MLB

Dirty Laundry

MLB, , , , , , , , , , , , , View all 3 comments

A little bit of loyalty goes a long way...for fans AND players.

I was 13 years old when I first had my heart broken.  True story.  My dad called me after school one day and said, there’s a rumor the Rangers might trade Tony Granato.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT?????  I had to calm myself down and take a walk around my suburban neighborhood.  I had become a Ranger fan for good earlier that year (1989), when my dad took me to see some dude named Mario Lemieux play for the Pittsburgh Penguins against the New York Rangers, where another dude named Brian Leetch scored a shorthanded goal.  Hard to believe I was sitting in an arena with future hockey hall of famers, yet when I was thumbing through the program I saw two pictures that made my heart soar as a teeny-bopper 13 year old: Tony Granato and John Vanbiesbrouck.  Granato was also another rookie who came up along with Brian Leetch — defenseman of the future — and Beezer was a fan fave.

But to trade *my* favorite player and the hottest guy on the team?  Heart wrenching.  I could only imagine what my mom might have gone through when the Beatles broke up, as a girl of 14.

Yet, it prepared me.  Granato was traded, and the Rangers ended up winning the Cup a few years later on the back of hard workers like Mark Messier, Mike Richter, Adam Graves and Brian Leetch.  Leetch, who should have been a Ranger-lifer, was traded in the last few years of his career, but still came back to hoist his number to the rafters.

Cutting ties with Beezer was easier to take when it happened (especially since I loved Mike Richter). When my crush Gregg Jefferies was traded for Bret Saberhagen, my dad called me to break the news.  Expecting a shriek, I said, “Well, it’s Saberhagen.  He’s good.”  My objectivity kept me grounded.  And I learned to not get attached to certain players.

And that my friends, is our lesson of the day: you root for the name on the front of the jersey, not on the back.

Gone are the days, as Frank at NY Fan in South Jersey, of the Cal Ripkens and Tony Gwynns of the world: baseball greats who are synonymous with the teams for which they played.  I don’t count the Yankees’ “core” of Jorge Posada, Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera because they overpay for the first two and Mo is a freak of nature.  Pretty much, we have the Houston Astros, whose Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell (to a lesser extent Lance Berkman) who are all over the leaderboards for the team but were also there for a generation, and Atlanta Braves’ Larry Jones.  Don’t give me the “Big Three” as an example: Tom Glavine left for the hated Mets (to them, not to me, of course) at one point and Greg Maddux, hypocrite who wanted to stay with the Cubs but opted for money, fame and championship caliber baseball in Atlanta.  Not like I can blame him.  I’m sure many of us would do the same thing.

The concept of the “hometown discount” is dead.  I would say you heard it here first, though many on Twitter said so today and even our very own Metstradamus said as much yesterday.  The Mets lost Jose Reyes, but this isn’t a team known for cultivating their own talent and keeping their homegrown players.  It should not surprise us nor should it be unexpected that this would happen.  Steve Keane at Kranepool Society said that he knew the Mets wouldn’t sign Reyes, and as he said a few months ago on our Kult of Mets Personalities podcast, that he actually thought Alderson HOPED someone would give Reyes a six-year contract.  Someone did, and we see the fallout from that.  We can only hope that it turns out to be a 20/20 hindsight good move.

Yet, I was surprised…nay, SHOCKED, really…that Albert Pujols left the Cardinals.  Yes, I know he and the Cards couldn’t come to an agreement before the season.  But I also know that people counted the Cards out when Wainwright was hurt.  And hey, did you hear who won the World Series this year?

But raise your hand if you thought if there was such a thing as “company loyalty” left in baseball, there was such a thing as a “hometown discount,” that Pujols would have typified that.   **RAISES BOTH HANDS AND FEET**  Yeah, I am that chick.  I hear all these great stories about the fans in St. Louis, how loyal they are, how every player LOVES playing there, no one ever wants to leave.  Even careers get rejuvenated in St. Lou.  Look at Berkman, who seemed like he left his best years behind in Houston.  Even though Pitchers Hit 8th told me that Pujols pretty much stated he wasn’t looking for a hometown discount, I didn’t believe it.

There is Larry Jones.  There is Derek Jeter.  But these guys are exceptions to the rule that the name on the back of the jersey does not trump the name on the front of the jersey (yet, if you talked to Jeter’s GM Brian Cashman last year, he made negotiations uncomfortable by telling Jeter to get another offer better than the one they were offering).

I was 13 years old when I learned my lesson.  That you’re only as good as the team you play on, and if you can get a better return in value, then that happens too.  I’m not saying we can’t get attached to our favorite players (I am accepting of losing Reyes, but I will still miss him and wonder “what could have been”), but if we realize that we root for a larger entity as fans — the “laundry” — we’ll save ourselves much pain and anguish in the long-run.

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

MLB, New York Mets, , , , One comment

I’ve been a Mets fan since I was seven.  I’ve seen a lot in my not-so-short yet not-quite-as-long as others.  I’ve seen the Mets win a World Series in front of my own eyes, but I also saw Mike Scioscia sucked the life out of a team and a fanbase on a cold October night in 1988.  I’ve seen two celebrations for an NL East at home, but I also saw Carlos Beltran take strike three.  I was at “Closing Day” at Shea Stadium, but I’ve been to many many games at CitiField, where we’ve yet to create our fond memories.

I was in diapers when Tom Seaver was traded, but rumor has it I was snoozing in my crib while my dad cried watching the evening news that night.  I was in first grade when the Mets were on WOR and some guy named Keith was playing for them, and my dad had baseball on more often than he had before.

I saw Dwight Gooden fall to his demons many many times.  I saw Lenny Dykstra and Roger McDowell traded for Juan Samuel.  Darryl Strawberry, nicknamed the “Black Ted Williams” when he was being scouted, walked away from the Mets to go home to L.A.  Generation K never lived up to our expectations, and Bobby Jones started out as overrated but became underrated as he left the team. The great dream of Scott Kazmir was dashed away when the Mets decided to become a “win-now” team with missing puzzle piece Victor Zambrano.

So is life, as Harry Belafonte once sang on The Muppet Show, for a Mets fan.

In the offseason leading to the 2008 season, I wrote a piece at my inaugural Mets blog My Summer Family when Johan Santana was traded to the Mets.  Its Always Darkest Before Dawn, I called it, because it was right after 2007 and the collapse and everything sucked.  And I just remembered that it’s never easy being a Mets fan.  And look…Johan Santana hasn’t quite lived up to our expectations either.  Then again, we should not be surprised.

The sun will come out tomorrow.  Little Orphan Annie sang this about better days to come.  I think we can gain a lot from this message for a lot of aspects of life.  If you’re still breathing, you have a bad day, you get dumped, whatever, chances are the days will go on and you’ll overcome it.

And we’ll overcome our loss of Jose Reyes.  It won’t be easy, and it won’t be fun, but it will happen because…it will happen.  It just has to.  When Beltran’s caught looking ended an improbable run in 2006, and then started a chain of events for failure with the team, we’re still here.  We’re still breathing.  We’re still rooting and believing just like we normally do.

Is it horrible to lose Reyes?  I won’t lie to you: it is.  But not for the reasons you think.  To be blunt, this is a business.  Free agents come and go and Reyes was no exception.  It happens. We root for the laundry and not the player (just the players who wear the laundry).  Sadly, this team was not winning with Reyes…they can keep not winning without him.

That can be simplistic I know.  Especially for a man who was the Mets’ first batting champion and is beloved by fans all over.  At the end of the day, Jose Reyes will be a Miami Marlin…and we’ll have to get over it.

The sun came out this morning, and will continue to rise in the east and set in the west every day after.  So fare thee well, Jose.  We’ll miss you, it will be hard to get over you, but we’ll do it eventually.

To Hilda: With Love, CC

MLB, New York Mets, , Leave a comment

I liked Chris Capuano.  The Mets offered him a one-year contract last year worth $1.5 million.  Keep in mind that he had not pitched for a year prior due to injury.  Now that he’s proven himself to stay healthy and can be an innings-eater, the Mets no longer want anything to do with him.

I can see that side to the argument.  But clearly, Sandy Alderson did not consult with ME or any of the Lady Mets who like to “look” at their team.  And by “look” I mean “ass.”

Brian Schneider — now of the hated Philadelphia Phillies — had an ass like two scoops of butter pecan ice cream.  Capuano wasn’t that nice…but he had nice calves and a nice smile and was easily the cutest Met on the team this year.  Sigh.

What’s more: I became Twitter buddies with someone I consider my “West Coast Baseball Twin,” Hilda Chester. We have the same type of baseball personality: we live for the sport in the summer time, but can certainly enjoy the fringe benefits that come along with it…meaning: good looking menz in uniform.  She pinged me earlier in the season and said something to the effect of Chris Capuano being a cutie and that he had nice calves.

Needless to say, whenever he pitched, she’d watch the pitches with me, although she herself bleeds Dodger blue.

Some of the pics I am posting here today of Capuano were taken with Hilda in mind.  He was doing some practice pitches at one of the last home games of the season, and my husband was able to get some good shots of him in the bullpen.  (What can I say, he’s an enabler) There’s even a pic of him smiling!

 

Yesterday, Hilda’s team got the best looking pitcher in baseball signed to a two-year deal.  Capuano is going to be gracing his presence in a Dodger uniform next year.  So Hilda, I give you my pitcher and the last great pictures we took of him as a Met at CitiField.  Enjoy looking at him, as many of the female fans did this year.

But I actually will miss his consistency on the mound.

A Series Teaser

MLB, New York Mets, , , , Leave a comment

I’ve been pretty quiet about the Mets this offseason.  Mostly because they, themselves, have been quiet.  As my friend Richie S over at Random Mets Thoughts says, wake us when there’s news.

The last thing I want to do though, is become complacent in my Mets writing.  I mean, when something does happen, it’s easy to be reactionary.  Which I realize has been part of my problem in the last few years: too reactionary, not enough creativity.  Even when I’m reactionary though, I can be creative.  Yet I started A Gal For All Seasons to be proactive and come up with original content.  It can be stifling at times, but it forces me to think out of the box.  Sometimes, though, forcing yourself to do something can be counterproductive.  But I keep plotzing on.

In the middle of the 2011 season, over at sister site Kiners Korner, I did a series on the Most Notorious Mets.  It was fun and lively and generated a lot of dialogue.  Then someone approached me about writing a book.  Granted, it wasn’t anyone in the publishing industry, but when I was tapped to add a piece about our friend Dana Brand in his memorial book last summer, I knew I could probably do it if I had a better focus.

So I’m using this platform as a vehicle to help me refine my craft.  It may not be the Great American Novel I swore to my English professors that I would write someday…but it could be a fun lively story that is appreciated by the Mets community.  Which is all I really need is to write something to connect with the community.

Despite whatever negative, positive, or somewhere in between there will be in Mets news this offseason, I will try to keep things light and original and try to post a new synopsis weekly about my ideas.  Stay tuned!

Mission: Accomplished

MLB, New York Mets, , , One comment

See this?  That picture was taken in July, in celebration of our friend and brother in the Mets community, Dana Brand.  Dana passed away earlier this year.  He was a real hero and champion to the Mets community, especially the Meterati, who fancied themselves as sort of writers with feeling and emotion, and tying in our love for the Mets with our daily zest for life.

Mets fans are a quirky bunch, and hey, it takes one to know one.  Or several.  Back in 2007, I was invited to a reading by Dana Brand for his then newly-released Mets Fan book.  The Mets literati was a club I desperately wanted to pledge.  When I walked in that day, Dana looked at me, recognized me right away, and motioned for me to join in on the fun.  I’ll never forget that.  If you want a real-life example, if you ever saw the movie Independence Day, when Judd Hirsch’s character is forming the prayer circle, and tells everyone to join hands, THAT was Dana Brand.

 

If you noticed in the first photo I posted, I was speaking in front of a sign that said, “Bring Back Banner Day.”  Perhaps it was done a little tongue in cheek, perhaps it was a little wistful.  Yet, the idea of banner day is very Metsian in its roots, and perhaps defines the very essence of being a Mets fan.

I attended my first Banner Day in 1986, which used to be in between a scheduled doubleheader (try getting that done anymore).  At the time, I didn’t understand the history and roots behind it, but it does remain one of my fondest memories.  After all, how could I forget the one sign that has been a Cooper family punchline ever since: “Shea’s Bathrooms Are Worse Than Chernobyl.”

Things are different now.  Mets fans can be snarky and wise-asses, but we’re a little more educated now and attuned to the inner-workings of the team.  I didn’t think Banner Day would fly again.  Sure, I am a fan who certainly wanted it to return.  For a stadium that has a strict banner and sign policy (and CitiField is hardly the ONLY place that does this), I didn’t think Banner Day would ever be again.

Till the 50th anniversary festivities were announced and Banner Day IS returning for 2012!!!

Can I get a WOOOOO?? WOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Of course, no good deed can go without wondering what it’s ulterior motives are, perhaps Bitter Bill asked with are Mets pulling the sheets over our eyes?  What, covering a crap cake, as I like to call things nowadays?  This, I feel, is a step towards making us fans happy.  We wanted something like this for years.  Wanna hear my theory on questions like that?  Mets fans are afraid to allow themselves to be happy about anything.  I’m not afraid.  I’m really thinking about what kind of Banner Day I want to make.  The 50th anniversary is bringing the fun back.

Fun is something that has been missing for quite some time, especially since CitiField opened up.  When the Mets were the Loveable Losers in the ’60s, Banner Day was something for everyone to enjoy and to forget how bad the team was, it was for the fans and BY the fans.  If you think about it, blogs and podcasts and videos are done as a way of expressing our love and even our frustrations with the team, and how they impact our lives.  I guess that it’s like with any relationship, you give, you take, you love, you hate.

I said when I heard of Dana Brand’s passing this year, that I was sure he would be one of the first people some of us would think of when the Mets won a championship.  His name was the first person who popped into my head for this announcement about Banner Day, that he would have loved to see it.  Along with many of us who fought the good fight to get Banner Day back where it belonged: in CitiField, with the Mets, once again.

Giving Thanks

MLB, New York Jets, New York Mets, New York Rangers, NFL, NHL, , , , , , View all 2 comments

This might have been a phone conversation I had with my dad the other night.

Me: “So I’ll be seeing my friends Fred and Jenn this weekend.”

Dad: “Fred Solomon??? Man, I feel like I know that guy.”

Funny, because “Solly,” as we like to call him, has never met my dad (neither has his wife, Jenn).  Yet, because of this wonderful thing called social media and Facebook, it’s introduced me to a universe of friends that I probably would not have known otherwise.

And at the root of it?  It’s our shared fandom of certain teams.

Fans at a Jets game (From L to R): Kevin, Coop, Mr. E and Kace

When I was a kid, my dad would take me Mets games at Shea Stadium.  Mr. E, as we call him, has a natural approachable and friendly personality.  Anyone who meets him loves him.  He’s just the right mixture of lovably wacky and heart-of-gold.  This weekend, he turns 60. He’s showed me what it’s like to be a die-hard fan of sports and what it takes to be a friend.

I’ve probably loved him and hated him equally for making me a Mets, Jets and Rangers fan though.

Yet, when we used to go to these games, he’d go with his best friend, affectionately known as “Uncle Gene,” and I’d tag along.  They’d keep me occupied with Cracker Jacks, fountain sodas and ice cream (did I mention how hyper I’d be at these games too?).  They used to sit in a section with these guys Dominic, Rob and Mike.  You’d never know it, but they just met and socialized at the games.  They always seemed like they knew each forever.  But it was sports.  Sports is what drew them together, and what was an initial common bond.

Sadly, they lost touch over the years, but I can’t tell you how many times Dominic, Rob and Mike popped into a conversation with Mr. E or Uncle Gene while we talked about going to Mets games.  I always remembered though that I loved the in-the-trenches humor that Mets fans have, and it kept me around, even in down times because it was always a common thread we have.

My dad also got me going to Rangers hockey games and into the Jets a long time ago.  After the Giants won the Super Bowl in 2008, I said, “It’s bad enough that you made me a Mets and a Rangers fan…but a JETS FAN???”  Pops took me to my first Mets baseball game and Rangers hockey game…but I took him to his first Jets game last year.  So I guess one good turn deserves another.

Mets Fans at AT&T Park (From L to R): Ed, Coop, Senor Solly and Mrs. Senor Solly

So this brings me back to Fred and Jenn, or Senor Solly and Mrs. Senor Solly.  I don’t know if I’d know them outside of sports.  I’d like to think somehow our paths would have crossed but outside of our mutual fandom, sadly I don’t think that would be the case.  So even when my teams are horrible and they suck and they piss me off, I have the relationships and bonds I’ve formed as a result of them.  Yet, because my dad has been “introduced” to them as a result of tools like Facebook or even about me bringing them up in conversation, they are kind of like my versions of Dominic, Rob and Mike.  Though maybe if Facebook existed back in the ’80s, we wouldn’t be wondering “What happened to those guys??” and maybe seeing them at games more regularly.  Last we heard, Dominic got married and was living in Greenwich, Connecticut, and had two kids.  That was back in 1994.  His kids might have graduated college by now.

This is the time of the year we are supposed to give thanks to what we have and friend we have met and for our family, but most of all I am thankful that my dad got me into sports.  I may get mad at him for rooting in exercises in futility sometimes…yet, I also know the thrill of winning, which is why I stick around and it makes the bad times worth it.

But most of all, it got me to meet some lovely people over the years.  If you are not a sports fan, then perhaps this is a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.  There may be common bonds you form with different groups of people.  For us, we get together, and bitch about our teams, and reminisce about the good ol’ days, and then we find we have more in common than we ever thought.

Shadows of the Seasons

MLB, New York Jets, New York Mets, New York Rangers, NFL, NHL, , , , , , , View all 2 comments

Spending a bunch of time at baseball games during the year would have maybe tired out one person, but not this chick.  Baseball is the very heart of my being, but during the cold winter months, I need something else to spice up my life.  Football is for the short-of-attention spans…hockey is for those who like hulking men beating the crap out of each other.  There’s not as much commitment in these sports as 162 games a year hold…but there’s a commitment of its own respect and a deep passion attached to each of them.

Of course, some of my worlds interconnect or go off the beaten path during the non-baseball months.  I know that Mets, Jets and Rangers fans exist, but most of the time, they coexist. I find that I get along with most Mets fans but if they are not Jets nor Rangers fans, I’m okay with that.  I know a few Mets fans who are also Giants and Devils fans.  Or Mets fans and Islanders fans.  Hey, nobody’s perfect.  Lately, though, I’ve been intermingling with Jets or Rangers fans who are not necessarily Mets fans.

Take Saturday night…I went to my first Rangers game of the season.  I got to see my friend Conor at the Blarney Rock (one of the bartenders who never forgets a face or a…face), and I got to meet up with @Stefmara from Twitter, a die-hard Yankees and Rangers fan.

  

I used to have a problem with Yankees fans, but not fans like she is. She is knowledgeable, passionate and not a Johnny-Come-Lately (or Lifelong Fan*… *Since 1996).  I had a good friend of mine, Paulee Vee, who was also a big Yankees fan.  We’d argue a lot, but he said that we had similar passions.  So the passion is there, we can agree upon that…to a Mets fan though, it’s always tough to identify with 27 championships, but we’re our own little quirky universe.  I’m comfortable with that, and there’s never a reason to be ashamed.

Anyway, it turns out that besides the Rangers, we had much in common, such as people.  We were officially introduced in @AmandaRykoff‘s espnW piece on intense female fans in the New York area.  Turns out she knew a bunch of people I knew in person, and it would have only been a matter of time before we were introduced anyway.

It was easy to see how hard core Stef is.  She was raised in a hockey family, understands the nuances of it like any professional player…and even is such a Wisconsin fan, she has a Derek Stepan jersey from his days at Wisco.  I always say that baseball is my first love, but I always appreciate a dyed-in-the-wool hockey fan.

I’ll comment on the Rangers/Canadiens game I actually went to in a later post, but I will say that I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out.

The first Sunday in November is always a big day in New York City: Marathon Sunday.  It’s a day that drivers curse, and especially those who live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan can’t get around because the race route goes right up 1st Ave and down 5th Ave for several blocks.  I considered myself lucky because I’m on the West Side…except that the high-profile finish line is right by where I live.  My Mets friend Dee (the artist formerly known as Mets Writer) came in because we hadn’t seen each other in awhile, but also wanted to catch a Jets game on TV together.  When she arrived, around 11 am, the crowds from the Marathon hadn’t quite reached their apex, but once we got out of brunch it seemed like every single finisher was showing up right in my neighborhood.

The Marathon is a great part of New York City culture…just get the Hell out of the neighborhood.  Ah, I simply joke.  Because next year I will be one of those finishers…I’m sure you’ll hear a lot about it, being that I will be running for charity next year.

 

The Marathon is something I probably would have thought “I’d love to do it someday but…” and find a million excuses as to why I shouldn’t/couldn’t do it.  Yet, one of my dear Mets friends ran it last year, and it inspired me to figure out why I was holding myself back. So 2012…here I come!

Getting back to my day with Dee, she and I are both Jets fans too. We have December birthdays, and decided that we are going to treat ourselves to a Jets game in December (her first ever…it will be my third game of the season at this point).  So we took in the Jets/Bills game at Dallas BBQ.

All I know is that: the Jets won, they beat the highly-considered Bills, and that no one in the mainstream media is discounting the win. Funny, I was ready to queue up my cheeks so the naysayers could kiss my ass.  It didn’t happen though.

Yet the weekend was framed by two birthday parties…one for @laurmkor (a friend of mine who happens to be a Yankees fan) and Amanda’s, which is always going to be surrounded by sports- and beer-loving folks.

All my seasons came together this weekend, and it made me realize how fortunate I am to know these people.  Love may make the world go ’round, but sports is what keeps your relationships interesting for sure.

When Did I Become the “Elder?”

MLB, New York Mets, , , , Leave a comment

Today is the 25th anniversary of the last championship the Mets won.  Today, the Mets blogosphere is saturated with stories of Game Seven, summaries, “What-Was-I-Doing-When…” stories, among others.

As Mets fans, we appreciate the history of this team, albeit quirky and riddled with more ennui than excitement.  While I think we tend to romanticize the “down years” a little too much, this date reminds us of how we can all look back with fondness and glee, remembering where you were exactly when the Mets last won a World Series.

Unless, of course, you weren’t born by then or were alive, but do not have vivid memories of their last bombastic year.

When the Mets won in 1986, I was 10 years old.  I was one of the youngest people at the game that night (although I do remember a little boy sitting next to me, who had to have been six).  Now, I’m one of the elders.

How the Hell did that happen?

A lot can happen in 25 years.  A person who was born in 1986 could be a pitcher for the Mets now (as Jonathon Niese is, as well as Pedro Beato), someone who was born after could be married and have children (like Josh Thole)…at the very least, has a license and a Joe Schmoe job like the rest of us if he was not lucky enough to have a talent for baseball and couldn’t get drafted by the Mets.  Yet, in 25 years, I have become a sage, a wise fan who can share the old war stories about 1986.

Again, I ask, how did that happen?

When I was 10, I looked to people like my dad and his friends who all went to games together to tell me about the past, what it was like to see a game at the Polo Grounds (my dad and his best friend were usually taken to the games by their respective older brothers), to tell me about 1969 (my dad skipped school so he could watch it that day), when Tom Seaver was traded (I was in my crib, my dad crying at the television during the evening news), the Hendu Can-Do Walk-Off (which reminds us that even in darkness, there is a light at the end), and then when Keith Hernandez was traded to the Mets (I decided that if my dad liked those guys, then I would like them too).

Over the years, I’ve made lots of my own memories, mostly good, even in the down years.  One of my favorite Mets teams in my older years was in 1999, which defied all logic to go on to the National League Championship Series by sheer determination.  Sometimes, I appreciate that team more than 1986 because we all knew they would win in 1986; 1999 was a lovely surprise.  On the other end of the spectrum, 2006 raised our expectations so high, that we still have not recovered from the disappointing end to that season.

In some ways, 1986 is all we have for our bragging rights, the team that didn’t give a damn about anyone and made New York proud.

So for Mike, and Matt, and the rest of you whipper snappers over at the Stache, I know I have to regale you with stories from Game Seven in ’86.  My dad was in attendance at Game Six, and met some folks who drove from Rhode Island to see what could have potentially been the clinching game for their Red Sox.  Of course, we all know what happened Game Six.  Turns out, these folks had four tickets to a deciding Game Seven, which they could no longer attend (bear in mind, Game Six was on a Saturday, and Game Seven was supposed to be on Sunday…the original “Game Seven” was rained out and scheduled for Monday).  My dad offered to buy the tickets, and went home $400 lighter, but richer in four field level box seats.

I still to this day wonder how my dad pulled that one off.  But if Karma does indeed exist, perhaps we’ve been paying for that ticket in more ways than one today.

I remember the night was one of those humid nights, where there’s a chill in the air but it had rained all day the previous day, so there was haze.  I remember having my palms sweaty, and even crying at one point because the Mets weren’t doing anything (Hey, I was 10…leave me alone).

I remember a nice lady sitting behind me, telling me that they would turn it on the sixth inning. I had to believe her, because I knew, even at 10, that the Mets were not going to lose that game, even when they were losing.  Sid Fernandez saved the day, then Keith Hernandez drove in two runs in the sixth inning.  She was right, and the Mets were on their way.

I remember not sitting THE ENTIRE GAME.  AT. ALL.  No schmoes were yelling at us to sit “down in front” or anything like that.  I don’t remember any Red Sox fans in the area, but I’m sure there had to be some there.  I do remember, however, walking around the concourse in the old field level at Shea, where I saw effigies of burned red socks laying around the corridor (get it??).  I remember the couple next to us singing vulgar songs about how “Boston Sucks.”  I remember trying to look for Bo Fields, the “rolling arms lady” who was featured behind home plate rolling her arms around like a mad woman (I also met her a few years later, I want to say in 1989 or 1990).  I remember a little kid sitting next to me (the six year old boy I referenced earlier) with a WatchMan, and I remember us looking at each other when Darryl Strawberry tried to catch what I believe to became a Dwight Evans home run.  This is where my 25-year old memory as a 10-year old might have tricked me.

I remember not being quiet for the last three innings of the game.  I remember that I didn’t see that lady who warned me about the sixth inning till the end of the game, which may have made her some kind of oracle, a vision who was reassuring me that the Mets would be all right.

The same night that Pedro Beato and Jonathon Niese were born, I was chanting “We’re Number One! We’re Number One!” after the game had ended, when Rick Aguilera, Bobby Ojeda, Tim Teufel (I think…) and Lenny Dykstra were drinking booze on the mound.  Also, keep in mind that three of those four guys were arrested in Houston for a bar room brawl earlier in the season.

These guys didn’t care about what ANYONE thought of them.  Bobby O even said in Jeff Pearlman’s The Bad Guys Won that these guys would have died in battle with the other, and that’s what made the team so special.  This is the team that has held my heart for so many years, yet has set the standard for disappointment or fallen just short since then.

What is the difference between that team and today’s teams, plural?  This team had the luxury of waiting a few years, getting good draft picks, using picks to get established talent to build up the team and they went on for success, though they only won ONE World Championship.  In some ways, that team also fell short, but there were also outside demons we later found out about, especially with the hopes of the future Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry addictions.  Good luck getting anyone to wait or exercise patience for that.  We certainly see that in today’s “I-Want-It-NOW” fans, no matter the fan base.

Many people knew I was in attendance at Game Seven at Shea Stadium in 1986.  This is one of the first times I’ve shared my stories and memories with a blog in the time I’ve been writing about the team.  I’ve made allusions to it, but I never discussed that night.  There are some nights that I still wish Shea existed, that I could walk around the corridors again, much like that night in October 1986, to get that same feeling washed over me again and I could bask in the glory one more time.

Until we make new memories at CitiField, this will be all we have till then.  So celebrate it and acknowledge it, but I’m looking forward to the day where some kid who was born in 1986 or afterwards can say 25 years after the fact, “Hey, remember when we won in X-year?”  It will be their turn to pass on the memories to the next generation.  I just hope that is sooner rather than later.

#BlameBuckner /sarcasm

MLB, New York Mets, , , , , View all 3 comments

Today is the 25th anniversary of a gigantic moment in Mets history, and that’s the celebration of Game Six.

Whether you were alive, a child, a baby, an adult, not even born yet, chances are an elder has sat you down and either played the last inning of the game or has told them the story verbatim.  I like to say that Mets fans are into the history of the team like no other fan base…we celebrate it and love to analyze it more than any other I am aware of (Yankees don’t count since mostly it’s about them winning…we appreciate the losing years a little TOO much at times I feel).  I call Mets history “Mets porn.”  This game is just probably the biggest money shot of them all, with all the ghosts of miracles past coming into play and as one of my dad’s friend put it that night, “God put his hand over Shea Stadium tonight.”

I was at home, watching the game with my mom.  She fell asleep around the time Dave Henderson hit the go-ahead home run in the top of the 10th inning.  I was 10 years old.  My dad, as I alluded above, was at the game.  I know it sounds cliche to say this 25 years after the fact, but at 10 years old, sitting on my mom’s bed watching the game, I wasn’t aware that the Mets *could* lose, that they were allowed to.  I often say that in Dwight Gooden’s rookie year, he lost nine games, and I swear I witnessed four of them live.  I knew the Mets could lose or had the capacity to, but I also didn’t think they would lose THIS game.

This isn’t going to be a retrospective of “What did I do during Game 6,” though Mark Simon from ESPN Mets Blog does that for me today.  It’s how history has rewritten Game Six as a Red Sox loss rather than a Mets win.  Sure, today we have a bunch of warm fuzzies discussing the event in most Mets forums today (after all, it’s much better to look at the past today than the present or at least the very near future), but for the most part if you look at how Game Six is in the lexicon of baseball fans, it’s how the Red Sox, Cursed Team of the North, were one strike away on several different occasions from tying up the win AND the series, but did not.  It’s never been about how the Mets were going on sheet guts and guile to win the game in a dramatic come-from-behind victory.

I’ve also felt bad for Bill Buckner for several years.  Just like how history rewrote the game as a Red Sox loss and not a Mets win, Buckner has gotten his share of the blame for the last play of the game.  Even the documentary Catching Hell discussed how the Red Sox media and fans treated Buckner afterwards.  Certainly, I can understand the power of the scapegoat…I am a Mets fan who has had to deal with the nuclear fallout of Carlos Beltran taking strike three in 2006.

Yet, being an amateur Mets historian as I like to think of myself, it amazes me just how many people think that the Mets actually WON the World Series in that game.  If it was…why was the loss and subsequent comeback so dramatic?  They still have Game 7 to play.  The Red Sox STILL blew a 3-run lead that game.

Buckner misplayed the “little roller along first,” but in order for the Mets to win, they had to have tied it at that point, right?  Furthermore, the dynamic changer of that inning was not the bunch of singles that got the Mets’ juices flowing, but it was Bob Stanley’s wild pitch. I’ve often said that no one was happier about Buckner letting the ball go through his legs than Stanley, who had allowed a run to score from third on the play.

Yes, even the good times in Mets lore have been marred by backhanded compliments, and ways to discredit their victory.  The biggest discredit of them all is blaming Buckner.  I’d like to hope that people don’t blame him or look at the bigger picture.  I know that five years after the fact, people still blame Beltran for all the Mets woes to this day (I, personally, blame Duaner Sanchez for getting hungry on July 30, 2006, in Miami).  Did you know, as a “for instance,” that then-Red Sox manager John McNamara usually replaced Buckner defensively in later innings but opted to keep him in the game so he could “celebrate?”  Where’s the ire towards him for putting the proverbial cart before the horse?

Today is a significant day in Mets culture.  There is no question about it.  However, I hope it doesn’t take another 25 years before people see the bigger picture of what really happened here…and that the Mets earned this victory by sheer determination, hard work and grit: something really lacking in today’s game.

Which Way Do We Go, George?

MLB, New York Mets, One comment

People who know me as a Mets fan know that I live, breathe and eat (sleep too, since they can show up in my dreams) all things Mets.  So when they ask me “what would YOU do this off-season in regards to…fill-in-the-blank?” (Mostly concerning Jose Reyes, but also how to improve the team)…I really have no clue how to respond.

The past season wasn’t just one thing that stood out to me.  The Mets ranked number six in the National League in runs scored, so scoring runs wasn’t a problem…yet, they didn’t have a 100+ RBI guy at all (and the guy who led the entire team in 2011 was no longer on the team as of the end of July).  Plus, even with the scoring run potential, that didn’t mean much since it wasn’t enough to win.  This suggests to me that what needs the most revamping is the pitching, from top to bottom.  There just needs to be a douching of the entire staff.

First things first, I want to address the “Jose Reyes Factor.”  I love Jose Reyes, I’d like nothing more than for him to be a Met for life.  If you had asked me at the beginning of last season what I thought should be job one, I would not have blinked when I said, “We need to keep Jose Reyes.”  Being a big market team is one thing: being a shithead with your payroll and tying it to one player is another.  Not to mention, other ownership outliers, which Mike Silva from NY Baseball Digest addresses.

This post isn’t about Jose Reyes though.  It goes into where the crux of the Mets problems has been for the past five years essentially.  Pitching hasn’t been horrible, but hasn’t been fantastic or show-stopping either.  I love R.A. Dickey, but when he’s your ace, this is a problem.  Please, spare me the whole “Well, when Johan Santana comes back…”  That is Omar Minaya-esque rationalization, and we have no idea what he’ll be like when he returns from several injury-ridden seasons, and one season where he was out for its entirety.

It’s time to see where Sandy Alderson views as pros, cons, strengths and weaknesses of this team.  I had a conversation with Metstradamus a few days ago about how he could have bettered the team going into 2011, like trading Angel Pagan and/or Mike Pelfrey when they were at their highest value.  Now they have about as much value as dog poop under a shoe.  The point is, in 2011, Alderson was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t…do anything, that is.  If he traded Pelfrey, we would have screamed as he had a better in St. Louis or someplace like that.  People would have “never rooted for the team again” if Angel Pagan their darling who clearly peaked in 2010, was gone.  Of course, I am exaggerating but this was something that clearly could have been something positive for the Mets if Alderson had gone the proactive root.

Don’t misunderstand me: I am happy Alderson is on our side.  Yet, with Oliver Perez, Luis Castillo and Carlos Beltran officially off the books, this is now HIS team to run with and improve.  If Silva is correct and the money thing is more of a deterrent than we know (I happen to believe Wilpons are holding onto the team for selfish reasons, but don’t believe it will preclude from them spending money this offseason if need be…Selig, warts and all, would never let a large market team go under on his watch), we may not have Reyes, but there are other places I think that need improvement that probably don’t need millions of dollars to revamp or just for the sake of spending.

My philosophy now is with the official release of the dimensions changing, this is the time to address a big gaping hole in the Mets organization in the last few years and that’s pitching.  Getting good starters is one thing, but if you look at the playoff teams this year, they ALL have deep and very strong bullpens.  Where have the Mets lost a lot of games these past few years?  In back innings.  There were two games against the Milwaukee Brewers in the summer where they have late inning leads, just to see them blown by an inconsistent jumpy bullpen.  Since we’re on the topic too, why the Hell wasn’t Dan Warthen let go in the coaching shake up this year??  That’s mind blowing.  You see the Cardinals, you see Rangers, they have Dave Duncan and Mike Maddux, respectively, as their pitching coaches.  We have Warthen.  We suck in the pitching department.  Bring back Peterson or get better pitchers, goddammit.

So which way do we go?  Barring any catastrophe with Reyes, I will not jump ship, but if pitching is not seriously addressed to go with the new dimensions of the stadium and for a stronger ‘pen, I will go ape.