As the spring and early summer of 2021 rolled in, when the cherry blossoms stepped aside and the crepe myrtles bloomed, my children and I, over the course of April, May, and June afternoons and evenings, watched Jacob DeGrom pitch at a level nobody had ever seen before nor ever seen since.

In the three weeks following Memorial Day, DeGrom would strike out 43 batters, give up seven hits, walk only three, and surrender zero runs. One June night in the New York borough of Queens, DeGrom struck out the lead-off batter before Anthony Rizzo flied out to right on a 100 mph fastball. DeGrom then struck out the next seven batters and drove in a run before leaving, mysteriously, after three innings. It was perfection. Like DeGrom’s career with the New York Mets, it was splendid and incomplete, and it ended far too soon.