It was quite a memorable night for Pete Alonso, along with the nearly 28,100 Mets fans in attendance.
But for the Mets, it felt like a real loss—a painful punch, particularly with the way the game unfolded.
In an atmosphere that was uniquely charged, Alonso hit his milestone 300th home run at Citi Field, earning the love of the fans. Ironically, they had just seen him contribute to their team’s defeat.
This significant home run tied the game and pushed it into extra innings. However, it was an inside-the-park home run by Coby Mayo in the 11th that really sealed the Mets’ fate, leading to a 7-5 loss.
After the game, the Mets seemed just as battered as A.J. Ewing, who collided with the wall while trying to catch Mayo’s hit. The game showcased some wild fluctuations in fan loyalty.
“I’ve never experienced anything quite like that,” remarked Sean Manaea, a close friend of Alonso, although he was clearly not a fan of the home crowd cheering for the opposing team.
In a game where the Mets were ahead 3-2 with one out in the ninth, Alonso launched a towering shot to left off Kodai Senga, marking history in a stadium that has seen many home runs—except for this one, where Alonso contributed to the rivals’ score.
Alonso’s swing wasn’t as noticeable as the fans’ reaction; he threw his bat towards the Orioles’ dugout and trotted around the bases to enthusiastic cheers.
The chants of “Pete Alonso” rang out until, incredibly, Alonso, in enemy territory and just having tied the game, took a curtain call from a fanbase desperate for something positive amid a frustrating season.
“Everyone in the dugout was saying, ‘Go out there,’ and they were right,” Alonso commented. “I really appreciate all the support from the fans, especially given all the time I’ve spent here. It’s a mutual relationship.”
This bond between fans and player makes sense to some extent. The sight of nearly the entire stadium cheering as a closer blows a save is quite a spectacle.
Senga added that while the crowd’s reaction didn’t bother him—after all, it was Alonso—he admitted that with any other player, he might have found it irritating.
Although Manaea didn’t fully agree with how the crowd treated an opposing player, he appreciated Alonso deeply. “I know we’ve underperformed this year,” he said, “but the guys here work hard day in and day out. It’s odd to see fans react that way toward someone from the other side.”
As Alonso walked off, cheer transitioned to boos directed at management, with a resounding chant of “Fire Stearns” echoing through the stands.
After both teams exchanged runs in the 10th inning, the Orioles, still in the chase for a wild-card spot, pulled ahead in the 11th. Mayo’s inside-the-park home run was a highlight as he dashed toward Ewing, crashing into the wall before bouncing back onto the field. Ewing seemed fine, but by the time he regained his footing, Mayo had completed his memorable run.
Mets fans, hoping for another dramatic moment from Alonso as they faced the last stretch of a disappointing season, certainly found excitement in that ninth-inning swing.
For the Mets—who seemed to be trailing in their own city, especially after hearing boos directed toward Jonah Tong for failing to serve up a home run—it’s hard to imagine the season concluding any worse.
“Pete’s not with us,” Manaea concluded. “The circumstances are what they are, but the fans clearly love him. He’s a great player, but he’s just not here anymore.”
“To see the fans react like that, I don’t know—it’s just very different.”
The contrast in the clubhouses was striking—cheers and heightened spirits among the Orioles contrasted sharply with the stunned Mets trying to comprehend their situation.
“It’s just wild,” Manaea repeatedly expressed, reflecting the surreal nature of the night.
