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A warm New York evening that had a gentle breeze, two first-place teams playing and all the perks of the summer without the trappings of the worst of the heat made for a beautiful night for hate.
The first “F–k Juan Soto” chants arrived at 6:51 p.m., when the Mets slugger ran out from the dugout to begin pregame stretching.
The last — in the Stadium, at least — rang out at 10:08 p.m., when Soto’s lazy fly ball settled in Trent Grisham’s glove to finish off a 6-2 Yankees victory.
In the three hours and 17 minutes between those poles, the same Bronx fans who begged for Soto to stay were desperate to make him pay for leaving.
