The Mets destroyed Philadelphia, showing no brotherly love for their division rivals in a 13-3 romp.  Although many players performed well for the Mets that day (Hubie Brooks, Lee Mazzilli and Joel Youngblood had three hits apiece and Dave Kingman hit a grand slam), it was Mookie Wilson who captured my attention and made me thankful that we weren’t a remote control household.  Mookie reached base four times that day (two hits, two walks).  He also scored three runs and drove in two.  After leading off the game with a walk, Mookie proceeded to swipe second and scored the first of the Mets’ four runs in that inning.  It was the first time I had been exposed to Mookie’s baserunning abilities, and I was utterly amazed.  Six innings later, Mookie crushed a long drive to center off former Met Tug McGraw that went for a two-run triple.  His gazzelle-like speed mesmerized the eight-year-old me to the point where I checked the TV guide (I had to get off the couch eventually) for when the next Mets game was going to be aired on WOR.

Less than three weeks after discovering Mookie and the Mets, baseball went on strike.  For two months, I couldn’t indulge in my new passion – my New York Mets passion, that is.  Fortunately, my father recovered from his illness and we were able to have many barbecues to pass the time during baseball’s two-month hiatus.  Baseball returned to my TV screen in August, and I quickly eschewed burgers and hot dogs on the grill for Mookie and the Mets on my grill.

Run, Mookie, Run!

Although my father hails from Puerto Rico, an island paradise that loves its baseball, he has never been much of a sports fan.  He knows the object of the game, but can’t differentiate between an infield fly and an unzipped fly.  So naturally, you can imagine how difficult it was for me to get him to take me to a Mets game at Shea Stadium.  Every conversation would start the same way (“We’re not doing anything this weekend, right?  Can you get us tickets for this game?”) and unfortunately, they would also end the same way (“No.”).  It took over two years for me to finally make it out to Shea to meet the Mets, meet the Mets, step right up and greet the Mets.  And when I did, it was because my Little League team went as a group.  The date was June 15, 1983 – thirty years ago today – and it became a memorable day not just for the then ten-year-old me, but for all Mets fans.

When we got to the game, I remember how disappointed I was that Mookie Wilson was not in the starting lineup (Danny Heep took Mookie’s place as the leadoff hitter and centerfielder for the game.  It was only the second time all year that Mookie wasn’t in the starting lineup for the Mets.)  My fleet-footed hero didn’t start, but Craig Swan did, taking the mound for the Mets against future Hall-of-Famer Ferguson Jenkins.  Unfortunately, Swan was not graceful that night.  By the time I got back from my second bathroom break in the second inning (my Little League teammates were not amused that I kept stepping on their feet every time I tried to squeeze by them in our upper deck seats), Swan was out of the game and the Mets were down 4-0.

The bullpen pitched very well after Swan’s early exodus and the Mets rallied to tie the game.  Mookie did pinch-hit in the fifth inning, but struck out against Jenkins, denying me the opportunity to see him fly around the bases.  Of course, his one-day replacement in center field, Danny Heep, followed Wilson’s strikeout with the game-tying hit, causing my Little League teammates to tease me by saying that Heep was going to be the centerfielder of the future.  I’m glad they were wrong.

Neither team scored after Heep knotted the game, necessitating extra innings and causing some of the parents and chaperones to wonder if they should take the kids home.  They decided to stick around for the tenth, but told us all that if the game went to the 11th, we would have to leave.  We did get to see the game to its conclusion, but it wasn’t the conclusion I wanted.  The Mets lost the game to the Chicago Cubs in ten innings by the score of 7-4.  An error by first baseman Rusty Staub and a timely bunt by Bill Buckner set the Cubs up for their big inning and my bigger disappointment.  But errors by Mets’ first basemen were about to become a thing of the past, thanks to a brilliant trade engineered by general manager Frank Cashen.

A Gold Glove, a sweet swing, a killer ‘stache.  Keith Hernandez had it all.

Earlier in the evening, the Mets announced that they had acquired first baseman Keith Hernandez from the defending World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals in a trade for pitchers Neil Allen and Rick Ownbey.  I remember how happy the sparse crowd of 11,631 was when the announcement was flashed on DiamondVision.  I also remember how confused I was that the biggest cheer of the night was reserved for the “big TV screen in left field” rather than the events taking place on the field.  But as the years went by and my love of the Mets grew, I realized just how special Keith Hernandez truly was, both as a player and as a team leader.

As you all know, the trade for Keith Hernandez set off a chain of events that led to a World Series title three years later (a World Series that turned my man Mookie into a Mets legend for all time).  Hernandez’s arrival gave instant credibility to the languishing franchise, although it took until the following season for that off-the-field credibility to translate into on-the-field wins.

In hindsight, it didn’t matter that the Mets lost on June 15, 1983.  It was one of 94 games they lost that season anyway.  That day was important to me for more than just a game.  That day began my love affair with Shea Stadium and my subsequent appreciation of Keith Hernandez.  I should have known the Mets had acquired someone special when I listened to the sweet voice of Bob Murphy after the game during the radio post-game show when he said “the Mets lost the game tonight, but they have gained a superstar.”  Thirty years ago today, the magic that was the Mets entered my life.  It has never left.

“It’s always good planning to have a baseball in the dugout with shoe polish on it, just in case.”

That is the expression coined following the infamous Shoe Polish incident, when in Game 5 of the 1969 World Series, Cleon Jones hit the deck to evade a Dave McNally pitch that skidded into the Mets dugout, only to be retrieved by Mets skipper Gil Hodges to reveal a smudge of shoe polish, awarding Jones first base and eventually leading to a Mets victory and clinching their first World Series title in franchise history.

The incident capped off one of most incredible World Series upsets in baseball history. The Miracle Mets, just months prior labeled the lovable losers of baseball, needed just five games to best Earl Weaver’s 109-win Baltimore Orioles and become champions.

I spoke to one of those mighty 1969 Orioles, last week at the MLB Draft regarding this controversial moment in Mets history; Hall-of-Famer Frank Robinson, and he did not hesitate to speak his mind on the subject.

“It had to be [a trick],” said Robinson, amid applause after Bud Selig announced the selection of the Rangers thirtieth overall pick, Travis Demeritte roughly 100 feet away. “People forget the length of time that ball went into the dugout before Gil Hodges brought it out to show it to the umpire.

“That ball didn’t go into the dugout with black shoe polish on it, but it came out with black shoe polish on it,” He said.

Several different Met accounts have come out over the years including Ron Swaboda claiming that the pitch hit an open bag of balls, spilling identical baseballs all over the dugout, one of which Gil picked up that had a black mark on it. Of the most recent claims was Jerry Koosman, who in 2009 stated that Hodges instructed him to rub the ball on his shoe, however neither accounts put to rest whether the pitch actually hit Jones, a truth that will likely never be known for sure.

Although even if Jones wasn’t awarded first base in Game 5, Robinson doesn’t believe it would have made all that great of a difference in the outcome of the game or the series.

“The Mets deserved to win, they did what they had to to win,” said Robinson. “I still watch it on classic sports and I still don’t believe we lost.”

Like Robinson, many were in disarray at the fact that the lowly New York Mets, just seven years into existence, stood atop the baseball world. After their improbable comeback to beat out the Chicago Cubs for the division crown, they had an even greater upset of the Orioles and the ‘Bird’s Big Four’ in stunning fashion. Robinson recalls what he found most impressive of the Mets in that series.

“They got contributions from everybody, the little guys we used to call them, and they did what they had to do,” said Robinson almost begrudgingly. “They also had some great pitching.”

Despite his high praise of the team, it was clear that the Miracle Mets to this day are still not Robinson’s favorite subject as he brought the conversation of the Amazin’s to an abrupt close.

“That’s all I’ve got to say about ‘69.”

The legend of the 1969 Mets lives on to this day as one of the greatest Cinderella stories in the game’s history, who with the help of a little shoe-polished baseball, were able to put National League baseball in New York back on the map with their first World Series title.

Bill Madden of the Daily News with the sobering reality most Met fans probably don’t want to hear:

There were 21,747 gluttons for punishment at Citi Field Sunday for the conclusion of another Mets-Marlins series, which now qualify for the worst baseball on the planet. Not satisfied with having tortured their fans for 20 innings of record-tying ineptitude the day before, the Mets lost in similar fashion — just not so long in doing it — and when it was over, when they had gone another 2-for-8 with runners in scoring position, on top of the 0-for-19 the day before that equaled the worst performance of clutch hitting by a team in the last 50 years, and gotten one infield hit after David Wright’s two-run double in the third inning, it was as if Alderson and Collins couldn’t wait another minute to start shipping the bums out of here.

I was asked what I thought about the moves and as I asserted in my report on it yesterday this won’t change anything in Flushing.

This is not the cavalry coming and it’s more like bringing in a few pallbearers to put the 2013 season to rest. None of the players coming in can be classified as upgrades.

As Madden also pointed out in his article, the problem is, the changes made Sunday are all internal changes and, internally, the Mets don’t have any players at Triple-A who are much better than the ones they’re sending out.

Since the end of last season I’ve been harping on the Mets needing to bring in at least one position player from the outside for the rebuild process to work. The Mets have no outfielders that are close or that you would call a keeper. Even top pick Brandon Nimmo is still in A-Ball since being drafted in 2011 and the word is that’s exactly where he will stay for the rest of this season. Gavin Cecchini is still in extended spring training and awaiting short season baseball to begin. The Mets took another position player in last week’s draft in Dominic Smith and he’ll be at least 4-5 years away – with all due respect to his mother who has much higher aspirations. Such is the love of a mother.

Anyone who thinks we can be a playoff contender on the strength of pitching alone and a purely homegrown roster is misguided, misinformed and are clueless as to the dearth of position players in our system even after three Sandy Alderson drafts.

The San Francisco Giants wouldn’t have won a World Series without Angel Pagan and Hunter Pence. The St. Louis Cardinals wouldn’t have a 2011 World Series banner without Matt Holliday‘s seven year mega-deal and wouldn’t be the best team in baseball today without giving Carlos Beltran $13 million a season.  No need for me to mention the 2009 Yankees, the 2008 Phillies, and the 2007 Red Sox, and how all three won their World Series, right?

It takes quality to get quality. We don’t get Zack Wheeler if lets say a player like Collin Cowgill or Andres Torres was the return. It took an all star caliber talent like Carlos Beltran to land him. It took a reigning Cy Young winner to bring in Travis d’Arnaud. You don’t get something for nothing…

It’s going to take a Zack Wheeler or someone like him to bring back the legitimate bat in the outfield that this team so desperately needs. Get that into your heads.

(Photo Credit: Ron Antonelli)

DOC

A Memoir

By Dwight Gooden and Ellis Henican 

In the mid 1980’s no pitcher was more feared and more dominant than the Mets young superstar, Dwight “Doc” Gooden. Gooden arrived in New York in 1984 as a shy nineteen year old from Tampa and became a pitching sensation overnight, Times Square even held an 105 foot mural of Doc on the mound. His first season he was named Rookie of the year; his second, he won 25 games, earning the Triple Crown and one of the most prestigious awards in baseball: the Cy Young Award.

The Mets loved him, New York loved him, and at the age of 20 with a 98-mph fastball he had cemented himself in baseball history. In 1986 when the Mets won the World Series, Gooden’s life would change forever. Instead of celebrating with his teammates at the Tickertape parade, he watched them on TV, bleary-eyed, drunk and high. For the next 25 years Gooden battled alcoholism and drug addiction while his life and career spun out of control.

With fresh and sober eyes, Dwight Gooden shares the most intimate moments of his successes and failures, from three World Series rings to endless self-destructive drug binges in his brutally honest memoir DOC written with Ellis Henican.

Taking accountability for his actions, both on and off the field, Gooden holds nothing back. He reveals the hidden traumas in his close-knit Tampa family; the thrill and pressure of being a young shy baseball prodigy in New York; the raucous days and nights with the Mets’ bad boys; the drug binges and arrests; his comeback with the Yankees; the heartbreaking attempts at getting sober; the senseless damage to family and friends; and the unexpected way he finally saved his life—on VH1’s Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew.

Gooden details his close friendships with many of baseball’s greats: Pete Rose, George Steinbrenner, Joe Torre and nephew Gary Sheffield. For the first time ever, he reveals the real story of his troubled relationship with fellow Mets superstar Darryl Strawberry. Intimate and vulnerable, Gooden tells the moving story of the Yankees no-hitter he pitched for his dying dad and the complicated and at times estranged relationships he has had with his own children.

A story of family, baseball, of talent squandered by the disease of addiction, and of the long road to getting clean, DOC is a riveting baseball memoir by one of the game’s most fascinating figures, and an inspiring story for anyone who has faced tough challenges in life.

As you would expect, the book contains large chunks of his time with the Mets and details the 1986 Mets clubhouse which was known as much for their antics off the field as well as on. Gooden shares what it was like and the real story of why he missed the 1986 World Series Victory Parade in New York City.

ON SALE NOW!

A brutally honest memoir of baseball, family, addiction and the long road to getting and staying clean by one of the greatest pitchers of all time

“Dwight Gooden’s directness, rarely seen in athlete-penned memoirs, distinguishes this book.”
— Publishers Weekly

“How could you not like Dwight Gooden? There is no way. His disease took so much from him. He lost everything. And in spite of that, he is having this glorious recovery. He understands what’s really important in life –your family, your relationships, getting right with God, doing what you need to. He gets that now. It makes his story that much more tragic –and that much more inspiring.”

— Dr. Drew Pinsky 

 “The young Dwight Gooden was as beautiful to watch as any pitcher I have ever seen. The question seemed to be not whether he would make the Hall of fame but where he would rank among the very greatest pitchers who ever lived. In Doc, Gooden honestly confronts how and why the story didn’t quite turn out that way.”
— Bob Costas

The Mets have drafted 72 outfielders in the first 5 rounds (top 100 picks) during the 48 year history of the MLB draft. Of those 72, 18 made it to the majors.

Of those 18, six of them enjoyed what can only be described as cups of coffee with a variety of teams. They were, John Gibbons (24th overall 1980), John Christensen (38th overall 1981), Terry Blocker (4th overall 1981), Stan Jefferson (20th overall 1983), Rod Gaspar (40th overall 1967), Ike Blessitt (56th overall 1967).

Seven had careers as back-ups or bench players:

Lastings Milledge: (12th overall 2003) A toolsy outfielder out of Bradenton, Florida, once ranked as the best 16 year old player in the nation by Baseball America. He was considered by many a top three pick who fell to 12th overall because of a history of sexual misconduct. Lastings was much maligned in the Met clubhouse for his enthusiasm on the field and his choice of music in the clubhouse and was eventually traded to the Nationals. His best season was 2008 with the Nationals when he hit 14 homers and had 61 RBI’s. He is currently playing with the Yahult Swallows in Japan.

Jason Tyner: (21st overall 1998) Speedy outfielder out of Texas A& M was traded to the Rays and had one good season with them when he stole 31 bases in 105 games and hit .280. With various stints with Minnesota and Cleveland in the ensuing years he mostly bounced back and fort from AAA to the majors as a back-up.

Jay Payton: (29th overall 1992) Spent several seasons after being traded by the Mets as a 4^th outfielder bench player type. Had a couple of seasons as a regular and one really good season (2003) with Colorado when he hit 28 home runs with .302 average, but never really established himself anywhere.

Shawn Abner: (1st overall 1984) Labeled a “can’t miss” prospect, Shawn never played up to his potential and was eventually traded to San Diego in the Kevin McReynolds deal where he played occasionally. His best season was 1992 with the White Sox when he hit .279 in 208 at bats.

Kal Daniels: (58th overall 1982 but did not sign with the Mets in the January phase, signed with Cincinatti in the June phase). Had a couple of pretty good seasons with Cincinnati and one excellent season with the Dodgers when he hit 27 home runs and had 94 RBI with a .296 average.

Herm Winningham: (9th overall 1981) – became a useful bench player and pinch hitter over several seasons with Montreal / Cincinnati.

Randy Milligan: (3rd overall 1981) several seasons of 20 or more doubles, one 20 home run season (1990) with the Orioles. Walked a lot — had a career OBP of .391 – but otherwise unremarkable.

Only five Mets first round selections out of 72 ended up as All-Stars:

Lee Mazzilli: (14th overall 1973) His best seasons were 1979 and 1980, he got on base, stole bases (41 steals in 1989), and had decent pop with 15 and 16 home runs respectively in those two seasons. Mazzilli was an All-Star in 1979 and was the best player on the Mets for several of the dark late 70’s years otherwise I would have probably included him in the former primarily “back-up” list — he became more well known as a pinch hitter and bench player later in his career.

Darryl Strawberry: (1st overall 1980) Perennial All-Star MVP candidate. One of the greatest players of his generation. Central figure in outstanding Mets teams during the late 1980’s including the 1986 World Series winner. Greatest Right Fielder in club history.

Ken Singleton: (3rd overall 1967). Was traded in 1972 for Rusty Staub. Singleton went on to be a perennial middle of the order All-Star with Montreal and Baltimore. Ended up with 246 career homers and 1065 RBI’s over a 15 year Major League career. Singleton was part of the Baltimore Orioles 1983 World Series winner.

Jeromy Burnitz: (17th overall 1990) Solid Major League outfielder with good power and decent defense mostly with the Brewers. Had 5, 30 + homer seasons and 4 seasons of 100 or more RBI.

Todd Hundley: (39th overall 1987) drafted as an outfielder, Hundley spent most of his career as a catcher. had two All Star seasons and one MVP caliber season (1996), During the height of the steroid era his power jumped from 16 and 15 home runs in 1994 and 1995 to 40 and 30 home runs respectively in 1996 and 1997. Hundley was featured prominently in the Mitchel report as both a user of steroids and a person known for connecting other players with means and access to PED’s.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

In the 48 years since the draft was first instituted, the Mets have drafted five outfielders in the first five rounds who ended up having careers as Major League regulars. Four when you consider one was really a catcher. 48 years, 4 players. That’s one player every 12 years.

David Schoenfield of ESPN recently pointed out that the last time the Mets drafted an all star was 2002 (Scott Kazmir). Prior to that you have David Wright in 2001 and then you have to go back to Bobby Jones, who was drafted in 1991.  People talk a lot about spending on free agents, but when you look at teams who’ve spent recently, the Yankees, the Angels, and the Dodgers, you realize spending big on free agents doesn’t guarantee anything in today’s game. The Mets, as a team, are not struggling solely because they haven’t spent on free agency, they’re struggling because they haven’t drafted well. Teams are becoming better at locking up young exceptional players to long term deals and free agency no longer provides the panacea of talent it once did.

If the Mets are to build a winner they have to do it through the draft, and historically Met drafts have been littered with busts and question marks, particularly in the outfield. The Mets could help themselves tremendously if they pick the right players in today’s draft. I like Hunter Renfroe for his power and defense and as a college player he could progress quickly. Austin Wilson might be a good one, Aaron Judge is another with a huge presence (6’7″) and massive power potential. I also like Billy McKinney for his outstanding bat speed. We should have a shot at at least one of these guys.

Whomever the Mets select today and tomorrow, if they are to field a competitive team in the next few years they’re going to need some decent young outfielders, and relying on free agency may not provide the quality and consistency a championship team requires. A case in point, next year’s free agent outfield pool is headlined by the likes of Hunter Pence and Shin-Soo Choo … decent players to be sure, but not exactly game-changers.

You could go the trade rout, but trades are always a risk as you have to give to get, and given the current Mets farm system, the Mets would almost certainly be giving up pitching talent — something I’d be hesitant to do when you consider pitching is what wins in the playoffs and good pitching is exceedingly hard to come by. Nope, if the Mets want to develop a championship caliber outfield I think the best bet is to focus on drafting some solid outfielders … a scary premise historically for the Mets.

He would throw out the first pitch of the game and, ironically, throw the last, as the Mets actually scored two runs on three hits in the bottom of ninth. In the wake of the Mets’ win streak, fans actually have something to relatively excited about.

This is great news for the owners, who over the past couple of seasons have experienced financial losses. This win streak may butts in the seats, they might be able to turn a profit. This is an excellent time to capitalize on the momentum created  by this recent stretch.

So what does COO Jeff Wilpon do?He did what any other professional sports administrator would do, he mocked his team and their chances at the World Series.

While honoring Mariano, Jeff Wilpon, speaking to Mariano, said “Wish we could see you in the World Series, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen.” Rivera, always being a professional, said “You never know.”

Strictly dissecting what he said, nothing he said was particularly wrong. There were very low expectations of this year’s club, with the general consensus being that they would finish second to last, only because the Marlins exist. Furthermore, their lack of spending on free agents, even middle-tier players, indicated that this season was planned to be a “bring up the kids year”.

However, him going out and explicitly stating something like this publicly is absolutely ridiculous. In my opinion, this just shows the difference between the two New York ballclubs. If you ever heard anything like this from Yankees upper management it would be considered preposterous and outrage from the fan base would ensue. The Yankees aim to win no matter the odds. A perfect example is that Jeter, A-Rod, Granderson, Teixeira, and other top players have missed the majority if not the entire season. Do you hear the Yanks complaining? No. Sure they acknowledge their absences, but they still go out and play and expect to win.

This is a fundamental difference between the organizations. The Mets are selling this season to us as a rebuilding year – as a season that was lost before it ever started. What incentive is there as a fan to go buy a ticket to a game? Would you buy a product whose maker does not believe in it? No, you would not.

Another thing, what does Wilpon gain from saying this?. Perhaps, it was just a passing joke. But being in a major market, especially New York, scrutiny of every comment and move is to be expected. No he is not wrong, but he still should have not said it.

According to TiqIQ, the average ticket price for this year’s All-Star Game at Citi Field currently checks in at a whopping $1,052.53 dollars. While prices will almost certainly decline as the game approaches, this still figures to be the most expensive MLB All-Star Game ticket of the past four years.

Currently, this year’s game carries an 82% premium over last year’s game at Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City, which had an attendance of 40,933. Citi Field’s stated capacity is 45,000, and seating is typically expanded for events such as the All-Star Game (for example, Kauffman Stadium has a stated capacity of 27,000). With an average ticket price of nearly double that of last year’s game despite far more tickets available, this year’s All-Star Game carries unprecedented demand.

2012 Kaufman Stadium = $576.96

2013 Citi Field = $1,052.53 (82% premium over 2012)

Back in 2011, the last time a National League venue hosted the All-Star Game, ticket prices reached a low point in recent times. With Chase Field filled to its 49,033 seat capacity, average ticket prices checked in at just $294.33 dollars. This year’s All-Star Game tickets price over 2.5x higher than those of 2011 in Arizona, with a similar quantity slated to be sold.

2011 Chase Field = $294.33

2013 Citi Field = $1,052.53 (258% premium over 2011)

Even with a substantial decline in price between now and July 16, Citi Field will still become the most expensive All-Star Game of the past four years. Currently, that title is held by Angel Stadium of Anaheim back in 2010. Filled beyond capacity, Angel Stadium sold 45,408 tickets which traded at an average price of $594.23 dollars on the secondary market. Tickets for the Citi Field game currently hold a ridiculous 77% premium over those of the second priciest recent All-Star Game. Needless to say, demand for the Midsummer Classic in New York is certainly very high. Get your MLB All-Star tickets with PrimeSport.

2010 Angel Stadium = $594.23

2011 Chase Field = $294.33

2012 Kaufman Stadium = $576.96

2013 Citi Field = $1,052.53

After a 13-year stretch of American League All-Star Game dominance in which the AL went 12-0-1, the National League has taken three straight Midsummer Classics. Despite the AL’s dominance throughout the 2000s, going into this year’s game, the National League holds a 43-38 advantage of the American League. Winning the All-Star Game has indeed been of crucial importance in baseball since the tie of 2002 led to the rule change giving the winning league home field advantage for the World Series. In the 10 years since the rule change, the team with home field has gone 7-3 in the World Series. For three years running, that team has come from the National League.

This week Cincinnati came to town. Now, imagine for a moment, if as you walked into Citi Field you were handed a ballot where you could choose which Reds you would want playing that day. Safe to say, we Mets fans would probably decide that Brandon Phillips, Joey Votto and Jay Bruce deserve a day off. We could have Jack Hannahan bat clean-up. Johnny Cueto? Are you kidding me? Of course not.

Why would we do this? The answer is obvious. We want our Mets to win.

Now, of course that would never happen. When do fans get to pick their opponent’s team? Unless, it’s the All-Star Game.

Growing up and becoming a fan in the 1970’s, the Mid-Summer Classic was a highlight of the season for me. It gave me a chance to see my baseball cards come to life. The game was steeped in tradition. It showcased the top talent in the game. It was an opportunity for America to see the best and brightest from each league battle for ‘bragging rights.’

We had the opportunity to see dream match-ups that only existed in Strat-O-Matic. We could watch our own Tom Seaver try to fan Rod Carew, a young cocky Roger Clemens trying to sneak a fast ball by Tony Gwynn, Charlie Hustle digging in against Catfish or Rickey Henderson challenging the arm of Dave Parker. Yes, this is what the All-Star Game was. And what it is meant to be.

As we all know the game regrettably has changed. League loyalty is gone. Not only do players not stay with one team for most of their career, but they have no qualms about switching leagues. Guys like George Brett, Mike Schmidt, Reggie Jackson, Jim Palmer, Willie Mays and countless others never would have dreamed about ‘crossing over.’ Nowadays, however, one doesn’t have to look far. Pujols, Cabrera, Fielder, Beckett, A-Gon have all switched.

And that’s fine. But in the midst of this, league loyalty fades away.

Yet, in 2003, Bud Selig elected to add a disturbing nuance to the ASG when he decided that the winner of a ‘meaningless’ game in July determines who has home field advantage for the World Series.

Obviously, thanks to the commissioner, the contest is no longer a simple platform to display the top stars. The game now has major significance, huge importance. The All-Star Game has a direct outcome on who may become World Champions. Since the inception of this rule a decade ago, the league that won the All-Star Game has gone on to win the World Series 7 out of 10 times. And the last four in a row. (The only exceptions were the 03 Marlins, 06 Cardinals and 08 Phillies.)

Now, being a NL fan, I obviously want the NL to win. And since this is the case, explain to me why I should vote for the top stars from the AL. Are you joking? I’m rooting for the NL—But yet I am supposed to vote for Miguel Cabrera and Albert Pujols and Dustin Pedroia and Torii Hunter??? The heck with that! I’m going to vote for the worst hitters I can find, some guy from Seattle or Kansas City I never heard of. I’m supposed to vote for Ian Kinsler or Howie Kendrick when Cleveland’s Jason Kipnis is on the ballot? Come on people. Get real.

And since Commissioner Selig has turned this exhibition game into something of great significance, I, as a NL fan, want the best NL-ers out there. Since the point is to win, why does every need need to be represented? Why does every player need to get one at-bat? Why are the managers equally concerned with making sure every player gets in the game as they are with winning the game? Since the purpose is to win, I better see Buster Posey and Bryce Harper out there the entire night. I want to see Kershaw for 8 and Romo to close it out.

When Giants manager Bruce Bochy set his line-up for game 4 of the World Series last year, he didn’t decide that perhaps Pablo Sandoval needed a day off. He didn’t elect to give Posey a rest and put Hector Sanchez behind the plate. He put his best team on the field. Why? Because it was a must-win game…just like the All-Star Game has become.

Now, of course, this would never happen. Dodger fans would be up in arms (and rightfully so) if their ace “wasted” a start in the “meaningless” All-Star Game. But really, how meaningless is it?

So, as a Baseball fan, I will vote for the 2013 All-Star Game. But as a Mets fan, and as a fan of the National League, I will be voting for the worst the American League has to offer. And I will continue to do so until Selig reinstates the Mid-Summer Classic to what it was and what it should be: A traditional setting where fans could sit back and enjoy the best our National Pastime has to offer.

There are many adjectives that are used in conjunction with the 86 Mets. Confidence. Arrogance. Swagger. Obnoxious. But they were good, damn good. And they knew it. That’s a far cry from the 2013 Mets.

However, it’s not just wins that count. It’s playing as a cohesive unit. It’s playing as, no pun intended, a TEAM. And that is something this club does not do. You don’t have to get along off the field. You don’t even have to like it each other. But when you’re on that field, you play as a team. You fight as a team. The Jordany Valdespin situation shows in glaring fashion how incredibly dysfunctional this “team” is.

The 86 club was a bawling and brawling brazen bunch of ballplayers chasing women and partying. But there were exceptions. For all intents and purposes, Gary Carter was an outcast. He was a family man, religious and clean-cut. Heck, the guy was so pure he did a commercial for Ivory soap. Mookie Wilson was one of the longest tenured players on that club. Yet, he graciously accepted becoming a platoon player with Lenny Dykstra. Or moving to left. But yet, they won. 108 times. The 4th highest win total in the last 50 years.

That club had issues. No doubt about it. Darryl referred to Wally Backman as a “(expletive) redneck.” In his 1985 book, “Bats,” Davey Johnson referred to Dykstra as “an ***hole kind of guy.” When they were posing for their team picture in the spring of 1987, Keith Hernandez and Strawberry came to blows about seating proximity to Davey. What is this, 3^rd grade? But yet, on the field, they pulled together.

After being chided with chants of “Daaaah—ril” in Fenway, Straw answered back. In the 8^th inning of Game 7, it was he who hit a towering blast off of Al Nipper that was the final nail in the Sox coffin. And then he strolled around the bases in probably the longest HR trot in history. Confidence. Swagger. The following spring Nipper beaned Darryl. And the dugouts promptly emptied. Who else but the Mets could get in a bench-clearing brawl in spring training? Straw was not overly popular with some of his teammates. But they immediately came to his defense. Why? Because that’s what teams do. That’s what winners do.

When Valdespin gets set-up by his manager to get plunked, what do the 2013 Mets do? They sit on their ass. And then rub salt in the wound by condoning the actions of the Pirates.

This is a team?

Baseball is filled with players that did not get along off the field. But yet, they pulled together and they won. The Oakland A’s of the early 70s bickered constantly. Yet, they won 3 straight World Series. Barry Bonds and Jeff Kent loathed each other. But they put their differences aside and gave their team 2 division titles and 1 pennant over 6 seasons. Ruth and Gehrig were polar opposites who disapproved of the other’s lifestyle. Yet, the Yankees of the 1920’s and 30’s seemed to do okay. And how about ‘The Bronx Zoo’ of the late 70’s. Those guys not only clashed off the field but on the field. And in the dugout on national TV. When Reggie Jackson wasn’t avoiding being punched by Billy Martin, he was getting into it with Thurman Munson. Talk about a dysfunctional mess! But yet, the Yankees won 5 divisions, 4 pennants and 2 World Series over a 6 year span.

The Mets, meanwhile, bicker amongst themselves. Then, go out and lose.

Did Valdespin act bush league by hitting that HR and then showboating on a very small scale? Did he act inappropriately for a rookie? Personally, I don’t give a damn. He’s a New York Met and as such he should be defended by his, pardon the pun, “team” mates. Terry Collins set him up to get beaned. I guess we should be thankful Collins allowed him to wear a batting helmet.

Had any other rookie done that they’d be praised for trying to light a spark on a team where no spark exists. Last season Bryce Harper played with arrogance rarely seen in a rookie. And although Valdespin is no Harper, I don’t recall Harper getting blowback from his teammates. He gets praised while Valdespin gets violently slammed in the face by John Buck. John Buck who is on his 4^th team in the last 5 years. John Buck who will be riding the pine once D’arnaud arrives. Can you imagine back-up catcher Ed Hearn violently slamming a pie into the face of Lenny Dykstra? I can’t either.

Kevin Mitchell was a rookie in 86. Does anyone think had Mitch been purposely beaned like that, the Mets would not have retaliated? Tell me Bobby Ojeda wouldn’t have had someone kissing the dirt the next inning. In 1969 Wayne Garrett was a rookie. Garrett was unassuming and quiet. But can you imagine Gil Hodges setting up Garrett to get beaned? I can’t either.

Why should we expect the 2013 Mets to fight the other teams in the NL when they don’t even fight for each other?

You can clearly see the dissension on this “team” by some of the quotes of Valdespin’s “team” mates.

Latroy Hawkins: “What, now we’re supposed to get into a fight for that?” First of all, I didn’t even know Hawkins was still in the majors until the Mets found him on the scrap heap. Secondly, to answer your question, Latroy, yes. Yes you are.

Marlon Byrd: “The Pirates did what you’re supposed to do. We would have done the same thing.” With all due respect, Marlon, I disagree. When was the last time the Mets protected one of their own and retaliated?

If the Mets are going to lose, at least lose with some dignity. Losing is one thing. Being a doormat is unacceptable.

And to David Wright, you’re the captain. Avoid the politically correct statements and settle this in the clubhouse. You’ve got that “C” on your jersey. Now act like a captain. I can’t imagine Keith or Gary or John Franco allowing this to fester. Isn’t it David who said, “You play for the name on the front of your jersey, not the one on your back.”

One vivid memory of 86 was the all-out bench-clearing brawl when Ray Knight decked Eric Davis in Cincinnati. Dugouts emptied…except for one player. Former Red George Foster sat on the bench and watched the Mets fight his old team. And although Foster was the 2^nd highest paid player on the team (and yes, an outcast even before), GM Frank Cashen had no problems immediately getting Foster out of New York. Why? He realized that Foster was not a team player.

Thank goodness Alderson was not the GM in 86. He would’ve kept Foster and gotten rid of Ray Knight.

And ask yourself this: What’s easier to imagine—a guy like Valdespin fitting in with the 86 Champions…or a guy like Keith Hernandez fitting in with the 2013 Mets?

So, to Valdespin, I say, hang in there. Your time here is probably limited. The fact that you’re exciting, try to light a spark and want to win, is clearly not in synch with the 2013 Mets. Management wants everyone to be nice and quiet. We don’t want to upset anyone else in the league.

Shhh. Heaven forbid someone gets mad at us. So, sit tight, Jordany. We’ll probably get rid of you like we did Beltran or Pagan. You know, two ex-Mets who escaped this madness. Two ex-Mets now wearing or pursuing World Series rings. Yes, World Series rings, something Terry  Collins can only view on Google Images.

The bio reveals some shocking and even sad details about his life in baseball and the toll that drug addiction took on his career and his life.

Gooden believes if he had died the moment the Mets won the World Series in 1986, he would have saved many people a great deal of grief – starting with himself.

The mercurial former ace’s downward spiral began just minutes after Jesse Orosco tossed his glove in the air to celebrate the Amazin’s comeback victory over the Red Sox, Gooden writes in his new autobiography “Doc: A Memoir.”

The first call Gooden made after becoming World Series champion was his father. The second was his drug dealer. That night, Gooden went on a cocaine and booze bender that ended up causing him to miss the Mets’ victory parade. Instead, he watched the celebration on television at his home – a moment he describes as the loneliest he has ever felt.

“As my teammates road through the Canyon of Heroes, I was alone in my bed in Roslyn, Long Island, with the curtains closed and the TV on, missing what should have been the greatest morning of my life,” Gooden wrote.

The book reportedly chronicles Gooden’s rise to become one of the best young pitchers in baseball history, his years with the Yankees and his complicated relationship with Darryl Strawberry.

People make mistakes, and Dwight has made a lot of them. But we have always been a forgiving people and we now know that drug addiction is a disease that can sometimes grip you and never let go.

I’m glad Gooden didn’t die and I’m even happier to see him continuing to fight through his addiction. It’s a never-ending battle.

I was talking about Gooden just last night and discussed how cool it is that this one-time mets pitching phenom is the one leading the charge and heading up the Matt Harvey Fan Club. He never misses one of his starts and he takes to Twitter every five days and joins the rest of us to cheer Harvey on.

Doc’s always had a good heart and many times I often wonder just how great his career could have been before the drugs took him down that dark path. To this day, his rookie season was one of the most thrilling and exciting times of my life as a Met fan. The World Series in 1986 was the cherry on top. I will always love Dwight Gooden for that.

Pre Order “Doc: A Memoir” Now!

A member of the SABR once said, “There are 499 ballplayers. And then there’s Willie Mays.”

It was way back in the summer of 1973. Camera Day. I was a few months shy of turning 8 years old. My dad nudged me closer to the railing along the third base line so no grown-ups would block my view. Mets players walked around the warning track, stopping every few feet to smile for the cameras. My dad clicked away on his little Kodak Instamatic. I was just feet away from my Mets. Something I still remember 40 years later.

Tug and Harry Parker rode around on the back of the Mets bullpen cart. Jerry Koosman, void of his cap, stopped within arm’s reach. Lanky Jon Matlack smiled broadly. Cleon Jone carried himself with swagger, looking every part the major leaguer. Rusty Staub carried a teddy bear. Then, an eerie hush, the calm before the storm, came over the crowd. The quietness gave way to a volcanic eruption of cheers and shouts. Carrying a baseball bat as if he was born with it in his hand came # 24.

As game time approached and my dad and I walked to our seats in Loge section 5 along first base, he leaned over and told to remember today. One day I would be able to tell my kids that I saw Willie Mays.

I was 7 years old. All I knew about this guy was that he had once played in New York a long time ago and made some important catch once.
When the topic comes up of who is the greatest to ever play the game, I immediately respond without hesitation: Willie Mays. Ruth didn’t have the speed, Williams didn’t have the glove, Cobb, although he played in the dead ball era, didn’t have the power. The Say Hey Kid didn’t just do it all. He did it better than anyone before or since.

Born May 6, 1931 in Westfield, Alabama, William Howard Mays was taught the game of baseball at age 5. His father, William Howard Taft, named after a US president, played in the Negro Leagues for the local iron plant. His mother was a talented basketball and track star. Willie had the genes.

Attending Fairfield Industrial High, Willie set school records in both basketball and football.

Upon graduating, Willie played for the Birmingham Black Barons. He caught the eye of Bud Maughn, a scout for the Boston Braves. Boston was interested in purchasing Mays. However, they dragged their feet and could not come to an agreement with the Barons. Had the Braves moved quicker, it’s likely that Willie would have been teammates with Hank Aaron.

Brooklyn was also interested in Mays, but by the time they got around to it, he’d already been signed by their crosstown rivals, the hated New York Giants.

There was no Roy Hobbs moment when Willie took the field in 1951. He didn’t knock the cover off the ball in his first AB. As a matter of fact, he went 0-for-his first 12. Then, his first hit came: A towering HR off future Hall of Famer Warren Spahn. Spahn later joked, “For the first sixty feet, it was a hell of a pitch.”

Willie hit 274-20-68 in 121 games and won the NL Rookie of the Year. It was Mays who was on deck later that season when Bobby Thomson hit ‘the shot heard round the world.’

The Giants lost the Series in 6 to the Yankees. Mays, along with Monte Irvin and Hank Thomson, were the first all-African-American outfield in baseball history.

After only 127 AB’s the following year, Uncle Sam came calling. Willie was drafted into the Army. He would not return to the majors until 1954. He missed 266 games.

But when he did return in 1954, he returned with a bang. He won his first of 2 MVP’s, hitting a league best 345 along with 41 HR’s. The Giants crushed the heavily favored Indians in 4 straight. The Series is best remembered for Willie’s iconic catch off the bat of Vic Wertz. In what is possibly the most popular image in Baseball history, The Say Hey Kid thus elevated himself to mythical proportions. This was the start of a legend. Modest Willie stated years later, “I don’t compare ‘em. I just catch ‘em.”

It was the last World Series the Giants ever won in New York. The team would not win another until 2010.

That season Willie earned $12,500.

The Giants played 3 more years in NY and over that span, Willie averaged 316, compiled 122 HR’s, 551 hits, 112 XBH, knocked in 308. Oh, and also managed to steal 102 bases.

In 1957, he became a member of the 20-20-20 club. 20 doubles, 20 triples and 20 HR’s. No player has done that since.

Willie Mays was not just a great ballplayer. He was fun, colorful and exciting. He had ‘a lot of little boy in him’ and that showed, both on and off the field. “I like to play happy,” he stated. “Baseball is a fun game. I love it.”

Willie was not only larger than life ON the field but off the field as well. He’d frequently hang out in Harlem, playing stick ball with neighborhood kids. When the Giants moved to San Francisco, he continued the tradition, playing in the sandlots with local kids. He truly was loved coast to coast.

Willie had no trouble winning the hearts of San Francisco fans. His first year out west he hit a career high 347. And although the Giants initially struggled in San Francisco, Willie continued putting up
Hall of Fame numbers.

On April 30, 1961, Mays hit 4 HR’s in a game. He was in the on-deck circle when the final out was recorded.

In 1962 the Giants won a tight pennant race and met the Yankees in the Fall Classic. The Giants lost in a heartbreaking 7 games. Willie hit just 250. He would not appear in another World Series until 1973.

July 2, 1963 is what many claim to be the best baseball game ever played. Two future Hall of Famers, Juan Marichal and Warren Spahn, dueled it out. For 16 innings the game was scoreless. It was like a heavyweight fight between two warriors who refused to go down. In the 16^th inning, it was Willie Mays who delivered the knockout blow, hitting a HR and giving SF a 1-0 win.

In turn, this added yet another historical fact to the lore of Mays. He is the only player to hit a HR in every inning, 1 thru 16.

It was 1964. Willie’s friend and teammate Bobby Bonds welcomed a son into the world and named him Barry. He asked Willie to be the newborn’s Godfather.

August 22, 1965 is widely regarded as one of the ugliest days in Baseball history. The Giants and Dodgers were embroiled in a tight pennant race. Tension was high, tempers were short. Things boiled over. Juan Marichal hit Dodgers catcher Johnny Roseboro in the head with a bat. And then all hell broke loose. Red Sox/Yankees had nothing on this. This was not the usual bench clearing brawl where a couple guys tousle and everyone else stands around. This was an all-out war that went on for 14 minutes. Players were bloodied, uniforms shredded. It was Willie along with Sandy Koufax who restored order. Just a few years ago, Marichal stated, “Had Willie and Koufax not ended that, we’d probably still be going at it today.”

The following year, 1965, Willie surpassed another historic milestone. He hit his 500^th HR, a blast off of Don Nottebart. When he returned to the dugout he was met by now teammate Warren Spahn. 13 years earlier it was Spahn who gave up Willie’s very first HR. The veteran LHP asked him, “Was it anything like the same feeling?” Willie responded, “Exactly the same feeling. Same pitch, too.”

Shortly after Jerry Koosman got Orioles second baseman Davey Johnson to fly out to left in October 69 and the Mets proved miracles can come true, The Sporting News named Willie Mays ‘The Player of the Decade.’

By early 1972, age was catching up to The Say Hey Kid. The Giants were struggling financially. Owner Horace Stoneham regrettably advised the Giant legend that he could not afford to offer Willie any type of position or financial reward upon his retirement. Enter the Mets.

Mets owner Joan Payson had been a minority shareholder for the New York Giants. In the late 50’s, she fought hard to keep them in New York. Payson watched her beloved Giants move 3000 miles away, longing for the day when her adored and cherished Willie Mays would somehow return to New York. That opportunity presented itself now.

Payson saw the chance, fought hard to get Willie back to New York and offered him a coaching position upon retirement. In early May the Mets sent Charlie Williams and $50,000 to Stoneham. The Say Hey Kid was back in New York, just 10 miles away from where the Polo Grounds once stood. And where the legend of Willie Mays was born.

It was a rainy Sunday, May 14, when Willie wore “NY” on his cap for the first time in fifteen years. In the fifth inning of his debut game, Willie, as always, rose to the occasion. He hit a HR that put the Mets ahead to stay. The losing team was, yes, the Giants.

August 17^th of the following season, 1973, Mays hit a solo HR off Reds starter Don Gullett. It was # 660, the final one of his illustrious career.

The Mets shocked baseball once again, coming back from the dead and from last place to find themselves battling the A’s in the World Series. At age 42, Willie became the oldest player to appear in the Fall Classic. He got the Mets first hit in the World Series.

Willie only had 7 AB’s against Oakland. He got 2 hits, including the game winner in the 12 inning Game 2. In spite of Willie’s hit tying up the Series, it was a heartbreaking day for fans of the game. And for fans of Willie. He misplayed a routine fly ball, losing it in the glare of the northern California sunlight. Just across the bay from where Willie established himself as the best fielding CF-er of all time, he dropped a fly ball hit directly to him. After the game, he commented, “Growing old is just a helpless hurt.”

In 1979, William Howard Mays was enshrined in Baseball immortality. He was elected to the Hall of Fame with 95% of the vote. Amazingly, 23 sportswriters did not include Mays on their ballot. Caustic New York columnist Dick Young, never at a loss for biting sarcasm, stated, “If Jesus Christ were to show up with his old glove, some guys wouldn’t vote for him. He dropped the cross three times, didn’t he?”

Willie was at or near the top of every offensive category at the time of his retirement. And in spite of the steroid era, smaller stadiums and weaker pitching staffs, he remains a “giant” among the greats: 660 Home Runs (4^th), 1903 RBI’s (10^th), 3283 hits (11^th), 2062 runs (7^th), 10881 at-bats, 557 slugging (19^th now but 10^th at retirement). All this plus a lifetime batting average of 302 and oh yea, 338 Steals, a 77% success rate on the base paths.

As impressive as these stats were and still are today, keep in mind Willie played the bulk of his career in the 1960’s, a decade dominated by pitching and cavernous stadiums.

He was a 2 time MVP winner (1954, 1965). He won a record 12 Gold Gloves for CF, a remarkable feat considering Willie had 6 years under his belt before the award was even created. And the fact that he played in the swirling unpredictable winds of Candlestick Park. His 24 All-Star games tie him for the most mid-summer classics with Stan Musial. In 1999, Mays was chosen as #2 on the Greatest Players of the 20^th century, the only living member. He holds the record for 13 straight years playing 150+ games.

In addition to his accolades, Willie, usually bashful, was honest and forthright. He knew he was good. And so did we. Some of his quotes:

“They throw the ball, I hit the ball. They hit the ball. I catch the ball.” “When I’m not hitting, I don’t hit nobody. But when I am, I can hit anybody.” “The game was easy for me.” When asked who he thinks was the best ball player he ever saw, Willie replied with a broad smile. “I think I was the best I ever saw play.”

As much as fans loved seeing him play, he was equally respected and admired by his peers and contemporaries.

Ted Williams: “They invented the All-Star Game for Willie Mays.”

Ted Kluszewski: “I’m not sure what charisma is but I get the feeling it’s Willie Mays.”

Mays’ manager Leo Durocher: “He can hit. He can run. He can field. If he could cook, I’d marry him.”

Reggie Jackson: “You used to think if you were winning 5-0 somehow Mays would find a way to hit a 5 run HR.”

Opposing manager Gil Hodges: “I can’t tell my batters not to hit it to him. Wherever they hit it, he’s there anyway.”

It’s been 4 decades since this little scrawny 7 year-old kid with a front tooth missing was nudged closer to the railing at Shea on Camera Day 1973, trying to see past all the tall grown-ups. It’s been 4 decades since my dad told me to remember the day I saw Willie Mays on a Baseball field. It’s been 4 decades and this little kid is now in his late 40’s. And yes dad, I still remember.

The Chicago Tribune discussed Tuesday’s homecoming of sorts for Chicago White Sox manager Robin Ventura and his coach Joe McEwing. Both were teammates for two seasons with the Mets including the 2000 team that won the National League, but lost to Yankees in the World Series.

“It was a great time,” said Ventura, who played for the Mets from 1999-2001. “We enjoyed it as a family just being there. The Mets were very good to me. There’s part of it going back, seeing a lot of faces that you’re friends with and happy to see.”

Who can ever forget Ventura’s most signature moment as a Met – The Grand Slam Single…

What a great memory and one that still gives me goosebumps.

The article also mentions that McEwing will be honored while he’s in town and will be inducted into the Irish American Baseball Hall of Fame at Foley’s NY Pub and Restaurant in New York on Tuesday.

“You’re so proud of your background and heritage, and to be inducted into the Irish American Baseball Hall of Fame is an honor I’m humbled by.”

The owner is obviously wealthy, a multi-millionaire probably hundreds of times over. One thing I can say is that I don’t feel sorry for the guy.

Therefore, why do I feel sorry for another multi-millionaire named David Wright?

This year David will earn $16 million. If he plays every game this season, he will earn in one afternoon more than most of us earn in an entire year: $98,765. If he plays every single inning of every single game, David will make $10,974 per inning! But yet, I actually feel bad for the man.

David’s a stand-up guy. He’s been the face of the franchise for almost a decade now and will continue to be. He’s a clean cut athlete who stays out of trouble and is never caught up in scandalous headlines or PED rumors. He’s the type of ballplayer you can have your kids look up to. After a tough loss, it’s David who sits in front of his locker and patiently answers all the repetitive questions hurled at him from reporters. While most of his teammates head off to the showers and refuse to talk to the media, David does his job by helping the media do theirs.

He has all the similar traits of another much loved and revered Met by the name of Tom Seaver.

David Wright is only 30 and has already solidified his spot as the best all-around hitter in team history. Safe to say, he will break every team record by the time he leaves. He may also surpass Ed Kranepool as the longest tenured Met.

And this past winter, Sandy Alderson, to his credit, did lock up #5 for the long term. While I do applaud Alderson’s decision and thank David for his loyalty to the blue and orange, I still find myself feeling a bit sorry for him. I feel sorry that he drank Alderson’s Kool-Aid.

Athletes, like the rest of us, want to earn as much money as possible. Unlike Mike Hampton, who accepted an exorbitant salary from the Rockies and claimed his reason for going to Colorado was for the better school system, David is a class act.

The Mets GM tells us we are rebuilding. That it will take 3-5 years. By that time, David will be in his mid 30’s, his most productive years behind him. Yes, money is important, but to a professional athlete winning is more important than money. You cant buy a World Series ring.

Ty Cobb, the greatest hitter ever, never got to win a World Series. Ted Williams would have probably given up that .406 in 1941 for even the opportunity to appear in the Fall Classic.

While I applaud David’s loyalty (I never thought he’d stay), I wonder if he regrets his decision. Let’s be honest. No one is expecting a World Series flag flying over Citi Field anytime soon. Hell, no one’s even expecting us to be competitive in the foreseeable future.

I’m reminded of a little known pitcher named Ed Lynch. Lynch was mostly a spot-starter for the hapless Mets in the early 80’s. From 81-85, Lynch tossed 708 IP and posted a respectable 3.74 era. He was a workhorse who was 38-40 for a team that was far under .500. He was here as the Mets rebuilt. He was teammates with the likes of Lee Mazzilli, Hubie Brooks and John Pacella. Lynch was injured coming into the 1986 season and on June 30, after 6 years of service and just 4 months before the Mets won it all, Lynch was traded to the Cubs for the unforgettable Dave Liddell and Dave Lenderman. (who???) Ed Lynch missed all the fun.

Will this same fate meet David Wright? By the time the Mets are competitive, Wright may very well be expendable, his best days behind him.

I also fret about the boo birds. In spite of David’s stellar career and now being named Captain even he has not been without his critics. It’s been implied that he needs to be a leader on the field as well. I, too, would like to see him assume that leadership role, a la Keith Hernandez. But simply, some guys are not made that way. They don’t have that genetic makeup. And that’s not a slam on him. Cooperstown is filled with players who were not ‘team leaders.’ But yet, now that David is making $98,765 per game, will he be unfairly expected to assume that role?

His stats over the last 4 years (09-12)  are still respectable. But they do fall short of the numbers he put up the previous 4 seasons (05-08.)

As the Mets “rebuild,” one can’t help but wonder if David’s numbers will continue to suffer. It’s very likely there won’t be anyone at the top of the batting order he can bring home. And very little protection behind him. In 2012, David’s line was 307-21-93. Solid stats. But even if he manages to repeat those respectable numbers, are those the type of stats that, along with not being a team leader, warrant $16 million?

David is a much loved Met. No doubt about that. But as we will stumble our way through another season, as the dog days of summer drag on, as attendance drops and our big battle will be beating Miami to stay out of the cellar, I wonder if Wright may unfairly be booed. It seems like there’s always a fall guy, someone to blame, be it Willie Randolph, Aaron Heilman, coaches, even trainers.

So, to David Wright, I thank you. Thanks for being a stand-up guy. Thanks for remaining loyal to the blue and orange. Thanks for not being all about the money and giving Alderson a chance.

He may wind up like Cobb and never win a World Series. Or Williams and never get to play in one. But hey, think of the bright side. Maybe 20 years from now the #5 will be in a circle on the outfield wall alongside #41.

Maybe…

They could have also used Sadecki in 2007 or 2008, which is when I chose his name on the LoHud blog when John Delcos was running the site before Howard Megdal. Those two seasons will always be remembered for how we collapsed and needed to rely upon the likes of Brian Lawrence getting starts and Aaron Heilman and his cohorts blowing game after game in the bullpen.

Tonight Jeremy Hefner delivered a brilliant performance and needed the bullpen to preserve his shutout heading into the ninth. Unfortunately, things unravelled and his solid start went into the loss column.

This wasn’t the first time that Hefner was let down by his bullpen. Usually, the kid is done after five or six innings and he’s had to get 3-4 innings out of his pen. It was the perfect assignment for a true longman, but alas the Mets don’t have a true longman. In fact the Mets have not had one since Darren Oliver in 2006.

Now back to Ray. He was signed as a 19 year old bonus baby by the Cardinals in 1959 and won 20 games for them during their 1964 championship season.

In 1965, Sadecki’s record plummeted to 6–15 and his earned run average skyrocketed to 5.21. On May 8, 1966 he was traded to the San Francisco Giants for Orlando Cepeda. In 1967 he went 12–6 with a career-best 2.78 ERA and he followed that up with another solid campaign 1968 when he posted a 2.91 ERA but with a 12–18 record, the 18 losses tying him with Claude Osteen for the the most losses in the majors.

After a 5–8 record as a spot starter in 1969, Ray Sadecki was again traded, this time to the New York Mets.

In 1973 Sadecki pitched for the Mets’ National League champions who, like the 1964 Cardinals before them, unexpectedly won the pennant, trailing by as many as nine games behind the Chicago Cubs and winning the National League East title on the final weekend. (Coincidentally, four years earlier the Mets, prior to unexpectedly winning the World Series, had also won the division title by jumping past the Cubs.)

Sadecki pitched as a “swingman” for the Amazins’, appearing both as a relief pitcher and spot starter in a rotation that boasted Tom Seaver, Jerry Koosman and Jon Matlack and was instrumental in helping the Mets win the division.

He pitched four of the seven games of the World Series, which the Mets ultimately lost to the Oakland Athletics, and earned the save in Game Four.

In his 18-year career, Sadecki won 135 games against 131 losses, with a 3.78 ERA and 1,614 strikeouts in 2,500 innings pitched.

I always appreciated Sadecki’s dual role with the Mets and realized the value of having someone like that in the bullpen. It’s not a sexy or glamorous role, but in today’s game the best teams all have a solid longman.

All the good Mets teams of the past have all had had a guy Sadecki in the bullpen. Remember Pat Mahomes in 1999-2000? And let’s not forget Roger McDowell In the mid-eighties who seemingly did it all as long man, set up man and even closer.

The versatility of a reliever like Oliver, Mahomes, McDowell and Sadecki may seem unimportant to some in the grand scheme of things. But in this age of relief specialists and one at-bat relievers, a workhorse reliever who can do whatever the team needs, is an integral part of any good bullpen.

I was 13 years old and it was October in New York City. Game 6 of the 1986 World Series was on TV. While listening to Evans speak, I remembered Billy Buckner, who was not in the auditorium with us, but the memory of that amazing night was vivid in my mind. All I could think about was that ball rolling between his legs and that famous call by Vin Scully:

“A little roller up along first; behind the bag! It gets through Buckner! Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!”

Every time I hear that call, it gives me goosebumps. I feel like a kid again. I was watching the game in my room and from what I can remember, there were three very nervous people in my home wishing and praying that something miraculous would happen as the Mets neared the end of Game 6.

While my stepfather watched the game in the living room, my mother was in the bedroom reading and relying upon me for instant updates from me. We lived on the second floor of a duplex in the East New York section of Brooklyn, and the rooms weren’t that far from each other. So running into her room to give her updates and running back, didn’t take too long  and was actually quite fun.

As the game went along and the Mets found themselves down 2-0, my heart was pounding very hard and I couldn’t breathe. It was only the 4th inning, but being down three games to two and needing to win this game, I couldn’t begin to tell you how frazzled my nerves were.

Then the Mets tied the game with two runs in the bottom of the fifth inning. Whew, a sigh of relief went through my body, now I could finally breathe a little. At this I wondered why my mom wouldn’t come out her room and watch the game with my stepfather on the big TV in the living room. It was if she was too nervous to watch and preferred my between innings updates.

I had this thing, that throughout the World Series, no one was allowed to watch the game in my room; it was off limits because I wanted to be alone when it mattered most and if I wanted to scream or yell, I didn’t want anyone to tell me to shut up.  Neither of them would dare come in especially after the second game of the series, they knew I needed to be alone – just me and my Mets.

Now back to the game. It’s now the top of the 7th and those damned Red Sox scored again, Oh man was I having a fit, but that was short lived because the Mets scored to tie it again in the bottom of the eighth at 3-3.  What a nail-biter this was becoming.

“It’s okay,” I would say to myself. “David, just breathe man, just breath, they will do it, just like the song says. “Do it…Let’s go! Do it…Let’s go!  Lets make it happen!”

We’ll win it in the bottom of the ninth – I was convinced. That’s what I kept telling myself. However, the bottom of the ninth just comes and goes and we are headed into extra-innings. I’m sweating profusely while gazing at my TV in a trance-like state after watching the Red Sox score two runs to take the lead 5-3.

This can’t be happening. Please God, don’t let it end like this…

My mind went blank. I was now so upset that my mother yelled toward my room telling me to stop screaming. By now she was huddled with my stepfather and watching it all unfold together. What’s the matter with them? Did they not just see what has happened; of course I’m screaming.

I dug my head in my pillow and remembered praying real hard that if God would just allow the Mets to somehow come back, that I would always listen to my mom. I am sure my mother would get a thrill if she could read this part of this post.

Here we go… We’re down to our last three outs and before I can finish my praying, Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez both hit fly balls for outs.  Now its two outs and nobody on and I can hear my mother whisper to my stepfather, “Oh this is not good.”

I am sure she was more concerned about me and what my reaction would be rather than the Mets who looked like they were about to lose the World Series.  For so many years at school. my friends had given me a verbal beating for rooting for the Mets rather than the Yankees.

But the Mets were my team and I would be there for them no matter how bad they were. But in 1986, they weren’t bad, they were the most dominating team in the game. It was hard to sit and watch them go down like this. I just couldn’t stand to sit there and watch them lose the biggest game in their history at the time. I was dying inside and then suddenly a glimmer of hope…

One of my favorite Met players Gary Carter came up to bat. And as I peeked through my fingers, as if I am watching a horror flick, I prayed one last time for a miracle. There it was! A base-hit  by Carter and the Mets were still alive!

And before I knew it another base-hit by Kevin Mitchell and suddenly we had two men on and the winning run at the plate and it’s Ray Knight.  I am alive again for just a moment, and think okay, a home run right here and we win. Knight lines another a base-hit and Carter scores as Mitchell hustles to third base.  At this point I start to hear some noise coming from outside my window. I can hear screams from my neighbors, but I just didn’t want to get too excited yet, it was still two outs and the tying run was on third base.

Mookie Wilson comes up to bat.  The pitch comes in toward Mookie and he leaps in the air in one swift motion as the ball goes under him and to the backstop, and Mitchell scores to tie the game. Oh My God, the neighborhood erupted, people screaming out the windows, I have tears running down my face, I am so excited that I start to cry.  I can’t believe what I just witnessed, was it real, could it actually be happening.  I run into the living room, and give my mother and stepfather high-fives and run right back to my spot. The game isn’t over yet, but we are back in it and the winning run is now at third base in Ray Knight.

And then it happens… The play that any Met fan watching will never forget – the image burned into our minds forever. A ground ball to first base, everything seems goes into slow motion and I all I hear is that famous Vin Scully call:

“A little roller up along first; behind the bag! It gets through Buckner! Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!”

What, Oh My God, Oh My God, we win, we win, and now my mother and stepfather come running into my room, we are screaming, I am screaming out the window, my friends are all coming out their homes and a party is going on in the street that night.  What a game and with one more win the Mets will become champs.

Well we all know what happens in Game 7 of the World Series.  I got to witness my very first Mets championship, and unfortunately to this point it has been their last.  But I still have hope that they will get it together and allow me the opportunity to relive the Glory Days and witness some more of that Mets magic.

After the Mets win the series, my mother promises me that I could go to the parade, even if it meant me missing school. I am not sure what she told the nuns at my school, but who cares – I was going to the Canyon of Heroes in New York City to celebrate the greatest Met moment of my life. Nothing else mattered other than the Mets were finally champions – and to all my friends that mocked me, I finally had something to brag about.

The night before the parade, my stepfather tells us that we need to be there no later than 7:00 AM.  He says that millions of people will be there and we need to get a head-start. When we arrive in downtown Manhattan, I kid you not, no one was there.

It was 7:00 AM in the morning and the crew that were preparing the parade route were just arriving and just starting to put the barricades up. But because of my stepfather’s insistence that we get there early, we had a great vantage point for the greatest parade I would ever see.  Front row seats to watch our Champions parade down the Canyon of Heroes. How lucky can you get!

It was great… It was amazing… It was a day that is embedded in my brain and I will never forget.  A former Red Sox was a guest speaker a church breakfast meeting and revived one of the greatest games in Mets history. Thanks Dewey.

Here are some pictures we took the day of the parade. They’re not great, but I picked out the best ones that I could share with all of great Met fans on MMO. I hope you enjoyed my story.

October 28, 1986

World Champion Mets Victory Parade

1986 Mets Parade: Darryl Strawberry batted cleanup that day...

1986 Mets Parade: NYPD Blue

1986 Mets Parade: I'm Keith Hernandez...

1986 Mets Parade: That's a Roger...

1986 Mets Parade: Rick Aguilera was there too...

1986 Mets Parade: Here they come...

1986 Mets Parade: Let's have a party!

1986 Mets Parade: Bobby Ojeda and family...

1986 Mets Parade: Mookie Wilson was all smiles...

Something struck me as odd earlier this spring as I watched SNY’s first broadcast of the season from Tradition Field. Our splendid announcers were interviewing Collin Cowgill and at one point I believe it was Ron Darling asked whether Collin was getting a lot of ribbing about something or other in his background (I think it was about an underperforming college team he was affiliated with – I can’t remember exactly).

The thing I found odd was the awkward pause after the question when Collin looked at the camera like Dirty Harry staring down some “punk,” as if to say “I’m not the sort of guy that gets teased a lot.” What he did say after finally breaking the tension with a smile was “um, no not really, but yeah they’re having an off-year.” Did anyone else catch that?

Then there’s Valdespin, whose had all sorts of fanciful terms describing him, from to “loose wire” to  “screw loose” to “plays with a certain flair,” to “brash and inaudible.” After getting plunked in the privates Monday by a Justin Verlander fastball maybe we should call him “Lefty.”

The dude showed up to play second base for a Major League baseball club without a cup … now if that isn’t tough I don’t know what is. When Valdespin was asked where the pitch hit him, Valdespin replied, “in the d–k,” adding that everything is “fine” and he doesn’t expect to miss action

“Everything is good, working good, normally, everything is great,” Valdespin said. What’s really amazing is where he found the time between getting plunked, the visit to the clinic, and being interviewed by the Post, to come to the conclusion that everything is in fact “working fine.”

Now see, that’s the kind of crazy I want on my ball club. What is nevertheless obvious in all of this is the effect he has on opposing pitchers, he is exquisitely annoying with his mannerisms, and that’s not a bad thing if you ask me. Also, you get the sense that he’d be more than willing to scrap if you piss him off enough — unless of  course Justin Verlander is on the mound and you’re gunning for a roster spot in spring training and you just got your eggs scrambled by a 94 mile an hour fastball — lets be reasonable — nobody wants to get Robin Ventura’d.

Now there’s this new barrel-chested shifty eyed kid named Travis D’Arnaud. He’s not particularly brash or cocky, but his reputation as a tough guy preceded him to such an extent that Collins felt he had to specifically warn him against outrageous notions such as blocking the plate. Also, you look at Travis, and he looks like a tough guy … didn’t really get that with Josh Thole, Josh talks to deaf puppies … I’d rather have a guy back there who looks like he eats puppies. People talk about how D’Arnaud’s stats are skewed because he played in a hitter’s league but you know what? You can tell a lot about a hitter from the way major league pitchers pitch to him, and all spring left-handers in particular seem to want to part of him.

Who is the toughest guy on the Mets? Well it isn’t David Wright, nothing against the Captain, but David’s just too damned nice. He’s the guy who you can always count on to do the right thing, the sensible thing (his dad was a cop for crying out loud) …  David is more likely to try and break up a fight. It sure isn’t Duda, who I could imagine getting punched in the face and responding with “hey? What was that all about?” Now granted Duda is one guy you really wouldn’t want to get angry as he could probably hold his own in single combat against an enraged Yeti, but he also seems like just a really peaceful fellow. No, it’s Ike, and I’ll tell you why. After that high slide into Tejada by Chased Mutley a couple of years back, Ike took a really weird rout to the dugout and he was jawing at Utley the entire time, boy was he fuming. I didn’t know Ike had it in him. Up until then I thought he was just another nice kid.

So when all the crap about Ike keeping late hours came out I was pretty upset, not with the perception that Ike isn’t the goody two-shoes wholesome kid we all thought he was (he isn’t, that much is obvious), but with the realization that someone in ownership or management didn’t like it. But who? And more importantly, why?

I’ve gotten into more arguments with other Mets fans over this issue than any other I can think of. The curse of Mike Piazza, which actually started before Mike was even on the team. See, in 1986 the Mets accumulated a lot of negative Karma because of all the people they punched out. They also won the World Series so the “bad guy” Karma was not exacted through some fitting heartbreaking loss in game 6 of the World Series, nope, the bad guys got away with it. The 2000 World Series rolls around with all this negative Karma still looking for a chance to stab Met fans in the eyeball, and Mike Piazza, gets into this weird confrontation where Clemens throws the barrel of a bat in Mike’s direction.

That was Piazza’s chance to exorcise the bad juju by putting a bully in his place while vanquishing a great and bloated evil, but he didn’t. He should have at least started walking to the mound with the understanding that if no one stopped him he’d proceed to punch Clemens in the face. Nope, Mike more or less trots to first base with this “dude, what is wrong with you?”  look on his face. That was the worst thing that could have happened at that moment in time. The best thing would have been if Mike had the presence to realize that getting tossed (even if it meant a one game suspension which I doubt would have happened) would be worth giving your team the galvanizing jolt of courage and resolve that that the moment demanded. I knew then that the Mets were going to lose the series.

So here we are in 2013, and I’m starting to see a bit of an edge on the peripheries of this roster again. Maybe a gag order has been placed on someone in ownership. Maybe the “bad guy” Karma was finally satiated in 2006 when the nice guys lost … but the curse of Mike Piazza won’t officially be put to rest without a least one bench clearing brawl. It says so in the Karma rule book (I looked it up). Even more imperative, however, is that upper management find the doofus wiener who made those comments about Ike and lock him in a basement somewhere under the bowels of City Field for the remainder of the season. Maybe give him use of a flat screen and provide him with lots of snacks and a direct line to the Shake Shack, but under no circumstances should he to be allowed to leave his room or to speak.

Ever since the late 80’s the Wilpons have vigorously implemented this “character” requirement to being a N.Y. Met. I think the reasoning was largely intended as a corrective measure after the late 80′s debacle. It was also grounded in the fact that over in the Bronx, by employing a blueprint similar to Cashen’s, the Yankees secured the dynasty we should have had because they insisted on “+ character “ players. So, Jeff … er, ownership goes above and beyond ownership’s purview, insisting on “character” guys (to a fault) at the expense of that “by any means” edge and grit that almost all successful teams have. Sure maybe I’m overstating toughness, after all this isn’t football and I’m not Howie Long. Maybe in the end it still comes down to talent on the field, but with the exception of some of the more recent Yankee teams, I can’t come up with too many world series winners who didn’t have that “edge.”

One thing that a lot of us might agree on when it comes to this Alderson fellow, is he’s not the nicest guy in the world when it comes to the manner in which he executes his duties … In fact he can be kind of a cold-hearted, wise cracking, box of chocolates sending, disappointed in Santana jerk, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. If he’s remaking this team in his image my guess is there will be at least a few guys like Cowgill and D’Arnaud and Valdespin who look like they might just have enough crazy in them to stir things up. Guys who might give you that split second after they get dusted where you’re not quite sure what they’re going to do … Who will more or less guarantee some payback if you go into second spikes high. I sure hope so, because if we don’t incorporate that element we’re just going to keep getting run over by the Chase Utley’s of this world. It’s no coincidence that Utley did that to maybe the nicest kid on the team. Nice doesn’t win championships.

A couple of weeks ago, the great Mets historian and author Matt Silverman, was nice enough to give me a sneak preview into his newest publication, Swinging ’73: Baseball’s Wildest Season. The verdict is in, and Matt has done it again – delivering another Amazin’ Book that should be a part of every Met fan’s library.

This isn’t your regular everyday telling of the “Ya Gotta Believe” season, and in fact it was not what I expected at all. I thought I was going to delve into another narrative of one of my earliest memories of the New York Mets. But instead I was transported through time itself and relived the 1973 season not only from the Mets perspective, but also from that of the Oakland Athletics and the New York Yankees as well. Even more than that, I was swept right into the turbulence of that era, which serves as a fabulous backdrop to the excitement that was happening on the field.

It was fascinating to relive memories that I thought were long forgotten, and to read many of the fabulous quotes from dozens of those who formed the main cast that year. Silverman sucks you right in with his timeless writing style and I know many of you will flip through each chapter in one sitting – which is the true sign of a great story. Yes, 1973 was indeed a wild season. But it was also a transformational season for the Mets franchise, and in it they found the drive and optimism that would define all their future teams as well as their loyal fan base. I encourage all of you to grab a copy for yourselves!

Here is the publisher’s description of the book which describes more about this must-read book:

Interest and attendance were dropping, and football was ascending. Stuck in a rut, baseball was dying. Then Steinbrenner bought the Yankees, a second-division club with wife-swapping pitchers, leaving the House That Ruth Built not with a slam but a simper. He vowed not to interfere—before soon changing his mind.

Across town, Tom Seaver led the Mets’ stellar pitching line-up, and iconic outfielder Willie Mays was preparing to say goodbye. For months, the Mets, under Yogi Berra, couldn’t get it right. Meanwhile, the A’s were breaking a ban on facial hair while maverick owner Charlie Finley was fighting to keep them underpaid.

But beneath the muttonchops and mayhem, lay another world. Elvis commanded a larger audience than the Apollo landings. A Dodge Dart cost $2,800, gas was a quarter per gallon. A fiscal crisis loomed; Vietnam had ended, the vice president resigned, and Watergate had taken over. It was one of the most exciting years in the game’s history, the first with the designated hitter and the last before arbitration and free agency. The two World Series opponents went head-to-head above the baby steps of a dynasty that soon dwarfed both league champions. It was a turbulent time for the country and the game, neither of which would ever be the same again.

I recommend this book to all my readers, and you can pick it up for less than the price of a burger, fries and shake at you know where.

Get your copy of Swinging ’73: Baseball’s Wildest Season right now and at a great low price!

Does that mean the Mets are on pace to have the success the A’s had ten years ago that was chronicled in the book and movie Moneyball? Not likely.

For those of you who haven’t read the book (or watched the movie), Moneyball is based on a form of analysis called sabermetrics. Simply stated, moneyball theorizes that in order to win games, a team has to score more runs than their opponent by getting on base more frequently. It goes further to analyze which players actually help you score more runs using a series of mathematical equations to develop advanced statistics called sabermetrics. This is obviously a very rudimentary explanation of moneyball, but it inevitably goes against everything the traditional scouts have been saying for over 100 years. Scouts search far and wide for the coveted five tool players which are as rare as unicorns and leprechauns. The search takes them around the globe with one goal in mind: to build the best teams they can by seeking out the best talent.

Sabermetrics allowed Beane to take advantage of players often ignored by other teams in order to build his historic 2002 team. They were ignored since teams didn’t understand their true value. This misunderstanding was due to not using sabermetrics to evaluate players. At least that is what we are led to believe. We will return to this later.

The movie alludes to the idea that Beane was looking for a way to analyze talent that was different from the traditional scouts. This was supposedly due to the fact that he was once considered a “can’t miss” five tool player. He was selected in the first round of the 1980 MLB draft (by the Mets coincidentally), but never lived up to expectations. The Mets had three first round picks that year, and held the number one pick. They used that number one pick on Daryl Strawberry after Beane signed on to play football and baseball with Stanford, even though scouts thought Beane was as close to a “sure thing” as you can get from a prospect. No teams wanted to risk a first round pick on a kid that was going to be John Elway’s heir at Stanford. The only team who could afford to take that risk was the New York Mets since they had two other first round picks.

To this day, scouts say Beane was the most gifted athlete in the 1980 draft class. But if Beane learned anything from his playing career, it’s that there is no such thing as a “sure thing.” This has him at odds with scouts who wanted to try and put the best overall players on the field, the way big market teams do.

Back to Beane’s 2002 Oakland Athletics team which was the basis of the book and movie Moneyball. First, let me say that the movie was entertaining. Unfortunately, it paints a picture of Beane building the entire 2002 A’s from a bunch of players that no other team wanted. It reminded me of the scene in the movie Major League when they are trying to build a team bad enough that will help the Indians move out of Cleveland. Nobody was previously playing in the California Penal League, and the team was actually stacked before Beane added the final few pieces of the puzzle using sabermetrics.

The movie fails to mention the fact that the pitching staff consisted of Barry Zito (2002 Cy Young Winner), Mark Mulder, and Tim Hudson who were affectionately known as the “Big 3.” Let’s put it this way, if Beane didn’t win the division with those three guys he should’ve lost his job. By the way, the closer was Billy Koch, and it gets even better. The A’s had Miguel Tejada (2002 AL MVP), Eric Chavez, Jermaine Dye, Ray Durham, and David Justice all in their lineup. So was the success of the A’s due to sabermetrics being used to add a few players that nobody even remembers from the team, or the fact that everything came together for the A’s due to great player development? And if you thought the 2002 pitching staff was scary, the 2003 & 2004 A’s added a young Rich Harden to the mix. How did the Athletics manage to never win a World Series with those guys on their pitching staff?

Now let’s get back to the Mets. I think everyone will agree the Mets don’t have the talent the A’s had in the early 2000s. Not only that, but the A’s are a small market team, so they had to come up with creative ways to compete with big market teams. Look at it this way - when a person with a lower income goes to buy a car, they look for different attributes in that car than a person with a higher income would. The person with lower income goes to buy a Honda. It will get you back and forth to work, it’s reliable and good on gas, but you aren’t winning any races. The person with higher income goes to buy a Corvette, and the license plate reads “eat my dust.”

The Mets are a large market team. They shouldn’t be shopping for Hondas. Their license plate should read “eat my dust.” It doesn’t make sense for them to use the strategies of the small market teams. Their strategy should be to use their revenue stream to crush their opponents. The Mets can certainly learn a thing or two about player development from the Athletics of the early 2000s, but I’m still not sold on the fact that sabermetrics had anything to do with the success of those teams after looking at the players on that roster.

Can the Mets build a winning team using sabermetrics and moneyball? I know one thing for certain – no small market teams have won the World Series using sabermetrics alone in the past ten years. So if the Mets want to start winning again, they better start taking the money out of Moneyball, and start spending it.

Update: According to Scott Merkin of MLB.com, if the White Sox cut payroll as expected, it’s likely that either John Danks or Mark Buehrle will not return in 2012.

Looking at the free agent market for starting pitchers can be quite depressing. As of this writing it’s not known whether C.C. Sabathia will be a free agent. The next best free agent pitcher after C.C. assuming he opts-out is C.J. Wilson of the Texas Rangers and it’s widely believed Wilson will command a hefty price. Wilson is a good pitcher, but I don’t think he’s worth the money he’s going to command on the open market. I also think his big mouth and his troubles in high pressure situations make him a pitcher the Mets need to avoid. I also think that Nolan Ryan who reportedly loves Wilson will spend the money to keep him.

So with that in mind I looked at the free agent pool and one pitcher I like that will be available is Mark Buehrle.  Now the Mets need a true ace but we’re not getting that this off season so we have to look elsewhere and Buehrle would be a nice pickup. Looking at Buehrle’s numbers they don’t set the world particularly on fire but they still do impress. Buehrle since 2000 has averaged 223 innings pitched per year. Since 2001 Buehrle has averaged 15 wins per season. Buehrle has pitched a no hitter and a perfect game in his career not to mention winning two gold gloves later in his career. Most importantly Buehrle does not have much of an injury history and I believe in the National League he can win 15-18 games.

Adding Buehrle also adds a much needed veteran arm for this rotation. We all know Santana expects only the best from himself and coming back from an injury that cost him the entire 2011 season he will be putting more pressure than usual on himself to perform like the Santana of old. I think having a veteran who is a proven winner throughout his career in the rotation can only help lessen some of the pressure that will be placed on Johan by himself. This can only help strengthen the rotation.

Buehrle will be a smart option for this team. He has big market experience as he has pitched in Chicago his entire career. Buehrle doesn’t have the greatest post season numbers but does have a World Series ring. I believe a 3 year deal would be wise to offer Buehrle. Perhaps you throw in a team option for a 4th year, though I think that is a bad idea, I rather give him some incentives to make him more money throughout the 3 years. A rotation of Santana, Niese, Buehrle, Dickey and Pelfrey and/or Gee is not the prettiest and obviously can’t compete with the Phillies, but it’s much better than what the Mets put out this past season.

The top grossing films that year were Top Gun, Platoon and Crocodile Dundee. The top rated TV shows were Magnum PI, Family Ties and Dynasty. Mike Tyson became the youngest heavyweight champion in history. Madonna was telling her Papa not to preach, Robert Palmer admitted he was Addicted to Love, The Bangles taught us how to walk like Egyptians and Van Halen introduced the world to their replacement for David Lee Roth. Hollywood legend Jimmy Cagney died. And Lindsey Lohan was born.

Sound like ancient history? It is. It also is the last time the Mets were World Champions.

I was recently discussing the 2010 post-season with a couple of friends of mine. They are “casual fans” for other teams. They don’t bleed blue and orange like we do. One asked me, “When is the last time the Mets won it all?” The image of Mookie running down the first base line and Jesse tossing his glove into the air immediately came to the forefront of my mind. “1986” I proudly replied, but my beaming smile quickly vanished. “That’s really a long time ago,” my other friend responded. And as I thought about it, they were right. It was a long time ago. Too long.

Even our language has changed. Words like ‘website,’ ‘blog,’ and ‘Ipod’ had not entered our vocabulary. If you wanted to see a video you had to wait for MTV and not just sign into YouTube. A monitor was someone who stood in the hallway at school. A keyboard was something played by the one guy from Journey.

Yes, 25 years have now passed since a Championship flag flew over Shea. Shea, a stadium that no longer exists.

How long has it been?

Since we fans use Baseball to mark our lives like notches on a doorframe, consider these facts: The 1986 All-Star Game highlighted two of the youngest superstars as starting pitchers: Roger Clemens and our own Doc Gooden. In 1986, Mike Schmidt was MVP. Cal Ripken was only one-third of the way to catching Gehrig. The AL Rookie of the Year award went to a slugger from Oakland named Jose Canseco. Barry Bonds’ HR total stood at 16. Mark McGwire had 3. Ken Griffey Jr was in high school. David Wright was in kindergarten.

There was a drug scandal in Baseball but it was cocaine, not steroids. The highest paid player was Gary Carter with an unheard salary of $2.1 million.

A quarter of a century has passed. An entire generation. The members of that 86 championship team have moved on. Some have gone on to manage, others to coach. Some have gone to rehab, others to jail. Several have gone to the broadcast booth. One has gone to Cooperstown. Hitting coach Bill Robinson has passed away.

And where were you that magical night in October? Think back to where you were the last time the Mets were World Champions. And think back how much your life has changed. I’m sure many reading this article were not even alive. Or many others were too young to remember.

I first learned Baseball and became a Mets fan in 1973, a pretty good first year. But as the Mets fell short to the powerhouse Oakland A’s in 7, honestly, I didn’t watch many of the games. I was not quite 8 years old and didn’t grasp the concept. My first year of rooting for the Mets and we go to the World Series??? This whole World Series thing must be pretty easy. I’ll just watch it next year.

But ‘next year’ would not happen until 1986 and by then, this former 7 year old was now a senior in college.

October 27, 1986 was a Monday. With an entire team payroll of just over $15 million, only a little more then one year for Jason Bay, the Mets defeated Boston 8-5 and became Champions. But that same day, 600 miles west of Flushing, in the small town of Lima, OH, Jeffery and Annette Niese welcomed their son into the world and named him Jon.

Yes, it’s been that long…