I was having a pretty good day, the Mets had the day off fresh after a series win in Kansas City, and I thought, “Hey, why not take a day off too?”

Then, about 8 minutes ago, I got a message from one of my editors Brian, asking if we should post about Al Jackson…

It took a few seconds for it to sink in and after jumping onto Mets Twitter, it confirmed to me that the worst had happened – Al Jackson – an original 1962 Met – was dead at the age of 83.

I told Brian not to assign this to anyone and that I would rush home to post this sad news myself.

In all honesty, I never actually watched Jackson pitch for the Mets, but as a seventies kid, I grew up on the legend of Al Jackson. Most of my misspent years as a youth were hanging out in this candy store up the block from me.

Playing pinball, buying fistfuls of Bazooka, but mostly listening to the older kids constantly talking about the Mets and the Yankees – this was my drug of choice… And the Mets were becoming my addiction.

I remember one evening my dad asked me to go to the candy store and pick up the Daily News. Back then they used to go to press twice daily, once in the early morning and then again at night with what they called the sports final edition. We had no cable back then, and if you wanted to know how all the teams did and get all the highlights – that’s the edition you wanted.

The place was packed and buzzing, and Yankee fans were laughing at the few Met fans there about Al Jackson, who had just gotten released. When I got back home my father and the next-door neighbor Danny were sitting outside just chilling and drinking beers.

I told them what what I had heard and Danny said, “Don’t pay attention to them, they don’t know anything. Yes, he lost 20 games for the Mets in 62, but it was hardly his fault.”

Understand that this guy Danny did more to mold me into a Mets fan than anyone else in my life aside from my uncle. He told me that Jackson pitched his heart out for one of the worst teams in baseball history and that he was the actually best pitcher in the rotation.

The next day he gave me a 1969 Topps baseball card of Jackson and from that day on I became one of his biggest fans and I became more curious to learn about those early Mets teams. I held onto that card almost my entire life until our house was robbed and in addition to all my parent’s jewelry and valuables, my baseball card collection was gone too. I cried my eyes out.

I knew Al Jackson wasn’t doing too well and that he had suffered a stroke a few years ago. But it was so nice to see him at a couple of recent Mets events, greeting fans and taking photos with them. I was pretty happy for him and Ed Kranepool too who was with him. So yeah, the news of his passing was still jarring to me.

If my old neighbor and friend Danny were still alive today, I know he’d say that despite those two 20-loss seasons, Jackson had a lot of memorable moments for the Mets and notable ones as well.

In 1962, Jackson tossed the longest recorded complete game in MLB history, a 4 hour and 35 minute affair that the Mets lost 3-1 to the Philadelphia Phillies. Also in that inaugural season, he tossed a one-hitter against the Houston Colt 45’s, the lone hit coming from Joey Amalfitano.

Jackson also tossed another shutout that season, a 1-0 win over Hall of Famer Bob Gibson, and a feat he would accomplish again two seasons later in 1964. In fact, Jackson held the franchise record with ten career shutouts until a fella by the name of Tom Seaver came along and broke it.

When the Mets opened Shea Stadium in 1964, it was “Little Al” as he was called, who was the starting pitcher when they won their first game at their new home.

After his playing days were over, Jackson was a minor league instructor for the Mets for over ten years, and even became a member of Bobby Valentine‘s coaching staff in 1999 and again in 2000 when the Mets would become National League Champions.

Baseball didn’t lose a Hall of Famer today, but you could make a strong case that the Mets lost one of their all-time greats –  both as a player and coach, and also as a true team ambassador from our humble beginnings to  his unfortunate end. I never knew you personally Al, but it always felt like I did… Rest in Peace.