card berth-clinching 8-7 victory over Atlanta in Game 1 of the doubleheader, with Francisco Lindor’s go-ahead two-run homer in the ninth finally taking a sledgehammer to the team’s wretched history against its bitter NL East rival.

Lindor supplied the knockout blow, but Brandon Nimmo’s stirring, tongue-wagging two-run homer capped a six-run eighth that turned a 3-0 deficit into a 6-3 edge. Edwin Diaz, rewarding his rookie manager’s faith, somehow held on to deliver a 40-pitch (!!!) outing after blowing that lead.

And the Mets accomplished their playoff goal in Game No. 161, in Atlanta, of all places.

“It was important for us to do this here,” said president of baseball operations David Stearns, his dress shirt soaked through by clubhouse spray. “Look, this has been a miserable place for the Mets. I grew up a Mets fan in the ’90s. We still got a lot of work to do here, but for us to do this here was important, and I’m glad we did.”

Stearns was referring more to the old Turner Field, which still stands downtown, but the sentiment certainly applies.

So many snapshots from the ledge, but it was Lindor — who else? — who helped carry his Mets across the finish line (on a sore back) by launching the deciding volley of a final two-inning stretch in which the teams totaled 12 runs, with the lead changing hands three times. After Diaz spit up a 6-3 lead in the eighth (more on that later), Lindor rode to the rescue.

The Mets have earned expert status in the spectacular turnaround this year, rallying from an 0-5 start to the season, then 11 games under .500 in early June to post the sport’s best record over the next four months. And yet they remained in a virtual three-way tie for one of the last wild-card spots on the final weekend, backs against the wall as they tumbled into Truist Park.

So why should Monday have been any different? How could we be surprised that they picked the day after the regular season ended — for everyone else — to author their comeback masterpiece?

“It’s been an uphill fight,” Lindor said. “We put ourselves in a big hole and we kept climbing. We kept our shoulders above water . . . and never believed that we were drowning. I’ve said it since Day One — I believe we have the team to do special things.”

What the Mets did all season long was special. Monday’s win took that to another level. But whenever the Mets embark on a business trip to Atlanta, it historically takes a turn to the Twilight Zone. The images of the Mets’ wild post-Nimmo celebration, the fist-pumping, the high-fiving, the maniacal screaming, still were fresh in their collective minds when Diaz promptly went to work with the mental eraser.

The trigger? Diaz later admitted that the simple negligence of him failing to cover first base on Pete Alonso’s dazzling diving stop of Jarred Kelenic’s grounder behind the bag kicked him into an emotional tailspin.

Talk about your ex-Mets goblins. Kelenic was part of the trade package for Diaz.

A four-pitch walk to Michael Harris II then set up a bases-clearing missile of a double by Ozzie Albies, who earlier hit a two-run homer.

It was a movie we’d seen many times before: Mets closer melts down on season’s biggest stage. But Lindor broke from the script, and his ninth-inning Superman show not only lifted the Mets again but inspired Diaz.

“I’m going back out, no matter what,” he told Carlos Mendoza. “I don’t care what you say. Trust in me. I got this [expletive].”

Incredibly, Mendoza did. It was ride-or-die with Diaz, and you don’t get to be the 2024 Mets — to “keep climbing,” as Lindor said — unless you get over the fear of falling first.

“To be able to do this here, and overcome the way that we did, it’s beautiful,” Nimmo said. “It’s such a sweet feeling.”

And it turned Truist Park into a Mets backyard rager. Diaz spiked his glove as his teammates flooded the field. The champagne flowed later, after the doubleheader was over, but the party would stretch all the way to Milwaukee, where the Mets will play Game 1 of the Wild Card Series against the Brewers.

However this playoff run turns out, these Mets will never forget how they got to October.

“That’s one of the craziest games I’ve ever been a part of,” said Mendoza, his hair slicked back with champagne. “It was unbelievable. You could write a book. And here we are, man. You just have to embrace it and just keep going.”

With the Atlanta demons now in the rearview mirror.

By David Lennon

dave.lennon@newsday.comDPLennon

David Lennon is an award-winning columnist, a voter for baseball's Hall of Fame and has covered six no-hitters, including two perfect games.