On June 12, 2024, the most beautiful purple monster himself, Grimace, waddled onto Citi Field’s mound to toss the ceremonial first pitch for his birthday. What followed? Pure, unadulterated chaos that turned a sub .500 team into a playoff juggernaut. This ain’t just a baseball story; it’s a love letter to the unhinged magic of Mets fandom.
Let’s set the scene. The Mets were 28-37, limping through a season that had fans muttering about 2026. Enter Grimace, that lovable, milkshake-slurping monster who looks like he got lost on the way to McDonaldland. His pitch? A loopy, off-target lob that screamed “I’m here for the vibes.” Nobody expected it to spark anything, but then the Mets dropped a 10-4 beatdown on the Marlins that night. Cool, a win. But then they won again. And again. Seven straight dubs, including a sweep of the Padres—something they hadn’t done in 18 years. Social media exploded. X posts were calling it the “Grimace Effect,” with fans losing their minds over this purple deity. One user,
The numbers don’t lie. Post-Grimace, the Mets hit .300 as a team, smashed 32 homers, and boasted a .704 winning percentage—the best in the NL. Their slugging (.491) and on-base (.340) stats were straight-up video game numbers. Pitching? Locked in, with a .231 batting average against and nine saves in 30 days. But this wasn’t just about stats. It was about vibes. Grimace brought the fun back to Flushing. Brandon Nimmo was out here grinning, saying, “We grew up with this being a kid’s game. I’m all for adding Grimace to this.” Pete Alonso rocked Grimace-themed cleats and straight-up declared, “Grimace got us hot.” The clubhouse was buzzing, and Citi Field turned into a purple party.
Mets fans, the most gloriously deranged bunch in sports, leaned in hard. Grimace costumes popped up in the stands. Signs proclaimed “Grimace Mets” and “Year of the Grimace.” McDonald’s changed their Twitter profile to Grimace in a Mets hat, and the Mets’ social team posted a graphic celebrating the “Grimace Era” like it was a World Series run. By September, the Mets immortalized the big guy with a purple seat in Section 302, Row 6, Seat 12—Grimace’s birthday coordinates. Hell, they even slapped Grimace decals on the 7 train for the NLDS, as he boarded a subway car like a rock star.
The Mets just kept rolling, finishing 63-38 since Grimace’s pitch, clinching a wild-card spot, and storming into the playoffs. They took down the Phillies in the NLDS, with Grimace’s purple aura haunting Philly fans who were screaming “Bring me Grimace!” like they wanted to sacrifice him. By the NLCS, tied 1-1 against the Dodgers, the Mets were the talk of baseball—not just for their play, but for the sheer absurdity of their purple mascot saga.
So, happy birthday, Grimace, you beautiful, wobbly, purple monster. You didn’t just throw a pitch; you threw the Mets into a purple-fueled frenzy that’s still got us believing we can win any game.
Thank you Grimace for one of the best years of my life.
A Fan With A Mic 