Mets 7, Phillies 2. A proper home opener trouncing by the deGrominator, a.k.a. Jacob deGrom, the third of four aces to start the season. Young (they’re all young) Steven Matz is the last, followed by the elder “Big Sexy” Bartolo Colon to round out the rotation, no pun intended.
I guess I’m starting the season with a poetic conjecture of the Mets starting pitching rotation. Here’s one for Jacob deGrom, probably my favorite of the Mets’ aces for his calm-under-pressure demeanor. When he’s up on the mound, the deGrominator is in one business only.
Strikeouts.
The deGrominator
It’s all in the hair, those brown curly locks
that flutter and whip in the breeze
during each pitch. The t-shirts with the silhouette
of his mane, the reporters asking when
he’ll cut it and he says never. At least not
for now, not while we’re winning.
Thirteen strikeouts later, we’re 1-0
in the division series, a feat only Tom Seaver did
in a postseason game. Eight games later
and this kid is smoking a cigar
while sporting a champagne-soaked t-shirt
on the steps of the dugout in Wrigley Field,
ski goggles on his head, the crowd behind him
chants Thank You Mets! And in the following
spring, after getting hosed in the World Series
the top brass doesn’t want to pay the kid
what he deserves. He refuses to sign,
remembers the champagne and cigars,
asks for the clean million he’s owed
for hurling burners across the plate
that most men alive can’t hit.
