Chris Sobel flew 2,400 miles to say goodbye to The Captain.

“Being able to watch David Wright take the field one last time is something I would not want to miss for the world,” an emotional Sobel, 49, told The Post hours before getting on a plane in Arizona.

It wasn’t Wright’s on-field heroics – 7-time All-Star; 2-time Gold Glover; 242 home runs – that inspired Sobel to score a golden ticket to the Met’s last game.

It was an act of kindness.

Sobel and his son, Sean, 13, who had a severe form of muscular dystrophy, took in a Mets-Diamondbacks game at Chase Field in Phoenix on June 11, 2006, when the unexpected happened.

They were seated in the wheelchair section next to the visitors’ on-deck circle. During his first time up, Wright — who would go 1 for 5 that day — broke his bat.

Prior to his next turn up, the third-baseman emerged from the dugout with a new piece of lumber — but also carrying the cracked Rawlings Adirondack Big Stick, now autographed.

“He just reached over the railing and handed the bat down to my son,” Sobel recalled. “My son couldn’t grab it, so I grabbed it from him and put it on his lap. We were both speechless.”

Sobel, a crazy Mets fan who was born in Queens, bred on Long Island and named one of his two daughters Shea, confessed he was more of a Pedro Martinez and Carlos Beltran guy during that 97-65 playoff season.

“The minute David gave us the bat, he became our favorite Met,” Sobel laughed.

The following year, Sobel, a behavioral therapist living in Prescott, Ariz. for decades, and his son were in the same section when the Mets came to town. To their surprise, Wright walked over to the stands during warm-ups and asked Sean, “Hey, you still have my bat?”

Before the teen could answer, Wright looked at the dad and kidded, “You didn’t sell it, did you?”

Father and son replied in unison, “We still have it!”

Every year after that, the Sobels would make sure to be at Chase Field when the Mets came to town. And every year Wright, if he was with the team and not on the disabled list, would seek them out to say hello.

He’d say “How’s it going?” or ask Sean about school, the dad remembered.

On Dec. 8, 2010, 17-year-old Sean succumbed to complications from Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a degenerative disease that he battled much of his brief life.

When the Mets came to town in 2011, Wright, like clockwork, searched for the Sobels in the stands.

“David mouthed, ‘Where’s your son?’ I made a face and he walked over and said, ‘Man, I’m really sorry. I remember seeing you guys every year. True fans,’” the dad recalled.

When Wright announced Sept. 13 that his illustrious but bittersweet career would come to a close Saturday, Sobel knew he had to say goodbye to Sean’s favorite player. He called the 7 Line Army livestream “Orange And Blue Thing” program and shared his David Wright story.

The 7 Line founder Darren Meenan was so moved that he told Sobel if he could make it to Citi Field, he had himself a ticket.

“I’ll no doubt have tears in my eyes,” he said before his flight. “I’ll be thinking about Sean and that day with David Wright. … He gave me the most enjoyable moment I ever had with my son.”