At first, I didn’t know why they called you “the Kid.” You appeared older than most of your teammates. But as I got to witness the effervescence of the second-half of your career, it became clear. I was hooked, and along for the ride. From your opening day game-winning debut home run, to your integral play in the Mets’ lone series title in my lifetime, to your labored push to home run #300, and all the way to your hall of fame election. Some called you arrogant, but the real drive was pride.
One last fist pump.