Livescore
MILWAUKEE — “I haven’t told anyone this yet,” Brandon Nimmo said, “but I lost my grandmother about an hour before the game.”
This was shortly after Pete Alonso’s home run snuck over the right field wall in the ninth inning of Game 3 of the Wild Card Series, scoring Nimmo and Francisco Lindor and sending the Miracle Mets to the next round.
An avalanche of Met moments followed. Jesse Winker, beaned and booed in his former home city in recent weeks, smashed a batting helmet into pieces after scoring an insurance run.
David Peterson closed out the Brewers in the bottom of the ninth, and rookie manager Carlos Mendoza ran from the dugout, emitted a guttural scream that traveled to the upper reaches of the stadium, and nearly ripped the jersey from his chest.
As the team jumped and danced on the infield, their wives, girlfriends, children and parents charged in one screaming, giddy cluster down the hallway toward the clubhouse. Lindor poked his head out of the room, full bottle of champagne in hand, and found his wife, Katia. They embraced.
Inside the room, Nimmo watched his teammates scream and spray.
“We knew it was a possibility,” he said of his grandmother’s passing. “She had gotten COVID, and her lungs weren’t doing well. She had pulled through, and then she was back to the ER yesterday, and she wasn’t doing well. About an hour or so before the game, I got the text.”
Nimmo’s parents had to rush out of the ballpark. He was left to refocus on the biggest game of his career to date.
“I just said, you know what? She and my grandpa watched every game,” Nimmo said. “I got to see them [recently]. I have pictures of us together and holding hands. I know she’s in a better place now. But it really just put things in perspective before the game, to be able to say that this stuff … ”
A loud roar arose a few feet away: Nimmo’s teammates were hollering even louder now. He gestured toward them.
“Right here, this stuff matters, the experiences, the moments like this, celebrating, this is what it’s all about,” he said. “The money, the accolades, no — this is what it’s all about. Moments with our [Mets] family.”
Nimmo spoke evenly, and said that he was largely at peace.
“[Her name was] Claudine Nimmo,” he said. “She was in her late 80s. She got to live a long and good life. By no means are we trying to make it out to be more sad than it is. It’s just her time. Nobody lives forever. But it did put things in perspective for me. And then to score four runs in the ninth– I know she would have loved it. She would have been cheering us on, and so happy. It’s just a huge roller coaster of emotions today.”
A pair of Mets staffers poured champagne on Nimmo’s head. A few feet away, owner Steve Cohen hugged Alonso.
“Pete, I’m so proud of you,” Cohen said.
Mendoza finished a television interview and laughed when reminded about his on-field roar. The manager was then asked if he knew about Nimmo’s grandmother.
“No, really?” he said.
Cohen didn’t know, either.
Alonso, standing on the infield a few minutes later, hugged his wife. Did he know what his longtime teammate had dealt with all night?
“No,” Alonso said. “He’s what, 31? To be able to have a grandparent in someone’s life. I lost … “
He trailed off, and then resumed.
“To have 31 years, that’s such a blessing. I feel awful for him. I’ve got to talk to him.”
Back in the locker room, John Ricco, a loyal and dignified front office staffer across many administrations, stood against a wall and watched the party. He said that when Lindor opened the ninth inning by drawing a walk against the Brewers’ all-star closer, Devin Williams, he thought about Kirk Gibson versus Dennis Eckersley in the 1988 World Series, and how anything can happen, even to the best relievers.
Ethan Wilson, a lifelong Mets fan and stalwart of the media relations department, seemed to choke back tears. Young player development staffers beamed with pride at the Jose Buttos and Luisangel Acunas. David Stearns, the new president of baseball operations, wore a broad smile and a damp shirt.
And there was Nimmo again, standing among teammates.
“You can’t take anything with you,” he said, “so it’s all about moments like this. This is my family, too, and I wanted to leave it all out there for them.”
He paused, drew a deep breath, and smiled.
“And for the game to end like this ….”
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