Say whatever you want about the format or necessity of interleague play, but every year, it provides me six chances to get payback. Six chances to earn bragging rights. Call it mean. Call it cruel. But as a Mets fan, I’ve earned the right to be that way and earned the right to hate the Yankees.

The tale of the Yankees versus the underdogs began over a century ago, when it was the Dodgers and Giants fans who were wishing for their chances to get payback. For decades, they had to sit back and watch the likes of Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Joe DiMaggio win one championship after another. From 1900 to when the Giants and Dodgers both left the area after the 1957 season, the Yankees won 17 world championships. The Giants and Dodgers won a combined total of six.

The Yankees quickly grew in popularity in the 1920s, overtaking even John McGraw’s Giants as New York’s team. The Giants actually kicked the Yankees out of the Polo Grounds in 1921 because they were jealous of how much the Yankees out-drew them in attendance. This was the 1921 Giants, the world champions!

The animosity between the fans was huge. As Jim Bouton explained in The New York Times, the rivalry between the two teams caused a cultural division:

Growing up in the blue-collar town of Rochelle Park, N.J., you rooted for either the Brooklyn Dodgers or the New York Giants. I was a Giants fan, and I loved going to the Polo Grounds. Nobody rooted for the Yankees in Rochelle Park. It didn’t seem sporting — like shooting fish in a barrel. Yankee fans, we believed, were the sons of bankers who lived in towns with bigger houses and nicer lawns.

-Jim Bouton NY Times 6/1/12  

In the 50s, the rivalries reached their heights, with all three teams having success. The Dodgers and Yankees played seven times in the World Series over a 15-year span. However, when both teams left, the cries of “wait ’til next year” went silent. Four seasons without a team left fans with no team to root for.

The Mets gave heartbroken fans something to root for. The Mets are just like the Giants and “The Brooklyn Bums”- underdogs, disrespected by Yankee fans. This new culture of fans was built around the hardiness and resilience the Dodger and Giant fans brought has spread to the entire fanbase. After all, it does take a tough person to be a Mets fan, right?

So say what you will about how meaningless interleague play is. Rant about how you think the rivalry is dead. It’s not dead. It’s still alive and well.  I will always love it when we win and hate it when they lose.

C’mon Mets, pull it out this weekend. Great win last night, one down, two to go…

Beat the Yankees.

It was early April. The rosters were set and Opening Day was hours away. Unexpectedly the Mets exhibition game against the Expos was cancelled due to a players strike. With a free afternoon and nothing to do, the Mets manager and some of his coaches decided to walk across the street and play a round of golf at the Palm Beach Lakes Club. Later that afternoon on their way back to the Ramada Hotel where the team was staying, manager Gil Hodges collapsed in the parking lot of a heart attack just 2 days prior to his 48th birthday. He was pronounced dead at 5:45 pm.

The emptiness left by Hodges’ passing was not just felt from Florida to Brooklyn and Flushing but throughout the entire Baseball community. One of the games most loved and respected players would never again walk onto the field.

Hodges career was worthy of enshrinement in Cooperstown. Over 18 years, two of which were interrupted by service to his co

untry in World War II, he compiled 1274 RBI’s, 14 Grand Slams (most in NL history at the time of his retirement) and 370 career HR’s (most by a RH hitter at the time.) He accrued 1921 hits and a respectable 273 career average for a power hitter to go along with a 487 slugging percentage. He was an 8 time All-Star, winner of 3 Gold Gloves and 3 World Series rings. On August 31, 1950, he hit 4 HR’s in 1 game and for 7 consecutive years, from 1949-1955, Hodges surpassed the century mark in RBI’s.

But it was Hodges ‘the man’ and not Hodges ‘the ballplayer’ that left his indelible mark on our national pastime. During his 15 year tenure with the Brooklyn Dodgers he was perhaps the most lovable of all ‘Dem Bums.’ Pitcher Clem Labine stated, “Gil was the only player I remember whom the fans never booed.’ Pee Wee Reese once said of his teammate, “If you had a son, you’d want him to grow up to be just like Gil Hodges.”

At the end of his stellar career, with his best days behind him, the city that loved him welcomed him home with open arms. 38 year old Hodges was the opening day 1bman for the expansion New York Mets and proceeded to hit the 1^st round tripper in team history.

In 63, Hodges was traded to the hapless Senators where it had been decided he’d become their manager. Although Washington failed to ever reach .500 with Hodges at the helm, their win total improved each season. In 1968, the beloved Brooklyn Dodger and original Met returned to New York once more, this time to manage the lovable losers. Through the first 6 years of existence, New York’s ‘other’ team averaged 109 losses. However, when Gil took the reins, he immediately made it clear losing would not be tolerated.

As Buddy Harrelson stated, that first season Gil just watched, watched and studied. There was a lot more right with the Mets than wrong. He also made it clear to the press that he would not tolerate any jokes about ‘the same old Mets.’ He would go on to manage the Mets to 339 victories, 3^rd most in club history.

Gil’s larger than life persona and reputation commanded the respect of a young team. An ex-Marine, he was tough yet compassionate. He was paternal in nature to the young players. He was old-school. When he argued with umpires, they were not tantrums in the likes of an Earl Weaver or Lou Piniella, but rather logical discussions based on reasoning. He was nicknamed ‘The Quiet Man.’ When he was furious with a left fielder for not hustling, he had no qualms about walking across the diamond and personally escorting Cleon Jones from the game. “Gil remains the most important influence in my career because he told me what being a professional entails,” Tom Seaver once stated. Hodges went on to explain to the young pitching superstar, “Sometimes you don’t have your best stuff because you can’t control that. But you can always control your effort.”

Hodges never displayed emotion, always appearing calm. No matter what happened on the field, good or bad, it appeared as if it was just as he planned. He was ahead of his time, becoming one of the first managers to platoon players. In 1969, he used the platoon of Swoboda and Shamsky in right, Weis and Boswell at 2b.

During the funeral service in April 1972, Gil’s son, Gil Hodges Jr, who was a prospect in the Cardinals organization, was ushered into the back of a limo by sportscaster Howard Cosell. In the rear seat sat Jackie and Rachel Robinson. “Jackie was hysterical,” recalled the younger Hodges. “My dad and mom were really the ones that befriended Jackie and Rachel. Mom made sure that the other wives” welcomed Rachel to the baseball family.

Every year the BBWAA elects someone  worthy of baseball immortality to Cooperstown. And every year Hodges’ is seemingly forgotten, thus beginning a discussion/debate over why he continues to be overlooked. Perhaps, however, it’s his son, who sums it up best. Gil Hodges Jr, now in his sixties, was recently asked about his dad being passed over year in and year out. His response: “To me, in all honesty, it’s really beyond irrelevant. Everyone treats him like he’s in the Hall of Fame anyway.”

Gilbert Ray Hodges:   April 4, 1924-April 2, 1972

To take our minds off the floundering excuse for a baseball team, I present to you a look back at a bit of baseball history from a different perspective.

Recently, I was lucky enough to interview Gil Hodges’ widow, Joan Hodges. She was so sweet and had so many great stories.

As the saying goes, “Behind every great man, there stands a great woman.”

Such is the case for Gil. On Dec. 26, 1948, Hodges married East Flatbush’s own Joan Lombardi. The soon-to-be 85-year-old Joan Hodges was born a Brooklyn Dodgers fan, so meeting Gil just seemed right.

Gil and Joan spent their honeymoon in Vero Beach, Fla., the home of the Dodgers’ spring training facility. While there, the team’s general manager Branch Rickey explained to Joan why the players slept in army barracks with their beds nailed to the wall.

“In spring training, ballplayers are treated like soldiers,” Rickey told Mrs. Hodges. “It’s training.”

This mentality forced the players to think of each other as brothers, while the players’ wives acted as sisters. Joan befriended many of Gil’s teammates’ wives, including Rachel Robinson, Dottie Reese, Ruth Campanella and Betty Erskine.

Ebbets Field, Flatbush, was a home away from home for Joan. She used to make her own scorecards on paper to follow along with the game, especially Gil’s at-bats.

Gil set a Major League record on Aug. 31, 1950 by being the first and still only player to hit four home runs in a single game, with each one coming off a different pitcher. After he had hit three home runs, Joan, who happened to be seated next to Don Newcombe’s father, covered her eyes and placed her head in her lap at Gil came to the plate.

“I couldn’t look,” said Mrs. Hodges. “But all of a sudden I heard, ‘Joanie! Joanie! Take your hands off your eyes! Look where it is. Centerfield!’”

When the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles after the 1957 season, Joan had a rough time adjusting at first and, in fact, lived out of her suitcase for the entire first month.

“I was a Dodger fan ever since I knew what a baseball was,” Mrs. Hodges said. “I was still with the Dodgers, but being away from Brooklyn was a very big blow.”

Luckily, Gil was selected by the expansion New York Mets in 1962, which allowed the family to return home. But soon after, Gil retired from playing and accepted the managerial job of the Washington Senators.

“Just think, we won’t have to face Willie Mays anymore,” Mrs. Hodges joyfully recalled. “But we now have Mickey Mantle.”

Managing consumed as much of Gil’s time as playing. One day, Joan accused Gil of not listening to a word she said while trying to fill him in on the kids’ lives.

“I’m going to get uniforms for all the children, and I’m going to take the rugs out of this whole house and put Astroturf down,” Mrs. Hodges said laughing. “Maybe then I can have your undivided attention.”

But Gil treated all the players he managed like his own children. It was this sense of discipline that allowed him to act as a miracle worker in turning the Mets from ‘Lovable Losers’ to 1969 World Champions.

“It was like he adopted first graders and made them college graduates,” said Mrs. Hodges.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck the Hodges family during spring training 1972. Gil died suddenly from a heart attack after golfing with the Mets coaches. He was two days shy of his 48th birthday.

At the funeral, famous sports journalist Howard Cosell asked Jackie Robinson how Gil’s death affected him.

“Almost as bad as when I lost my son,” said Robinson, who lost his 24-year-old son Jackie, Jr. in a car accident in 1971.

“I’ll never forget this as long as I live,” Mrs. Hodges said. “That’s how much respect they had for each other. Gil’s first word in life was respect.”

Gil’s respect and love for the game led to his No. 14 being retired by the Mets and the Brooklyn Cyclones. The 18-year veteran was an eight-time All-Star, three-time Gold Glove winner and even has the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge in Marine Park named in his honor.

But according to Joan, Gil’s crowning achievement is the fact the he helped bring the Dodgers their first-ever World Series title in 1955, and then later he was the first to bring a National League World Series championship back to the people by winning the Mets first-ever title in 1969.

Though he was inducted into the Mets Hall of Fame in 1982, he has yet to be selected as a member of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Though Joan is perplexed as to why she has not received the call, she tries not to discuss the matter, since she feels Gil would not want her to.

“His stats speak for themselves,” said Mrs. Hodges. “I just cannot give a reason why he hasn’t been enshrined in the Hall of Fame. I don’t live a day without hearing it.”

Let’s all keep praying that Joan gets the call soon from Cooperstown, because she and the scores of New Yorkers who saw Gil play and manage certainly deserve the honor.

“He’s in my Hall of Fame forever,” said Mrs. Hodges. “And my children’s and all the people that had the privilege of knowing him.”

I was recently at the Mets Team Store on the Field Level at Citi Field looking for some Mets T-shirts. After being pleasantly surprised to finally see R.A. Dickey and Angel Pagan number shirts for sale, my jaw dropped when I saw yet another piece of Brooklyn Dodgers merchandise.

This wasn’t yet another tribute to Jackie Robinson or Ebbets Field. This was something else entirely. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you photo documentation of the latest shirt for sale at the Mets Team Store.

A Sandy Koufax Brooklyn Dodgers shirt? Really? Let’s look up a few things about Mr. Koufax to share with our readers.

Sandy Koufax had a great career in the major leagues. He finished his career with a .655 winning percentage (165 wins, 87 losses), pitched four no-hitters (a record at the time), struck out 382 batters in a single season (also a record at the time), won three Cy Young Awards and was the National League MVP in 1963. He also was a member of four pennant winners and three World Series champions. As a result of his outstanding career, Koufax was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1972, his first year of eligibility.

That’s a lot of accomplishments for a pitcher whose career was cut short because of arthritis. But that’s not what stands out most for me on his Hall of Fame plaque. Let’s focus on Sandy himself, or rather, let’s focus on the cap he’s wearing in the plaque. What’s that on his cap? Oh, yeah…

It’s a LOS ANGELES DODGERS cap!

Now why is he wearing an LA on his cap rather than a “B” for Brooklyn? That’s because Koufax did very little in Brooklyn as a Dodger.

From 1955-1957, the last three seasons the Dodgers played at Ebbets Field, Sandy Koufax’s record was 9-10, or the same record compiled by Jonathon Niese in 2010. He was also very wild, walking 108 batters in 204.2 innings and posted a 4.00 ERA. Once the Dodgers packed their bags and left Brooklyn for LA, Koufax blossomed into one of the all-time greats in baseball.

So why on Earth is Citi Field selling Sandy Koufax Brooklyn Dodgers shirts when he did practically nothing as one of Dem Bums? It surely can’t be because the Mets appreciate pitchers who go 9-10 while pitching in one of the outer boroughs. If that were the case, then the store would also have a full stock of Jonathon Niese T-shirts (which they don’t; what’s up with that?).

No, Mr. Wilpon. You know the reason as well as I do. Sandy Koufax was a childhood friend of yours. The two of you went to Lafayette High School in Brooklyn together. Sandy comes to spring training as a favor to you to talk to your pitchers.

We get it. You’re BFFs. Fine.

But please. Sandy Koufax wasn’t a Met. He was barely a Brooklyn Dodger. Stop trying to make it seem like he was. The Mets don’t play at Ebbets Field. They don’t have a “B” on their hats. Therefore, if you could, we’d like you to stop trying to shove the Brooklyn Dodgers down our throats. We know this is probably hard for you to do, so perhaps we can reach a compromise.

Do you remember which two players led the major leagues in home runs and RBI during the 1950s? Maybe the photos below will help.

The man in the photo on the left is Duke Snider, who played in Brooklyn for 11 seasons (1947-1957). The man on the right is Gil Hodges, who came up to the Brooklyn Dodgers for good in 1947 after playing in one game for the team in 1943.

Both men played the majority of their major league careers as Brooklyn Dodgers, winning six pennants and one World Series in Brooklyn. They also have one other thing in common. Let’s roll out the photo album one more time to assist you.

Your eyes are not deceiving you, Mr. Wilpon. They were indeed both members of your New York Mets.

Duke Snider played one season for the Mets, making the All-Star team in 1963. Gil Hodges played parts of two seasons for the Mets (1962-63), hitting the first home run in franchise history on April 11, 1962. He also did something on a grander scale seven years later. It may or may not have involved winning a championship. I’ll have to look that up.

Do you see what I’m getting at, Mr. Wilpon? Why are you selling Sandy Koufax merchandise when you can sell Duke Snider or Gil Hodges gear? They were both Brooklyn Dodgers far longer than Koufax was and contributed to more success in Brooklyn than your boyhood buddy did. Plus, they have the added appeal to Mets fans because they both donned the orange and blue at some point.

As of right now, there is nothing for Duke Snider at Citi Field and only a first base entrance named after Gil Hodges. I know I’m not the only fan who’s appalled that you’re trying to sell Sandy Koufax as a Brooklyn Dodger to Mets fans. In fact, my wife (you may know her as “The Coop”) also has an opinion on the lovefest between you and the Brooklyn Dodgers, which she will share with you now:

Speaking of both teams for whom to pay homage, you also discredit the origins of the “orange” from the term “orange and blue” in your child-like fascination with the Brooklyn Dodgers, and that’s the New York Giants.

While the Dodgers were quick to embrace their new identity on the west coast with winning a championship in two years, the now-San Francisco Giants had to do nothing BUT embrace their New York roots. And why was that? Because prior to 2010, they had not won a championship in their 50 year old home and a lot of their rich history was based in New York. Even when the team won, they visited the old site of the Polo Grounds (where both the New York Giants and…oh some other team…oh yes, the New York Mets once upon a time played) with the Commissioner’s Trophy to pay homage to where their history originated. I don’t believe that the Dodgers visited the old site of Ebbets Field after winning a championship so quickly after switching coasts. The Giants embrace New York and the Mets need to embrace the Giants history as well.

It’s not so much the Koufax jersey or this blatant “to the victor go the spoils” attitude at Citi Field that is troublesome — there is also no mention of New York Giants history. You’d like to be fair, then how about this? In addition to selling Brooklyn memorabilia, why not include the Giants as well in a nostalgia store? Not to mention, one of the most storied baseball players in history, Willie Mays, played for both New York and San Francisco Giants AND ended his career with the Mets. Wouldn’t it be great to not only acknowledge those teams but to also have an actual connection to the Mets? There’s no limitation to having Giants or Dodgers jerseys either in the nostalgia store – you can sell old Mets jerseys as well and even other items such as collectible yearbooks and souvenir cups.

My wife and I are just two people, Mr. Wilpon. But we’re not the only ones who feel that you have overdone it with your homage to the Brooklyn Dodgers at Citi Field.

You’re the owner of the New York Mets. You also love the Brooklyn Dodgers. If you absolutely must share that Dodger love with the fans who pay their way into your homage to Ebbets Field to see the Mets play, at least share it with players who have ties to both teams. Is that so hard to do, Mr. Wilpon?

Peace, love, Mets, y’all,
Ed Leyro and Taryn Cooper

He was Brooklyn’s CFer during what has been called ‘The Golden Era of Baseball in New York.’ And Golden it was. While Duke played CF for Brooklyn, Willie Mays covered CF for the New York Giants and Mickey Mantle played for the Yankees. Three of the greatest Center Fielders in history, all playing at the same time. And in the same city.

For the 11 year period from 1947-1958, at least one New York team played in the World Series every year, other than 1948.

He was born Edwin Donald Snider in Los Angeles on Sept 19, 1926. One day, the young Snider was walking home from a little league game. He had a good day at the plate and there was a strut in his walk to go along with his beaming smile. His father noticed the bounce in his son’s confident gait and commented jokingly, “Here comes the Duke.” The name stuck.

Snider broke into the majors in 1947 but struggled early. He played only 93 games his first two years, hitting just 241 and 244. He was a wild swinger. It was Branch Rickey who turned around and perhaps saved Snider’s career. He would have Duke stand at the plate during BP, bat on his shoulder and NOT swing. Instead, he wanted the young outfielder to call out if the pitch was a ball or a strike. This taught Snider the strike zone.

And now, he became The Duke of Flatbush.

In a lineup filled with future and should-be Hall of Famers such as Jackie Robinson, Pee Wee Reese, Roy Campanella, Gil Hodges and Carl Furillo, Snider was the Dodgers’ only LH power hitter. The RF wall in Ebbets Field was only 297 feet away, but it stood  38 feet high, higher then The Green Monster.

The Duke of Flatbush would go on to lead the NL in HR’s for 5 straight seasons. From 1950 through 1957, Snider averaged 36 HR’s and 111 RBI’s to go along with a 306 BA.

Brooklyn fans always stated ‘Wait ‘til next year.’ ‘Next year’ happened in 1955 when the Dodgers won their one and only championship in Brooklyn. And Snider was in the middle of it. He has perhaps his best year, hitting 309 with 42 round trippers and 136 RBI’s. In the 7 game series vs. the Yankees, Snider went deep 4 times and knocked in 7. In spite of his great numbers, he failed to win the MVP, losing by one vote to teammate Roy Campanella. Snider never did win an MVP.

In 1958, now with the Los Angeles Dodgers, Snider walked up to a young Giants rookie just before his first game in the majors. “Good luck, Orlando,” he said to rookie and future Hall of Famer Orlando Cepeda. Cepeda stated years later, ‘He was one of my idols. I almost fainted.’

In 1963, Snider returned to New York for one season with the Mets. The following year he returned to the west coast for what would be his final season in the majors. He played for the Giants. Another future Hall of Famer, Willie McCovey said of Snider, ‘He was just an all around first class guy.’

Duke retired after the 64 season. He ended his career with 407 HR’s, a 295 career batting average and 1333 RBI’s. He was an 8 time All-Star, winner of 2 World Series’ and was enshrined in Cooperstown in 1980.

By the 1980’s, the premier LH power hitter for The Boys of Summer had to make appearances at Baseball card shows where he charged for his autograph. He had very little in savings, did not earn a lot as a player and had made some bad investments over the years. In 1995, Snider plead guilty for Tax Evasion. He had failed to report $97,000 he made while appearing at card shows. Sentence was handed down at the Brooklyn Federal Court House, just blocks from where Ebbets Field once stood.

Edwin Donald ‘Duke’ Snider passed away earlier today. He leaves behind 4 children, his wife Beverly, whom he married in his rookie year of 1947 and throngs of fans who idolized him. Snider was the last surviving member of the 1955 Dodgers who were on the field when they won their one and only championship.

It was the early 1970’s and I knew nothing about Baseball. But still, I was going to root for the Yankees. Why? As my dad watched the local news one night the sports came on. I was close by, doing whatever a typical 6 year old does. The Yankees catcher, Thurman Munson, did something or other. My ears perked up. I was only 6 and I didn’t hear ‘Thurman Munson’ but instead heard ‘Herman Munster,’ the father on the old TV show, The Munsters. That settled it. Herman Munster plays for the Yankees!!! How cool is that?

My Yankee loyalty lasted all of maybe 5 minutes. At 6 years old, I was not ready to live on the streets in The Bronx. My father made it clear he would not live under the same roof as a Yankee fan. And so it began. My somewhat-initially-blackmailed allegiance to the Mets.

At 7, my father taught me not just the game but the ‘game within the game.’ I fell in love immediately with the beauty, magic and wonderment of this thing called Baseball, a love that has lasted for over 35 years now. I soon learned that you can actually SEE these games live, not just on TV. It was Helmet Day when I first came upon this huge stadium in Flushing. I’d never seen anything so big, so massive. It was like the Roman Coliseum–but in Queens. “They play in there???” Walking in, I’d never seen grass so green. I’d never seen so many people gathered in one place for the same reason; To root the Mets to victory over the Expos. But it was unseasonably cold, very windy and overcast. This was my very first ballgame and if I was to catch a cold my mom would never let my dad take me to Shea ever again! So, I followed as my dad talked to this guy, talked to that guy, talked to some other guy. Next thing I knew we were sitting in the Press Box, just 2 booths down from the broadcast booth. I was maybe 25 feet away from Lindsey Nelson, Ralph Kiner and Bob Murphy. We went to another game later that year. Imagine the horror I felt having to sit with ‘regular’ fans. Doesn’t every kid get to sit in the Press Box?

The year was 1973, a good first year. I wore my little Mets hat and my little Mets jacket every day. But as the season wore down and the Mets appeared to be going nowhere, floundering in last place, my classmates, who were mostly Yankee fans, teased me. I cant even remember how many times I came home from school after being picked on all day, only to get reassurance from my seemingly all-knowing father. ‘We’re gonna win, right Dad?’ “Sure, Don’t worry about it,” he confidently told me. “Okay, good.” And I walked away. My mom turned to my dad and asked, “What will you tell him if they don’t?” “I’ll worry about it then.” As the Mets made a miraculous September run and won the Pennant, I wondered to myself if somehow, someway, my dad maybe…did something.

My dad always has been an optimist when it comes to the Mets. As he taught me the game, he advised me, ‘The Mets NEVER lose. Sometimes we just run out of innings.’ He went to the 2^nd game the Mets ever played, a 4-3 loss to Pittsburgh at the Polo Grounds. He was also in attendance on Father’s Day 1964. The game moved to the 9^th inning and Jim Bunning was one out away from throwing only the 5^th Perfect Game in history. Mets fans cheered the Phillies pitcher, hoping to witness one of Baseball’s rarest feats. But not my father. He was still cheering for his Mets. When someone next to him asked, ‘Don’t you want to tell people you were at a Perfect Game?’, my dad responded, “No, I’d rather tell them I was at the Perfect Game that got broken up with 2 outs in the 9^th.” As recent as 2006, when the Mets moved into 1^st place, I’d wake up every day to an e-mail from my dad that was counting down the Magic Number. 94, 93, 92 (yes, he started that early.)

Like most kids, my relationship with my dad has not been great. Better then some, worse then others. He’s disagreed with many decisions I’ve made in my life; jobs, career, girls, even to this day how I drive. But the one thing we could always come back to was Baseball. And the Mets. But even that has caused some disagreements. My dad insists the 69 team was better then the 86 club. My dad loves David Wright, but he will never be as good a 3b-man as Ed Charles in 69. While Endy’s catch was great, it was ‘No Agee.’ No matter how great Johan is, Koosman will always be the best LHP in our history.

Before I was even born it had been predetermined that I would root for this team. My father had been a Brooklyn Dodger fan, just like his father. This love for NY NL Baseball went back to the 1920’s. While New York was in awe of Ruth and Gehrig, my grandfather was a Dodgers fan rooting for guys like Zack Wheat and Dazzy Vance. When my dad was old enough, he too kept up the family tradition and became a Brooklyn fan. Although it’s been close to 60 years since ‘The Shot Heard Round The World,’ my dad still refers to the Giants OF-er not as Bobby Thomson but as ‘Bobby *^%$@# Thomson.’ To this day, my dad insists the final called strike in Don Larsen’s Perfect Game in the 56 series against Brooklyn was ‘outside.’

The year was 1957 when the Dodgers and Giants vacated New York for the barren wasteland of California 3000 miles away. The heart of every little boy in NY was broken, including my dad’s. It was not until 1962 when NL baseball returned to NY with our Mets. But in those 5 years, my dad’s life had changed. He graduated high school, started college, met my mom and got married. He went from a teenage boy to adulthood. But when it was announced that a new team would be created named The Metropolitans, shortened to Mets, my dad immediately became a fan, as did many old Dodgers and Giants fans.

My dad looked at the 1962 Opening Day roster and, as always, felt confident that we could finish at .500. His dad, my grandfather, followed the Mets, but never really became a fan. He had rooted for Brooklyn for 40+ years. But by 1962, he was becoming older and his health was failing. After rooting for Duke, Gil, Jackie, Roy and Pee Wee, it was hard to get enthused about Choo Choo Coleman, Felix Mantilla and Marvelous Marv.

My dad tried to convince his dad that this new team, the Mets, may be pretty good in a few years. He even joked, “Give it some time. Within a few years, we’ll be in the World Series.” My grandfather shook his head and nonchalantly commented, “I wont live to see it.” My grandfather’s innocent remark was correct. He passed away in May 1969.

To this day, my dad wonders if somehow, someway, maybe….

“You may glory in a team triumphant, but you fall in love with a team in defeat”

“Losing after great striving is the story of Man”

Roger Kahn, working for the New York Herald Tribune, was the beat writer for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1950s.  He covered them during the Dodgers glory days of Jackie Robinson, Roy Campanella, Duke Snider and Gil Hodges.  He witnessed and wrote about incredible pennant races, worlds series, personalities larger than life, and so much heartbreak for players and fans.

Kahn’s book, The Boys of Summer, inspired me to write this article.  I highly recommend reading this book during this winter’s respite from baseball games.

In both 1950 and 1951, the Dodgers lost the pennant in the final inning of the final game of the season.  This sounds eerily similar to the plight of the New York Mets in 2007 and 2008.  History does repeat itself.

In 1950, the Phillies were coasting to the NL pennant  They had a seven game lead over the Dodgers with eleven games left to play.  But the Phillies lost eight of their last ten entering the last game of the season.   As the two teams squared off against each other on the final day of the season at Shibe Park, the Phillies lead was down to one game.  With the score tied in the 9th inning, the Dodgers Cal Abrams led off with a double.  After a walk,  Duke Snider singled up the middle.  With no out, the 3rd base coach (who was fired after the season), waved Abrams home, and was easily thrown out.  The Dodgers failed to score.  In the bottom of the 10th, Dick Sisler hit a 3 run HR off of Don Newcombe.  The Dodgers and their fans had their hearts broken.

We are much more familiar with the heartbreak of 1951.  The Dodgers led the Giants by 13 games.  The Giants caught them and forced a playoff series (best 2 out of 3).  The Giants won game one in Brooklyn but the Dodgers responded with a win at the Polo Grounds.  The turning point of game two was when a fellow by the name of Bobby Thompson struck out with the bases loaded.  In game three, it happened so quickly.  A 4-1 Dodgers lead in the 9th.  Two singles and a double.  Ralph Branca was brought in.  The rest is history.

Players have hot streaks and slumps, bloops for hits and wicked line drives for outs.  No one remembers that Don Mueller had a seeing eye single past Gil Hodges in the 9th inning of game three or that Bobby Thompson’s home run barely traveled 300 feet.  One day Thompson strikes out and the next day he is the hero.

As Kahn said “choker and hero are two masks for the same plain face”. Did the Dodgers choke?  Did they lack courage or character?  Or were they just unlucky?  What is choking anyway.  As Pee Wee Reese said ” when you chew gum and saliva don’t come you’re choking”.  To me it sounds like everyone’s mouth gets dry when the pressure is on.  Puking before a game doesn’t imply choking.

The Dodgers remained defiant.  They did not choke.  Choking doesn’t exist.  It is imagined by the fans and media.  Pressure affects everyone.

Personally, and in this context, I despise the word “choke”.  It has no place in the dictionary of sports.  It is a sleazy and short-sighted way of not examining the true reasons behind failing.  Have you ever heard anyone claim that Gil Hodges or Duke Snider choked?  Yet numerous times they didn’t come through in the clutch during the Worlds Series.

I think that Brooklyn Dodgers history teaches us why we love the Mets so much.  It is psychological, but by no means a personality flaw or an indication of mental illness.  It is a sign of character and a testimonial to the quality of our existence that we can identify, sympathize, and commiserate with our beloved Mets.  Our cause is noble – we fall in love with the loser.  It is a justified essential trait that makes us better human beings.  Yankee fans, unfortunately for them are lacking this trait, and will never understand the wisdom of this argument.

The Jackie Robinson Rotunda.  The Ebbets Field resemblance.  The quirky right field.  Maybe the Wilpons have accurately defined our history by making CitiField a memorial to honor the Brooklyn Dodgers.  They were the Mets predecessors and when they left for L.A., like it or not, we inherited their history and legacy. The Mets were born and created in their image.  That is something to be proud of, and not forgotten.

Imagine if the Dodgers had moved to Queens.  We would all be New York Dodgers fans.  And what a proud history we would have.  We would have a dozen retired numbers.  The legacy of Robinson, Snider, Hodges, Campanella, Furillo, Reese, Newcombe and Branca would be genuinely ours to honor.

Many of us were Mets fans from the beginning.  Forty five years of the Mets memories at Shea Stadium are significant too.  They are just very different.  Let’s not measure them in wins and losses. Truly, nothing beats rooting for the New York Mets.  I feel lucky and proud to be a fan.