Dear Pete,

Can I call you Pete? I feel like I can call you Pete because you told New Yorkers to call you “Pete” rather than “Peter”. Cool. I’m all for that.

When the season began, all signs pointed to a potential postseason run. Going the distance after two absolutely abysmal losing seasons seemed to be the only true remedy for the horrors and heartbreak we endured.

All those worries about bringing you up early, and losing a year of team control, are now gone. The main reason, for myself personally, is that I’d rather have this season from you than a season of control in four years. That’s a hard fact.

Much of my Mets fandom has been spent getting razzed by Yankees fans, pretty much all day every day. The battle for New York City seemed one-sided and when Aaron Judge burst onto the scene in 2017, it seemed to be lost forever. With the 2015 World Series run/embarrassment in the rearview, and Connor Gillaspie’s Wild Card home run still in orbit, it felt like things couldn’t get worse for the Mets.

And then you came along.

The resurgence of youth you brought with you, bringing out the best in guys like Jeff McNeil, J.D. Davis, and Amed Rosario, is something we could have only dreamed of. If you look at the 2015 National League Champion lineup, that team was anchored by big bats, with the surrounding hitters benefiting from their heat.

You brought that back to Queens.

With the retirement of David Wright last year, and the uncertain return of slugger Yoenis Cespedes, the Mets needed a hero at the plate. When the Mets traded for Robinson Cano, it seemed like they were going out to get that veteran leadership, someone to take the wheel relinquished by the Wright.

Little did we know the leadership we so desperately needed, would come from Las Vegas rather than Seattle.

On the mound, we had a leader in Jacob deGrom, the last Met to win the Rookie of the Year Award, and the 2018 Cy Young winner. But there was always a tinge of guilt watching him get next to nothing in support from his teammates. There was apathy that emanated from the 2018 Mets in his starts, a palpable shrug you could feel from the stands.

We needed a hero, and we needed one with a loud, powerful bat. Thank God you came along.

So here we are, two games remaining. Normally after a season filled with high-highs and low-lows, we’d all be exhausted at this point. Not you, though. No way, you’re not done.

You’re one home run away from taking the rookie home run record from Aaron Judge, and 5 RBIs away from breaking the Mets single-season RBI record, held by Mike Piazza and The Captain. Those two names should be mentioned with yours for years to come.

Pete, from the bottom of my heart, I hope you spend these last two games swinging for the goddamn fence. I hope you can feel all of Queens behind you. We’re rooting for you, and we’re so thankful you’re here.

Thank you, Pete, for every single thing you’ve done for us this season. Here’s to many more.

And to that kid who looked at his poster every day, dreaming of playing in the majors. I want you to let him now that he’s there. He made it, and he kicked the goddamn door down.

Sincerely,

Every Mets fan.

UPDATE: PETE ALONSO HAS HIT 53 HOME RUNS. THE RECORD IS HIS. I’M NOT CRYING, YOU’RE CRYING.