Mets’ fans are finally nestled, all snug in their beds, with visions of spring training – and Mister Cespedes, and a thrilling season – dancing in their heads.
So with pitchers and catchers still maddeningly distant, and plenty of time for counting now that the dealing’s done (didn’t think I could fit St. Nicholas and (the good) Kenny Rogers in the same column, did you?), now is the perfect time to discuss something we don’t have much time to delve into during the season or even the hot stove.
Memorabilia. The things that invoke the most pleasant memories of the years invested in our Metropolitans. From ticket stubs to game-used MLB baseballs to limited edition paintings, everyone has his or her own unique collection, be it big or small, older stuff or newer stuff, bought or caught.
I say this as no memorabilia maven, but rather as a Mets lifer with no more – or less – interest in memorabilia than the next guy, though I do value having cool Mets’ stuff enough to visit Cooperstown twice in recent years and spend hours on end leisurely strolling through and perusing the merchandise in that seamhead paradise (not to mention displaying flashy Mets license plates on two cars).
But this column is not so much about my collection as it is about yours. It is designed to induce you to discuss in the comments section your own collection, what memorabilia you value, and why. I’ll start the festivities.
One of the best things about being a fan of the Mets at my age is that I have witnessed the entirety of the team’s history, And since the Mets are now entering their 55th season, this is hardly like being a lifer for all 11 seasons of the Nationals, or proud that you have been alive for all 23 seasons of the Marlins’ or Rockies’ existence.
Sure, we’re not the Yankees or Red Sox or Cardinals, but there is a real history with this franchise An amazing one, for both better and worse. And unlike those who were not around or too young to remember ‘69 or ‘73 or ‘86 or even 2000, having been there since it all began makes it difficult to pick between the myriad options available in the market.
For starters, I wanted to engrave in my mind the high points of Mets history, the moments that never cease to make me smile (in one case, sadly). I was willing to pay for stuff that was well produced, framed and autographed so as to create a handsome wall in our guest room that can stand the test of wifely scrutiny (of course, it doesn’t hurt that my wife has become as big a fan as me).
And so I started with Cleon Jones’ catch on one knee to end the ‘69 series, pictured here. It has an authentication certificate (though I’ve never really understood whether that is worth much).
The Buckner play is a must-have, but it had to be signed by both Mookie and Buckner.
Then, I added a photo that was at once memorable, heart-breaking and intensely personal. The last great moment at Shea, Endy’s catch, which I witnessed in person from the first row of a loge box behind the plate. That’s the one that gives me the sad smile.
The 1999-2000 team and the 2015 team have posed problems because there were not the same kind of singular moments as the other years, but here is where I got lucky.
First, a particularly thoughtful friend gave me a birthday gift with a very special meaning: a single frame screen capture from the TV feed of that magic moment, the Nieuwenhuis homer in DC in September that completed our comeback from 7-1 down and all but clinched the division…with my wife sitting directly above Kirk’s helmet and me just to the right (or her left)…reacting as the ball came off the bat. I must get Captain Kirk to autograph it one of these days.
And now that Mr. Cespedes is on board again, cementing the metamorphosis of this star-crossed franchise that commenced when he first arrived, I may yet go for something like this.
Of course, I could always opt for this one of the Mets winning the pennant at Wrigley Field (or maybe I’ll just send one to the Cubs’ obnoxious owner with the caption…maybe next time, you can actually win a game against us).
Ah, but then, the piece de resistance. For my 60th birthday, I was gifted the absolutely gorgeous painting of our newly elected Hall of Famer Mike Piazza pictured atop this column. It really is mesmerizing in a Field of Dreams kind of way, and I find myself gazing at it endlessly. I understand prints of it, signed by the artist, are going like hot cakes here. And as if its artistry wasn’t enough, it also – finally – fills in the one missing era in my collection.
The Kirk homer and Piazza portrait illustrate one important point about collecting. You should be seeking the type of memorabilia you want and envision, but always allow for delightful surprises like these.
So now it’s time for you to weigh in. Have you kept some or all game scorecards, if you actually produced any? Do you keep some or all of your ticket stubs? Do you prefer enlarged autographed pictures of memorable moments in Mets’ history, as I do? Or do you prefer autographed balls, or team photos, or bobbleheads, or something else? Do autographs matter to you or not? Where do you display your wares? Do you have a lot of stuff from other teams?
And if applicable, just how tacky does your wife think your collection is?
Let the memories flow!
