JUPITER, FLORIDA - MARCH 09: Pete Alonso #20 of the New York Mets in action against the Miami Marlins during a Grapefruit League spring training game at Roger Dean Stadium on March 09, 2020 in Jupiter, Florida. (Photo by Michael Reaves/Getty Images)
Slugger Pete Alonso and manager Luis Rojas called cancer-stricken Mets super fan Kathleen Selig after her granddaughter’s appeal.
It proved not enough that New York Mets first baseman Pete Alonso and former Met infielder Gregg Jefferiesshoutedout to cancer-stricken, lifelong 82-year-old Met fan, Kathleen Selig. Ally Hengelin’s moving appeal for the Mets to reach to her grandmother prodded Alonzo and manager Luis Rojas to give the lady a video call Wednesday afternoon.
Mrs. Selig has been diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer and, two weeks after receiving that news, she was told by her doctors she has mere weeks to live. The coronavirus has delayed baseball season with no assurance that the lady will be here to see her Mets even one more time.
“The Mets have helped her through her loneliest of times,” Ally wrote as part of the tweet that started that particular ball rolling, “so much so that she has asked us to spread her ashes at Citi Field when the time comes.”
If they couldn’t play baseball one more time before Mrs. Selig goes to the Elysian Fields, and one and all hope her journey will not be compelled for a longer time than mere weeks, Alonzo and Rojas gave her the next best thing.
This is awesome. @Pete_Alonso20 and Luis Rojas made a surprise call to Kathleen, a life-long Mets fan who was recently diagnosed with cancer.
The lady lives in Rockaway Beach but has moved to stay with her granddaughter and her daughter, Elizabeth, in Sarasota Springs, Florida, during the coronavirus pandemic. Now, wearing a blue New York Mets sweatshirt, Mrs. Selig watched and listened to Alonso through unapologetic tears of joy, a tissue in hand.
“I just wanted to say that, for me, I wish baseball was going on right now,” Alonso began. “It’s tough without it going on.”
“I know,” Mrs. Selig wept.
“I hope this coronavirus thing passes very, very soon,” Alonso continued. “Life’s not the same without Mets baseball and we can get back to playing and everything is all good in the world when Mets baseball is back. I appreciate your lifelong support and as always, let’s go Mets.”
He flashed a large grin as he signed off. Mrs. Selig wept gratefully as she turned to face the camera recording her reaction. She spoke again through her tears, making it difficult to record precisely what she said in that moment. Then came another call.
“Oh, my God,” she said, clutching her telephone, as Rojas spoke on the other end.
“It’s my pleasure,” said Rojas, who calls her greatest among a lifetime of Met thrills the night she sat in a raucous Shea Stadium when relief ace Jesse Orosco struck out Boston Red Sox second baseman Marty Barrett to nail down Game Seven of the 1986 World Series.
“You have no idea what this is doing to me,” Mrs. Selig wept.
“We’re grateful for all the support,” Rojas replied. “We have so much support from our fan base, then we got the message and the tweet. We’re praying.”
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“You have no idea,” Mrs. Selig replied. “I love you. You have no idea, I love you guys. Thank you so much.” She moved the receiver to one side, unable to speak through crying for sheer joy.
“We’re touched to be in touch with fans like you and people like you,” said another Mets person whom I was unable to determine through the video view but could well have been Sam Katzap, the likely go-between between Ally and Alonso. “We think your granddaughter did a great job with the post, and it really touched all of us.”
“Thank you so much, I love you guys so much,” Mrs. Selig answered.
On Thursday morning, the calls made the back page of the New York Daily News. It showed Mrs. Selig clutching a large blue square item with the New York Mets skyline-baseball logo and a photograph of Alonso superimposed to the item’s right, with the headline blaring in what we ancients call 72-point type, LEAGUE OF HER OWN.
The granddaughter who instigated Mrs. Selig’s unexpected hour of joy inside her tears re-tweeted it, saying only, “THIS IS LITERALLY INSANE. OMG.”
It’s tempting to suggest from there that “literally insane” and Mets baseball have walked hand-in-hand more often than young lovers in Central Park, as any Met fan since the day they were born could tell you with absolutely no fear of contradiction.
“Yes, sir, theNewYorkMetsarereadytogointheirfirstgreatseason,” crooned Bob Murphy, one of the Mets’ original radio and television announcing team (with Lindsey Nelson and Hall of Fame former outfielder Ralph Kiner). That first great season proved that greatness has a dark side if you consider a 40-120 record the greatest exercise of the single-season calamity in baseball history.
Mrs. Selig from all known reports remembers that but prefers to think of the periodic highs. The 1969 miracle. The 1973 last-minute division triumph, pennant, and just missed winning the 1973 World Series in a seventh game. The 1986 threshing machine that got challenged arduously in the National League Championship Series (by a team of rather tenacious Houston Astros) and the World Series (by yet another team of tenacious but star-crossed Red Sox). The contenders of the early Aughts. The 2015 World Series team.
And, Alonso’s staggering rookie season last year. He’s not Mrs. Selig’s all-time favorite Met (that honor belongs to 1980s outfielder/speedster Mookie Wilson), but she could only say of Alonso, “I mean did you see what he did last year?!”
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Those 53 bombs, that Home Run Derby conquest, were nothing compared to the ones Alonso and his new manager hit out of the park Wednesday, when they called Mrs. Selig to brace her up while her beloved Mets are unable to play the game she’s loved watching them play for life.
