The funny thing is, I was talking to Joe D earlier that day about how I was going to groom my son to be the next great Mets catcher, and then found myself standing in front of that beautifully framed picture of Carter. I had been in that store many times in the past, and never have seen a picture of Carter.

People sometimes wonder what the big deal of owning an autographed picture of a great athlete is. Well, if you find the right piece of memorabilia, it should stir up some memories…

Only the good die young.

We hear that saying all the time, but for a man that carried the nickname “the Kid,” it couldn’t be truer. As I sit here and reflect on one of my childhood heroes, it’s hard to envision the 1986 Mets team that we hold so dear in our hearts, ever reaching the heights they did that season without Carter. He brought stability and leadership to a young and immature team that was in desperate need of guidance. The Mets may have only one World Series under their belts today if it wasn’t for the Mets bringing Carter in for the 1985 season. I think everyone that knows the story of the ’86 Mets would agree that (sorry for the cheesy line but) without No. 8, they would have never been great.

Carter was the only good guy portrayed in the book The Bad Guys Won, which chronicled the crazy journey of 1986 Mets. He has an entire chapter dedicated to himself. The chapter starts off by calling him a “geek.” Literally.

The reason people called him a geek was because if you lumped all the other Mets players in a tank, and the water that filled the tank was represented by all the drug use, womanizing, and alcohol they consumed, Carter was like a bead of oil sitting on top of the water.

He never cursed, never wore cool clothes, never drank alcohol, never smoked, never used illegal drugs or cheated on his wife. For these behaviors, he was alienated in the clubhouse, and labeled a “geek.” The truth is Carter wasn’t a “geek.” He wasn’t a “kid.” He was what we would consider a man in it’s truest form. He was a role model. He was who every parent hoped their child would grow up to be. Oh, and the man could play ball.

The picture in the mall that stirred the emotions.

I remember when I was in little league, I convinced my coach to move me from my main position of shortstop, where I was an all-star, to catcher. I wanted to strap on those shin guards for one reason: Gary Carter. I still had the No. 1 on my back because Ozzie Smith’s back flips and smooth shortstop play had me hooked, but I was behind the plate grinding it out every game because of Carter. And I mean I was grinding it out. I’m not sure how many of you have played catcher in little league, but it isn’t as easy as it seems on the T.V. screen.

The professional pitchers hardly ever throw the ball in the dirt. Little League pitchers, on the other hand, throw it in the dirt quite often. I was bruised up from blocking all the balls, but I stuck with it, and it wasn’t long before I was named an all-star at catcher too. I remember the umpires would thank me at the end of every game because I would block all the wild pitches, saving them from taking their usual beating behind the plate. Evidently that was a rarity at that age.

They really should have thanked Gary Carter. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have been back there blocking the balls that would normally giving them bruises. Carter was my favorite Mets player, but I eventually couldn’t take the abuse anymore that comes with blocking all those wild pitches. I ended up moving to the outfield to try and follow in the footsteps of my next childhood hero who also carried the nickname “the kid” – Ken Griffey Jr. I played the outfield all the way through college, and it earned me some tryouts for some major league teams, but I always regretted giving up on catching too soon.

I was a young boy during 1986, so I don’t remember much from that season. However, there are two moments that always stick out in my mind: the ball squibbling through Buckner’s legs in game six, and Gary Carter jumping into Jesse Orosco’s arms with that completely elated look on his face at the end of the ’86 World Series.

I also vaguely remember being at a game one summer night with my parents. At some point during the game, the umpire made a bad call. The three young men sitting in front of us decided to show the umpire how displeased they were with the call. First they got the umpire’s attention. Then they turned around very calmly, so that their backs were facing the field. After that, they dropped their pants in perfect unison, and proceeded to “moon” the umpire. Evidently, the 80s were a different time, because they didn’t get in trouble, but I can’t go to a Mets game without thinking about that moment.

Gary Carter will always be remembered as a great player (11 time All-Star and Hall of Famer), but he should also be remembered as a great man.  He showed us young Mets fans growing up how to play the game the way it was supposed to be played, and how to be a man, and not a “kid” like his nickname portrays him.

When looking back at that 1986 Mets team, it’s hard to believe that Carter was the youngest man to perish. With the way some of those Mets players abused their bodies with that indestructible feeling so many young men have, it’s amazing they haven’t experienced more health issues. It doesn’t seem fair that a person such as Carter was taken from us so young, especially when he lived his life in a manner that is said to provide us with longevity. I guess it must be true…the good really do die young.

We’ll always remember you No. 8…

While that is going to be the story taking over a lot of sports talk shows today, it cannot be ignored that Ken Griffey Jr. has decided to retire from Major League Baseball.

A few days ago, somebody posted a comment about how they root for Tim Lincecum. I quickly came to their defense because while we are Mets fans, we also should be baseball fans. I enjoy watching certain players play the game I love. They don’t have to wear a Mets uniform for me to want to see them have great success.

I was born in 1982, so what happened last night was arguably the end of an era for me as a baseball fan. Ken Griffey Jr. was my generation’s Mickey Mantle, or Willie Mays. Was he as good as them? You can debate that all you want, that’s not the point. The point is that for a while (1989-2000) you as a baseball fan always knew what Griffey Jr. was up to.

You paid attention to him, and sometimes watched in awe. He was the greatest Centerfield to ever play the game during my lifetime. He’d make the impossible, look probable. He was as true of a 5-tool player as you could and possibly ever will find in the sport again.

Who can forget him scoring on Edgar Martinez’s double versus the Yankees which was most likely the biggest moment in Seattle Mariners history? Griffey Jr. will also be remembered for going back-to-back HR with his father in Seattle. I mean, can you get any more perfect than that?

No matter where he played, you always had a sinking feeling in your gut when you’d hear that Junior suffered another injury. If only he had stayed healthy for just two or three more full seasons in his prime, he would’ve officially gone into the record books as the greatest HR hitter of all time.

Baseball has changed since Junior started to fade away. Now, Albert Pujols is the best player in the game, but he’ll never have the national recognition that Griffey had until/unless Pujols breaks the HR Record. Griffey didn’t have to do that. He played the game with a smile, he played the game better than anybody on the field, and he played the game with class.

In an era that will forever be remembered for performance enhancing drugs, and lying to congress, and inflated HR totals, Ken Griffey Jr. has always been one of the few names that everybody agrees played the game clean. He was the best of an era of cheaters, and the one of the best baseball players who ever lived.

I know I’ll miss seeing the most perfect baseball swing I’ve ever witnessed. I look forward to the day when he is enshrined where he belongs, in Cooperstown.

We all wouldn’t be Mets fans if we didn’t love baseball, and I wouldn’t love baseball as much had I never witnessed Ken Griffey Jr. play. Thank you Junior Griffey!

It was the same when Alex Rodriguez admitted he lied and that he did in fact use steroids.

When two big players such as A-Rod and Manny Ramirez get thrust into the performance enhancing drugs controversy, it’s going to become a tabloid-like, National Enquirer-esque sensation.

The rumors of PED use had already been tied to both these players for quite some time. Jose Canseco mentioned both Ramirez and A-Rod as being cheaters. As despicable a person as Canseco is, he’s shown a remarkable accuracy in singling out the offenders, so while yesterday’s news may have a shock to it, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

I wondered which players would really shock me if they were found to test positive for steroid use or PED’s…

The one name that immediately jumps out at me is Ken Griffey Jr.

I think if he were to fail a drug test, it would truly be the most shocking and surprising revelation of them all. He remains the most credible and trustworthy of all the recent additions to the 500 homerun club. He still maintains that wholesome youthfulness and enthusiasm  that endeared him to so many over the years.

Derek Jeter is another player who would send shockwaves through baseball if he were ever caught.

What players would totally blow you away if they were caught using Performance Enhancing Drugs?

I’ll also be polling my Twitter followers today and I will share those results tonight.