MILWAUKEE — Francisco Lindor is a great player.
Yeah, you might think it is obvious, but it just felt like the proper moment to reiterate it. Scream it, if you could. Get a darn skywriter in the air to punctuate it for all to see.
For much of Game 3, the Mets had Jose Quintana’s changeup and moxie and Lindor on both sides of the ball providing a mission statement to his genius. It is more than that when you have the serenity and temerity to do it all at this time of year.
The Mets went to the ninth inning with as much hope as a guy sinking in quicksand holding an anvil. Two runs down is not a mountain. But it felt like one with the Mets three outs from winter.
That they are going to Philadelphia instead for the Division Series speaks to a whole team. To an incredible fortitude. To Pete Alonso finally delivering a hit the Mets waited a whole season for and Edwin Diaz never giving the Brewers another run in the seventh — or the eighth. And David Peterson in the ninth.
But right there in Mets 4, Brewers 2, in Game 3 to win this Division Series, is a moment when you must believe something good can still happen in an impossible moment.
It takes a great player.
The Brewers were bringing in Devin Williams, who not only is on the short list of best closers on the planet but had only enhanced that Tuesday night in Game 2 with 10 pitches of such utter 1-2-3 dominance that it felt like the Mets were on a 90-second plan to get the game over.
So when Lindor led off the ninth, the need for a reason to believe was, well, everything. The Mets had two hits at that moment and — let me do that tally here — it was by Lindor leading off the game with a double and Lindor’s two-out single in the third. They had managed just one baserunner since via a Jesse Winkler hit by pitch.
American Family Field, swelled to nearly 42,000 yellow-towel-waving screamers, had been testing decibel levels since Jake Bauers and Sal Frelick had homered on consecutive Jose Butto pitches in the seventh. In those moments, it felt as if what nearly finished the Mets off in May would now in October: bullpen malfunction. First, Phil Maton in Game 2 and now Butto — Maton and Butto, who had been so vital in reviving the pen.
So, yeah, 2-0 felt bigger than 2-0. How about when the count went 1-2 on Lindor. This season when batters reached 1-2 against Williams, they followed by going 1-for-33 with one walk. No typos — 1-for-33 with one walk.
Lindor fouled off two full-count pitches and check-swing and held to draw a walk. There was a breath. More when Brandon Nimmo put runners on the corners with one out.
Then came Alonso. Since Sept. 19, the walk-year first baseman had not hit a homer, had just five singles and one RBI. Was he really going to roll into free agency without ever delivering a defining blow in what could be his final Mets season?
The great philosopher Reggie Jackson — who had a nickname with something about October — once said you can always change the story if you have a bat in your hand. Alonso changed the story. He took Williams to the opposite field for the biggest homer of his career, a three-run shot that put the Mets up.
Winker — Enemy No. 1 in these parts — was hit by yet another pitch. He stole second. And he scored on Starling Marte’s single. Peterson came on to finish.
But there has to be a start. It is Lindor having the best season of his career, perhaps the best positional season in franchise history. It is him homering in Game 161 to turn a loss into the playoffs.
It is every defensive piece of majesty — Lindor makes plays that don’t result in outs that flabbergast you because he has so much range and creativity.
And when there is seemingly no life left in the patient. When it is three outs to winter. When it is Devin Williams. When it is a road crowd at full roar.
Someone has to offer a reason to believe — if there is going to be more magic.
Lindor drew a walk. A door opened — a last opportunity perhaps as a Met for Alonso. But there are now going to be more opportunities.
Lindor walked and the Mets are not done running through October.