He doesn’t know because he can’t know, because he’s just 24 years old, because he’s played just 205 games in the major leagues, because he’s only had 695 plate appearances. Making the bigs is hard enough. Staying here is harder.
Flourishing here?
Sometimes, that takes a team effort. Michael Conforto was always going to be good enough, talented enough, to have a fighting chance because he has a left-handed swing that makes poets swoon, because he has a grinder’s mentality and work ethic that make coaches weak in the knees.
But Conforto has had the great good fortune of something else, too, something that’s fleeting and rare, especially in the carnivorous world of professional sports in New York.