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There was a time when Craig Kimbrel entered a baseball game and opposing hitters immediately started thinking about their families. They wondered if they had said I love you enough. They wondered if this was how it ended. That Craig Kimbrel was a menace. A right armed horror movie with a bent over stance, a fastball that hissed, and a breaking ball that vanished like socks in a dryer. He piled up saves the way the Mets used to pile up injuries. Four hundred and forty of them.

Losing Edwin Díaz hurts. It hurts emotionally, spiritually, musically, and in that little spot right behind your left rib that starts throbbing every time the Mets lose a late-inning lead. And look, this is personal too, because I genuinely love Edwin. He was always accessible. He was a stand up guy. He never once ducked a camera, a microphone, or a tough question after a meltdown inning. In New York, that matters. In New York, that is gold. And on a personal note, celebratin