There are bad nights in New York sports… and then there’s whatever the Mets just experienced Friday night at Citi Field.

The first game of the Subway Series felt like one of those old-school New York heavyweight fights. Yankees fans screaming like they just won the lottery, Mets fans entering the fifth stage of grief by the fourth inning, and somewhere in Queens a guy in a Pete Alonso jersey was stress-eating a chopped cheese while staring into the abyss.

And right in the middle of all of it was the Yankees’ newest baseball psychopath: Cam Schlittler.

This dude walked into Citi Field like he owned the parking lot.

Schlittler’s final line was disgusting: 6.2 innings, 2 hits, 1 earned run, 2 walks, 9 strikeouts, 106 pitches, 71 strikes. He improved to 6-1 and kept his ERA at a cartoonish 1.35.

At this point, hitters aren’t facing Cam Schlittler. They’re participating in a hostage negotiation.

The Mets looked completely overmatched most of the night. The only real damage came from Juan Soto hitting his 250th career homer in the seventh inning. Other than that? Schlittler was out there carving them up like a Thanksgiving turkey in front of Times Square tourists.

And this isn’t some random hot streak. This dude has been terrorizing baseball since Opening Day. Through his first 10 starts he now has 60 innings, 68 strikeouts, a 0.78 WHIP, and opponents are hitting just .168 against him.

Oh, and if you enjoy absurd baseball history, here you go: fans on Reddit pointed out that Schlittler became the first pitcher since Walter Johnson in 1913 to start a season with 50+ strikeouts, fewer than 10 walks, no more than one homer allowed, and an ERA under 1.50 through nine starts.

Walter Johnson.
1913.

So basically the last guy to do this was pitching against farmers who repaired train tracks between innings.

The scary part for the league? Schlittler somehow looks BETTER in big games. Subway Series debut? No problem. National spotlight? No problem. Loud crowd? He probably sleeps better hearing people boo him.

The Yankees needed this badly too. They came into this game struggling, having lost six of eight recently, but this felt like one of those “oh great, the Death Star is charging back up again” kind of wins.

Meanwhile the Mets… man.

The Mets are basically trying to hold together a roster with duct tape, prayer circles, and expired Walgreens receipts. Injuries everywhere. Offensive inconsistency. And then former Yankee Clay Holmes got drilled by a 111-mph comebacker and suffered a fractured fibula.

That was the moment the baseball gods looked down and said, “You know what? One more thing.”

The Yankees lineup smelled blood after that. Jazz Chisholm Jr. was electric, Ben Rice kept raking, and the Yankees did what the Yankees do when they sense weakness: they turn into sharks wearing Timberlands.

And that’s why this rivalry is still incredible.

The Subway Series isn’t just baseball. It’s New York therapy.

Every pitch feels personal. Every strikeout feels like a Twitter war. Every home run feels like somebody’s uncle is about to call WFAN screaming into a flip phone from a construction site in Staten Island.

Yankees fans spend the whole series acting like they own the city. Mets fans spend the whole series trying to remind everyone 1986 existed. It’s beautiful. It’s toxic. It’s New York.

Right now, though, these teams feel like they’re going in completely different directions.

The Yankees look like a dangerous October team again because their pitching is absurd. If Schlittler keeps pitching like this, alongside the rest of that rotation, good luck. Seriously. You’re basically trying to score runs against a group of human flamethrowers.

The Mets? They feel stuck in survival mode. Injuries are piling up, the lineup disappears for innings at a time, and they still haven’t figured out how to consistently support their pitching staff. There’s talent there, but right now they look like a team constantly trying to stop leaks in a sinking boat using paper towels.

But hey — that’s why we watch the Subway Series.

Because for one night, stats don’t matter, records don’t matter, and the entire city turns into a giant sports bar argument.

And on Friday night, Cam Schlittler walked into Queens, kicked the Mets’ offense directly into the East River, and took the first round for the Bronx.

Somewhere, a Yankees fan is currently yelling “CY YOUNG!” out of a moving Honda Civic.
And honestly?
They might not be wrong.