Good Morning, Mets fans!

It is a strange and somber time in baseball right now, with the Mets and Marlins opting not to play yesterday in a stand against social injustice.

They will play a doubleheader today against the Yankees, with first pitch of game one set for 4:05 PM at Yankee Stadium.

Latest Mets News

The Mets and Marlins took the field, held a 42-second moment of silence, then left the field and did not return to play.

Latest MLB News

The following games were not played yesterday: Mets/Marlins, Rockies/Diamondbacks, Red Sox/Blue Jays, Phillies/Nationals, A’s/Rangers, Orioles/Rays, and Twins/Tigers, as the entire league continues to show their support for the ongoing Black Lives Matter movement in the wake of recent tragic events.

Per Jon Heyman of MLB Network, the Brewers released Brock Holt from his contract.

Per Jeff Passan of ESPN, the Rays acquired Brett Phillips from the Royals for Lucius Fox.

Rob Manfred spoke on the idea of a prospect development league for college players during the summer.

The Players Alliance will be donating their salaries from yesterday and today towards social justice causes.

RedSox manager Ron Roenicke gave an emotional insight to his feelings about recent conversations within Boston’s clubhouse.

Latest NL East News

Rhys Hoskins spoke on his reaction from listening to Dom Smith’s postgame interview.

Latest on MMO

Michael Mayer looked into how the Mets got bit by the hot mic again, this time through Brodie Van Wagenen.

Thomas Hall investigated the lack of command Steven Matz has had on his breaking ball this season.

Michelle Ioannou encourages Mets fans to donate to Dom Smith’s charity.

On This Day In Mets History

Birthdays: Joel Youngblood (69), Mike Torrez (74), Billy Cowan (82)

On a personal note, this will be my last article for MMO for a little bit. I have some things to take care of in my personal life, on top of starting my freshman year of college in the coming weeks. I will be back before too long, once my personal affairs are in order. Until then, thank you for reading, and let’s go Mets.

The post Morning Briefing: Mets and Marlins Vote Not To Play appeared first on Metsmerized.

When he removed his Mets uniform for the final time he was our all-time leader in hits, runs, RBI, doubles and 2nd in batting average. There was no fanfare, no celebration of his achievements, no day honoring his accomplishments after a decade of playing in New York.  Instead, he lumbered away, head down, disgraced, a beaten man.

He’s one of very few Mets who can call himself a two-time pennant winnlooper. He had a direct impact on both the 1969 and 1973 seasons. Teammate Buddy Harrelson said of him, “Even if he was in a 0-for-20 slump, he was the guy you’d still want at-bat.”

Tom Seaver was our first superstar. But this man was our first offensive superstar. He caught a fly ball off the bat of Davey Johnson and dropped to one knee, an image that remains one of the most iconic in team history.

He was never given a snazzy nickname like Doctor K, Nails, Kid, or The Franchise. Instead, we referred to him by his given name only: Cleon

Cleon Jones was born August 4, 1942 in Mobile, AL, the same birthplace as Hank Aaron. He’d wear number 21, the same as Roberto Clemente. His first Major League game was playing center field in the Polo Grounds, the same position patrolled by Willie Mays. And although Cleon was nowhere near the player these Hall of Famers were, it was okay. Because he was our legend.

Numerous players throughout history have been seemingly predestined for a career in the majors, be it the ability to throw a ball at 100 MPH with pinpoint accuracy, blinding speed or remarkable hand-eye coordination. Cleon was not one of them.

Whereas some burst onto the scene, Cleon yo-yoed for several years between the majors and minors. Wearing number 34, he made his major league debut on September 14, 1963. Manager Casey Stengel put the 21-year-old in as a defensive replacement for Duke Carmel. In what would be one of the final games ever played at the Polo Grounds, Cleon played center field. And like Moonlight Graham’s one inning, they never hit the ball anywhere near him.

Cleon had 15 at-bats that September, getting just two hits for a forgettable .133 batting average.

Jones spent all of the 1964 season with the Triple-A Buffalo Bisons. The following year, he made the team out of spring training. However, after one month and a meager .156 average, he was once again demoted to Buffalo. Cleon was a late-season call-up and on September 22, 1965, in a 6-2 loss to Pittsburgh, he hit his first major league home run, a solo blast off of right-hander Bob Friend. Despite the dinger, however, he batted just .149, 11-for-74 and still looked overmatched and not quite ready.

In 1966, Cleon was named the Mets everyday starting center fielder. Not because of an overwhelmingly solid performance, but largely due to the fact the Mets had little else. In his first full season, he improved, batting .275 with 74 runs and 16 steals. His performance earned him fourth place in the Rookie of the Year voting.

There was optimism coming into 1967. For the first time, the Mets had NOT lost 100 games the previous season and two rookie pitchers, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman, showed lots of potential. However, Cleon backpedaled. His BA dipped to a disappointing .247 and he ended up in a CF platoon with Larry Stahl. The team as a whole also backtracked, once again losing over 100 times that year. Six seasons, five of which saw more than 100 losses. Would things ever improve?

In 1968, Cleon was shifted to left field to make room for a newly acquired center fielder. Tommie Agee had been AL Rookie of the Year in 1966 and was a childhood friend of Cleon. Management also brought in a new manager, much loved former Brooklyn Dodger Gil Hodges. Despite Hodges, Agee and defending NL Rookie of the Year Tom Seaver, Cleon’s struggles returned. Six weeks into the season he was hitting just .205 and found himself in a platoon again, this time with Art Shamsky.

Then it happened. Something clicked.

On May 18, Cleon went 3-for-4 with a home run, two RBI’s and a pair of runs scored. He started to hit. And there was no stopping him. On July 16th against the Phillies at Connie Mack Stadium, number 21 went 4-for-6 with 3 RBI a run scored and he played all three OF positions. He ended the season batting .297, fourth best in the NL. Next up: 1969. And our left fielder was in the center of it all.

Although he notoriously started slow and was always a streaky hitter, Cleon was 26 and coming into his prime. He kicked butt from Opening Day and never looked back. By the All-Star Break he was batting .341 with 10 HR’s and 56 RBI’s, good enough to earn a starting spot in the Mid-Summer Classic along with the likes of Aaron, Johnny Bench, Willie McCovey and future teammate Felix Millan. Cleon went 2-for-4 with two runs scored against the best the American League had.

By that summer Mets fans were beginning to think the unthinkable. The team that had lost 737 games in seven seasons actually had a good chance to finish .500. However, Gil Hodges, a man who knew a lot about winning, wanted more. In late July the Mets were 55-41 and in second place, just five games behind the powerhouse Cubs. Despite the fact Chicago was laden with future Hall of Famers Billy Williams, Ron Santo and Fergie Jenkins, Hodges kept the Cubs right in the Mets’ crosshairs.

July 30th in Houston was the turning point in the season. And yes, Cleon was again in the center of it. The Mets got trounced in the first game of a doubleheader, 16-3. The Astros continued the embarrassment in the nightcap, jumping all over Gary Gentry for 8 ER in 2 2/3 IP. In the third inning, Cleon failed to hustle after a ball that went for a double.

To Gil Hodges, it didn’t matter that the Mets were in a pennant race for the first time in their history. It didn’t matter that Cleon Jones was an All-Star. It didn’t matter that he was our best hitter. The Mets skipper would not sit idly by tolerating lackadaisical play. Hodges, stoic as always, stepped from the dugout, took a lengthy slow walk to left field and conferred with his star hitter. After a few words, Hodges turned and walked off the field. Cleon, like a chastised little boy, shadowed Hodges into the dugout.

Years later, Jones claimed he advised Hodges the turf was wet. Hodges replied there must be something wrong with his ankle and pulled him from the game. “Gil was my favorite manager I ever played for,” Cleon clarified years later. “He’d never embarrass a player that way.” We may never know the true content of the conversation. However, the implication was undeniable. This was Gil Hodges’ team. You either play hard or you don’t play. The Mets lost the nightcap, 11-5. They wouldn’t lose too many more after that.

Hodges’ club played .780 baseball, winning 39 of the last 50 games and capturing the division by 8 games. Leo Durocher and the Cubs were stunned. Cleon ended up hitting .340 for the season, third behind Pete Rose and Roberto Clemente.

In the first ever NLCS, the Mets swept the Braves. Cleon hit 429.

In the World Series few gave the Mets any chance of defeating the mighty Baltimore Orioles. And when Don Buford opened the Fall Classic with a homer off 25-game winner Tom Seaver, it appeared we were out of Miracles.

The Mets tied the series when Jerry Koosman outdueled Dave McNally 2-1. Back in New York for game three, the Mets drew first blood. Tommie Agee opened the game with a HR. He also made not one but two of the greatest catches in history. Gary Gentry outpitched future Hall of Famer Jim Palmer for a 5-0 Mets win. In game 4, Seaver returned to form. After struggling in the opener, Tom Terrific threw 10 innings, the Mets prevailed 2-1 and were now one win away from a championship.

The Orioles, however, showed why they won 109 games. Needing a win to return the series to Baltimore, they scored early off Koosman and took a 3-0 lead. In the top of the 6th, Kooz delivered an inside pitch. Frank Robinson claimed the pitch hit him. Home plate umpire Lou DiMuro disagreed. Replays clearly showed DiMuro blew the call.

Lightning struck again in the bottom of that same inning. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it. McNally threw a pitch low. Cleon danced out of the way, the ball ricocheted into the Mets dugout. Cleon, like Robinson, claimed the ball hit him. DiMuro claimed it did not.

Mets skipper Gil Hodges ever-so-slowly walked onto the field and presented a ball with shoe polish to the umpire. DiMuro changed the call and awarded Cleon First Base. Seconds later, Donn Clendenon deposited McNally’s offering beyond the LF auxiliary scoreboard to cut the lead to 3-2. And about one hour after that with the Mets now leading 5-3 it was down to the final out. Cleon caught that fly ball and dropped to one knee. The Lovable Losers were now World Champs.

“The thing that always gets me about that team — and we were one of the worst teams in baseball the year before — is that from spring training on, Gil Hodges, our manager, kept telling us we could be a winning team, a good team, that we could be a championship-challenging team,” Jones said. “A bunch of us looked at each other and smiled. We thought he was crazy.”

In the late 60’s and early 70’s, pitching dominated the game, especially in the NL. Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Don Sutton and Phil Niekro, all future inductees in Cooperstown, quieted NL bats. But don’t tell that to Cleon. From 68-71 Cleon averaged 308 at the plate.

The 1973 NL East was a dogfight of mediocrity. On August 30th, the Mets were in last place, but just 6 ½ back with 30 games remaining. Just like 1969, the Mets got hot at the right time. By September 17th, the Mets inched up to 4th, were just 3 ½ GB of Pittsburgh—with the Mets and Pirates playing a rare 5-game series–2 in Pittsburgh, 3 in New York. The two contests at Three Rivers were split and the series headed to Shea for three very crucial games.

The Mets captured the opener, 7-3, and for only the second time in his career, Cleon went deep twice in one game. The lead was trimmed to a game a half. The following day, September 20th, one of the strangest yet most memorable plays in team history occurred. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it.

Jerry Koosman faced off against Jim Rooker. A Mets victory would bring us to within a half, a loss would shove us 2 ½ back with just nine games remaining. It was a back-and-forth contest. Pittsburgh took a 1-0 lead in the 4th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 6th. Pittsburgh took a 2-1 lead in the top of the 7th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 8th. Pittsburgh scored 1 in the top of the 9th to go up 3-2. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 9th.

In the top of the 13th, Richie Zisk singled with one out. Pinch Hitter Dave Augustine came up and sent the Ray Sadecki pitch into the night. Cleon turned and ran…and ran…and ran some more. The ball did not go over. Nor did it bounce off the wall. It bounced on top of the wall. Cleon played the carom perfectly, pivoted and fired to relay man Wayne Garrett who turned and threw a bullet to catcher Ron Hodges who applied the tag to keep the game deadlocked at 3-3. In the bottom half of the inning, the Mets would win the game and vault into first place with the post-season now within our grasp.

In the 1973 League Championship Series against the Big Red Machine, Cleon batted .300, 6-for-20 with three RBI and three runs scored. In the World Series against Oakland, Cleon hit .286. Of his eight hits, three were for extra bases. He scored five runs in seven games.

In 1975, it would all come crashing down like a Shakespearean tragedy. Spring training saw Cleon suffer a knee injury. He stayed behind when the team went north. On the morning of May 4 in St. Petersburg, FL, Cleon Jones was arrested at 5:00 am. The charge? Indecent exposure.

Police found the 33-year-old sleeping inside a van next to a 21-year-old female who was in possession of marijuana. Cleon insisted he didn’t know the woman, that he met her at a party and was giving her a ride home when the van ran out of gas and they fell asleep. Ultimately, the charges were dropped. “Indecent exposure” was the fact Cleon was barefoot. However, in the eyes of Mets chairman M. Donald Grant this was inexcusable debauchery.

Grant was an autocrat, a tyrant who viewed his players as chattel. He once relinquished his membership to an exclusive Connecticut country club when he learned an inferior individual named Tom Seaver was also a member.

Grant fined Cleon $2,000, four times more than any other major league player had ever been fined. Worse than the financial punishment was the degradation imposed on the Mets superstar. In the glare of the media, with cameras recording every mannerism, spotlights bathing him in a stifling glow and situated behind a bank of microphones angled like missiles about to launch, Cleon was ordered to apologize to fans, to teammates, to his employer, and to his wife, Angela, who Grant insisted she appear at his side.

He returned to the team in late May. But was not welcomed back. As if the financial punishment and humiliation were not enough, the order had come down from the front office that Cleon was to only play sparingly. For two months, the Mets’ icon was largely relegated to riding the pine. He seldom started and was used meagerly as a pinch-hitter. Such sparse play inhibited his ability to get anything going and messed with his timing, extra burdensome knowing he was notoriously streaky. In July he reached his breaking point. Hitting only .240 he got into an altercation with manager Yogi Berra. Grant now had more ammo and fired the fatal bullet. After 13 seasons, Jones was released outright.

The following year, 1976, he played for the White Sox but Cleon, a slow-starter, was hitting just .200 and was promptly released. Cleon Jones, loved and adored by fans in New York, a World Champion, an All-Star, an almost Rookie of the Year, and almost batting champion, was unwanted by any club. He was shamed out of baseball at the age of 33. It was a brutally sad way to end a career.

For those of us lucky enough to have seen him play, he was the one that made you sit a little closer to the TV, move up onto the edge of your seat at Shea and chant “Lets Go Mets” a little louder. He was the one you always made sure to watch when he stepped to the plate, the one guy you wanted to get to in the batting order if you were trailing. He was flashy without being flashy.

It’s been 44 years since Cleon wore a Mets uniform. He played at a time when pitching dominated the game. And despite the fact that names like Strawberry, Hernandez, Piazza, Carter, Wright, Ventura and Reyes came after him, Cleon Jones still remains near the top of the franchise leaders in runs, hits, doubles and RBIs.

Cleon Jones is deservingly a member of the Mets’ Hall of Fame and remains one of the best hitters to be developed by the Mets’ organization. In 2012, he was selected as the Mets’ “All-Time Left Fielder” by a panel of sports writers and broadcasters, an honor which he said “means a lot to me.”

Jones was certainly one prospect who, if he didn’t quite reach the lofty expectations fans may have had, certainly made his mark as an all-time great Met.

The post Cleon Jones: Our First Homegrown Star appeared first on Metsmerized.

When he removed his Mets uniform for the final time he was our all-time leader in hits, runs, RBI, doubles and 2nd in batting average. There was no fanfare, no celebration of his achievements, no day honoring his accomplishments after a decade of playing in New York.  Instead, he lumbered away, head down, disgraced, a beaten man.

He’s one of very few Mets who can call himself a two-time pennant winnlooper. He had a direct impact on both the 1969 and 1973 seasons. Teammate Buddy Harrelson said of him, “Even if he was in a 0-for-20 slump, he was the guy you’d still want at-bat.”

Tom Seaver was our first superstar. But this man was our first offensive superstar. He caught a fly ball off the bat of Davey Johnson and dropped to one knee, an image that remains one of the most iconic in team history.

He was never given a snazzy nickname like Doctor K, Nails, Kid, or The Franchise. Instead, we referred to him by his given name only: Cleon

Cleon Jones was born August 4, 1942 in Mobile, AL, the same birthplace as Hank Aaron. He’d wear number 21, the same as Roberto Clemente. His first Major League game was playing center field in the Polo Grounds, the same position patrolled by Willie Mays. And although Cleon was nowhere near the player these Hall of Famers were, it was okay. Because he was our legend.

Numerous players throughout history have been seemingly predestined for a career in the majors, be it the ability to throw a ball at 100 MPH with pinpoint accuracy, blinding speed or remarkable hand-eye coordination. Cleon was not one of them.

Whereas some burst onto the scene, Cleon yo-yoed for several years between the majors and minors. Wearing number 34, he made his major league debut on September 14, 1963. Manager Casey Stengel put the 21-year-old in as a defensive replacement for Duke Carmel. In what would be one of the final games ever played at the Polo Grounds, Cleon played center field. And like Moonlight Graham’s one inning, they never hit the ball anywhere near him.

Cleon had 15 at-bats that September, getting just two hits for a forgettable .133 batting average.

Jones spent all of the 1964 season with the Triple-A Buffalo Bisons. The following year, he made the team out of spring training. However, after one month and a meager .156 average, he was once again demoted to Buffalo. Cleon was a late-season call-up and on September 22, 1965, in a 6-2 loss to Pittsburgh, he hit his first major league home run, a solo blast off of right-hander Bob Friend. Despite the dinger, however, he batted just .149, 11-for-74 and still looked overmatched and not quite ready.

In 1966, Cleon was named the Mets everyday starting center fielder. Not because of an overwhelmingly solid performance, but largely due to the fact the Mets had little else. In his first full season, he improved, batting .275 with 74 runs and 16 steals. His performance earned him fourth place in the Rookie of the Year voting.

There was optimism coming into 1967. For the first time, the Mets had NOT lost 100 games the previous season and two rookie pitchers, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman, showed lots of potential. However, Cleon backpedaled. His BA dipped to a disappointing .247 and he ended up in a CF platoon with Larry Stahl. The team as a whole also backtracked, once again losing over 100 times that year. Six seasons, five of which saw more than 100 losses. Would things ever improve?

In 1968, Cleon was shifted to left field to make room for a newly acquired center fielder. Tommie Agee had been AL Rookie of the Year in 1966 and was a childhood friend of Cleon. Management also brought in a new manager, much loved former Brooklyn Dodger Gil Hodges. Despite Hodges, Agee and defending NL Rookie of the Year Tom Seaver, Cleon’s struggles returned. Six weeks into the season he was hitting just .205 and found himself in a platoon again, this time with Art Shamsky.

Then it happened. Something clicked.

On May 18, Cleon went 3-for-4 with a home run, two RBI’s and a pair of runs scored. He started to hit. And there was no stopping him. On July 16th against the Phillies at Connie Mack Stadium, number 21 went 4-for-6 with 3 RBI a run scored and he played all three OF positions. He ended the season batting .297, fourth best in the NL. Next up: 1969. And our left fielder was in the center of it all.

Although he notoriously started slow and was always a streaky hitter, Cleon was 26 and coming into his prime. He kicked butt from Opening Day and never looked back. By the All-Star Break he was batting .341 with 10 HR’s and 56 RBI’s, good enough to earn a starting spot in the Mid-Summer Classic along with the likes of Aaron, Johnny Bench, Willie McCovey and future teammate Felix Millan. Cleon went 2-for-4 with two runs scored against the best the American League had.

By that summer Mets fans were beginning to think the unthinkable. The team that had lost 737 games in seven seasons actually had a good chance to finish .500. However, Gil Hodges, a man who knew a lot about winning, wanted more. In late July the Mets were 55-41 and in second place, just five games behind the powerhouse Cubs. Despite the fact Chicago was laden with future Hall of Famers Billy Williams, Ron Santo and Fergie Jenkins, Hodges kept the Cubs right in the Mets’ crosshairs.

July 30th in Houston was the turning point in the season. And yes, Cleon was again in the center of it. The Mets got trounced in the first game of a doubleheader, 16-3. The Astros continued the embarrassment in the nightcap, jumping all over Gary Gentry for 8 ER in 2 2/3 IP. In the third inning, Cleon failed to hustle after a ball that went for a double.

To Gil Hodges, it didn’t matter that the Mets were in a pennant race for the first time in their history. It didn’t matter that Cleon Jones was an All-Star. It didn’t matter that he was our best hitter. The Mets skipper would not sit idly by tolerating lackadaisical play. Hodges, stoic as always, stepped from the dugout, took a lengthy slow walk to left field and conferred with his star hitter. After a few words, Hodges turned and walked off the field. Cleon, like a chastised little boy, shadowed Hodges into the dugout.

Years later, Jones claimed he advised Hodges the turf was wet. Hodges replied there must be something wrong with his ankle and pulled him from the game. “Gil was my favorite manager I ever played for,” Cleon clarified years later. “He’d never embarrass a player that way.” We may never know the true content of the conversation. However, the implication was undeniable. This was Gil Hodges’ team. You either play hard or you don’t play. The Mets lost the nightcap, 11-5. They wouldn’t lose too many more after that.

Hodges’ club played .780 baseball, winning 39 of the last 50 games and capturing the division by 8 games. Leo Durocher and the Cubs were stunned. Cleon ended up hitting .340 for the season, third behind Pete Rose and Roberto Clemente.

In the first ever NLCS, the Mets swept the Braves. Cleon hit 429.

In the World Series few gave the Mets any chance of defeating the mighty Baltimore Orioles. And when Don Buford opened the Fall Classic with a homer off 25-game winner Tom Seaver, it appeared we were out of Miracles.

The Mets tied the series when Jerry Koosman outdueled Dave McNally 2-1. Back in New York for game three, the Mets drew first blood. Tommie Agee opened the game with a HR. He also made not one but two of the greatest catches in history. Gary Gentry outpitched future Hall of Famer Jim Palmer for a 5-0 Mets win. In game 4, Seaver returned to form. After struggling in the opener, Tom Terrific threw 10 innings, the Mets prevailed 2-1 and were now one win away from a championship.

The Orioles, however, showed why they won 109 games. Needing a win to return the series to Baltimore, they scored early off Koosman and took a 3-0 lead. In the top of the 6th, Kooz delivered an inside pitch. Frank Robinson claimed the pitch hit him. Home plate umpire Lou DiMuro disagreed. Replays clearly showed DiMuro blew the call.

Lightning struck again in the bottom of that same inning. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it. McNally threw a pitch low. Cleon danced out of the way, the ball ricocheted into the Mets dugout. Cleon, like Robinson, claimed the ball hit him. DiMuro claimed it did not.

Mets skipper Gil Hodges ever-so-slowly walked onto the field and presented a ball with shoe polish to the umpire. DiMuro changed the call and awarded Cleon First Base. Seconds later, Donn Clendenon deposited McNally’s offering beyond the LF auxiliary scoreboard to cut the lead to 3-2. And about one hour after that with the Mets now leading 5-3 it was down to the final out. Cleon caught that fly ball and dropped to one knee. The Lovable Losers were now World Champs.

“The thing that always gets me about that team — and we were one of the worst teams in baseball the year before — is that from spring training on, Gil Hodges, our manager, kept telling us we could be a winning team, a good team, that we could be a championship-challenging team,” Jones said. “A bunch of us looked at each other and smiled. We thought he was crazy.”

In the late 60’s and early 70’s, pitching dominated the game, especially in the NL. Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Don Sutton and Phil Niekro, all future inductees in Cooperstown, quieted NL bats. But don’t tell that to Cleon. From 68-71 Cleon averaged 308 at the plate.

The 1973 NL East was a dogfight of mediocrity. On August 30th, the Mets were in last place, but just 6 ½ back with 30 games remaining. Just like 1969, the Mets got hot at the right time. By September 17th, the Mets inched up to 4th, were just 3 ½ GB of Pittsburgh—with the Mets and Pirates playing a rare 5-game series–2 in Pittsburgh, 3 in New York. The two contests at Three Rivers were split and the series headed to Shea for three very crucial games.

The Mets captured the opener, 7-3, and for only the second time in his career, Cleon went deep twice in one game. The lead was trimmed to a game a half. The following day, September 20th, one of the strangest yet most memorable plays in team history occurred. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it.

Jerry Koosman faced off against Jim Rooker. A Mets victory would bring us to within a half, a loss would shove us 2 ½ back with just nine games remaining. It was a back-and-forth contest. Pittsburgh took a 1-0 lead in the 4th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 6th. Pittsburgh took a 2-1 lead in the top of the 7th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 8th. Pittsburgh scored 1 in the top of the 9th to go up 3-2. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 9th.

In the top of the 13th, Richie Zisk singled with one out. Pinch Hitter Dave Augustine came up and sent the Ray Sadecki pitch into the night. Cleon turned and ran…and ran…and ran some more. The ball did not go over. Nor did it bounce off the wall. It bounced on top of the wall. Cleon played the carom perfectly, pivoted and fired to relay man Wayne Garrett who turned and threw a bullet to catcher Ron Hodges who applied the tag to keep the game deadlocked at 3-3. In the bottom half of the inning, the Mets would win the game and vault into first place with the post-season now within our grasp.

In the 1973 League Championship Series against the Big Red Machine, Cleon batted .300, 6-for-20 with three RBI and three runs scored. In the World Series against Oakland, Cleon hit .286. Of his eight hits, three were for extra bases. He scored five runs in seven games.

In 1975, it would all come crashing down like a Shakespearean tragedy. Spring training saw Cleon suffer a knee injury. He stayed behind when the team went north. On the morning of May 4 in St. Petersburg, FL, Cleon Jones was arrested at 5:00 am. The charge? Indecent exposure.

Police found the 33-year-old sleeping inside a van next to a 21-year-old female who was in possession of marijuana. Cleon insisted he didn’t know the woman, that he met her at a party and was giving her a ride home when the van ran out of gas and they fell asleep. Ultimately, the charges were dropped. “Indecent exposure” was the fact Cleon was barefoot. However, in the eyes of Mets chairman M. Donald Grant this was inexcusable debauchery.

Grant was an autocrat, a tyrant who viewed his players as chattel. He once relinquished his membership to an exclusive Connecticut country club when he learned an inferior individual named Tom Seaver was also a member.

Grant fined Cleon $2,000, four times more than any other major league player had ever been fined. Worse than the financial punishment was the degradation imposed on the Mets superstar. In the glare of the media, with cameras recording every mannerism, spotlights bathing him in a stifling glow and situated behind a bank of microphones angled like missiles about to launch, Cleon was ordered to apologize to fans, to teammates, to his employer, and to his wife, Angela, who Grant insisted she appear at his side.

He returned to the team in late May. But was not welcomed back. As if the financial punishment and humiliation were not enough, the order had come down from the front office that Cleon was to only play sparingly. For two months, the Mets’ icon was largely relegated to riding the pine. He seldom started and was used meagerly as a pinch-hitter. Such sparse play inhibited his ability to get anything going and messed with his timing, extra burdensome knowing he was notoriously streaky. In July he reached his breaking point. Hitting only .240 he got into an altercation with manager Yogi Berra. Grant now had more ammo and fired the fatal bullet. After 13 seasons, Jones was released outright.

The following year, 1976, he played for the White Sox but Cleon, a slow-starter, was hitting just .200 and was promptly released. Cleon Jones, loved and adored by fans in New York, a World Champion, an All-Star, an almost Rookie of the Year, and almost batting champion, was unwanted by any club. He was shamed out of baseball at the age of 33. It was a brutally sad way to end a career.

For those of us lucky enough to have seen him play, he was the one that made you sit a little closer to the TV, move up onto the edge of your seat at Shea and chant “Lets Go Mets” a little louder. He was the one you always made sure to watch when he stepped to the plate, the one guy you wanted to get to in the batting order if you were trailing. He was flashy without being flashy.

It’s been 44 years since Cleon wore a Mets uniform. He played at a time when pitching dominated the game. And despite the fact that names like Strawberry, Hernandez, Piazza, Carter, Wright, Ventura and Reyes came after him, Cleon Jones still remains near the top of the franchise leaders in runs, hits, doubles and RBIs.

Cleon Jones is deservingly a member of the Mets’ Hall of Fame and remains one of the best hitters to be developed by the Mets’ organization. In 2012, he was selected as the Mets’ “All-Time Left Fielder” by a panel of sports writers and broadcasters, an honor which he said “means a lot to me.”

Jones was certainly one prospect who, if he didn’t quite reach the lofty expectations fans may have had, certainly made his mark as an all-time great Met.

The post All-Time Mets: Cleon Jones, Our First Homegrown Star appeared first on Metsmerized.

When he removed his Mets uniform for the final time he was our all-time leader in hits, runs, RBI, doubles and 2nd in batting average. There was no fanfare, no celebration of his achievements, no day honoring his accomplishments after a decade of playing in New York.  Instead, he lumbered away, head down, disgraced, a beaten man.

He’s one of very few Mets who can call himself a two-time pennant winner. He had a direct impact on both the 1969 and 1973 seasons. Teammate Buddy Harrelson said of him, “Even if he was in a 0-for-20 slump, he was the guy you’d still want at-bat.”

Tom Seaver was our first superstar. But this man was our first offensive superstar. He caught a fly ball off the bat of Davey Johnson and dropped to one knee, an image that remains one of the most iconic in team history.

He was never given a snazzy nickname like Doctor K, Nails, Kid, or The Franchise. Instead, we referred to him by his given name only: Cleon

Cleon Jones was born August 4, 1942 in Mobile, AL, the same birthplace as Hank Aaron. He’d wear number 21, the same as Roberto Clemente. His first Major League game was playing center field in the Polo Grounds, the same position patrolled by Willie Mays. And although Cleon was nowhere near the player these Hall of Famers were, it was okay. Because he was our legend.

Numerous players throughout history have been seemingly predestined for a career in the majors, be it the ability to throw a ball at 100 MPH with pinpoint accuracy, blinding speed or remarkable hand-eye coordination. Cleon was not one of them.

Whereas some burst onto the scene, Cleon yo-yoed for several years between the majors and minors. Wearing number 34, he made his major league debut on September 14, 1963. Manager Casey Stengel put the 21-year-old in as a defensive replacement for Duke Carmel. In what would be one of the final games ever played at the Polo Grounds, Cleon played center field. And like Moonlight Graham’s one inning, they never hit the ball anywhere near him.

Cleon had 15 at-bats that September, getting just two hits for a forgettable .133 batting average.

Jones spent all of the 1964 season with the Triple-A Buffalo Bisons. The following year, he made the team out of spring training. However, after one month and a meager .156 average, he was once again demoted to Buffalo. Cleon was a late-season call-up and on September 22, 1965, in a 6-2 loss to Pittsburgh, he hit his first major league home run, a solo blast off of right-hander Bob Friend. Despite the dinger, however, he batted just .149, 11-for-74 and still looked overmatched and not quite ready.

In 1966, Cleon was named the Mets everyday starting center fielder. Not because of an overwhelmingly solid performance, but largely due to the fact the Mets had little else. In his first full season, he improved, batting .275 with 74 runs and 16 steals. His performance earned him fourth place in the Rookie of the Year voting.

There was optimism coming into 1967. For the first time, the Mets had NOT lost 100 games the previous season and two rookie pitchers, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman, showed lots of potential. However, Cleon backpedaled. His BA dipped to a disappointing .247 and he ended up in a CF platoon with Larry Stahl. The team as a whole also backtracked, once again losing over 100 times that year. Six seasons, five of which saw more than 100 losses. Would things ever improve?

In 1968, Cleon was shifted to left field to make room for a newly acquired center fielder. Tommie Agee had been AL Rookie of the Year in 1966 and was a childhood friend of Cleon. Management also brought in a new manager, much loved former Brooklyn Dodger Gil Hodges. Despite Hodges, Agee and defending NL Rookie of the Year Tom Seaver, Cleon’s struggles returned. Six weeks into the season he was hitting just .205 and found himself in a platoon again, this time with Art Shamsky.

Then it happened. Something clicked.

On May 18, Cleon went 3-for-4 with a home run, two RBI’s and a pair of runs scored. He started to hit. And there was no stopping him. On July 16th against the Phillies at Connie Mack Stadium, number 21 went 4-for-6 with 3 RBI a run scored and he played all three OF positions. He ended the season batting .297, fourth best in the NL. Next up: 1969. And our left fielder was in the center of it all.

Although he notoriously started slow and was always a streaky hitter, Cleon was 26 and coming into his prime. He kicked butt from Opening Day and never looked back. By the All-Star Break he was batting .341 with 10 HR’s and 56 RBI’s, good enough to earn a starting spot in the Mid-Summer Classic along with the likes of Aaron, Johnny Bench, Willie McCovey and future teammate Felix Millan. Cleon went 2-for-4 with two runs scored against the best the American League had.

By that summer Mets fans were beginning to think the unthinkable. The team that had lost 737 games in seven seasons actually had a good chance to finish .500. However, Gil Hodges, a man who knew a lot about winning, wanted more. In late July the Mets were 55-41 and in second place, just five games behind the powerhouse Cubs. Despite the fact Chicago was laden with future Hall of Famers Billy Williams, Ron Santo and Fergie Jenkins, Hodges kept the Cubs right in the Mets’ crosshairs.

July 30th in Houston was the turning point in the season. And yes, Cleon was again in the center of it. The Mets got trounced in the first game of a doubleheader, 16-3. The Astros continued the embarrassment in the nightcap, jumping all over Gary Gentry for 8 ER in 2 2/3 IP. In the third inning, Cleon failed to hustle after a ball that went for a double.

To Gil Hodges, it didn’t matter that the Mets were in a pennant race for the first time in their history. It didn’t matter that Cleon Jones was an All-Star. It didn’t matter that he was our best hitter. The Mets skipper would not sit idly by tolerating lackadaisical play. Hodges, stoic as always, stepped from the dugout, took a lengthy slow walk to left field and conferred with his star hitter. After a few words, Hodges turned and walked off the field. Cleon, like a chastised little boy, shadowed Hodges into the dugout.

Years later, Jones claimed he advised Hodges the turf was wet. Hodges replied there must be something wrong with his ankle and pulled him from the game. “Gil was my favorite manager I ever played for,” Cleon clarified years later. “He’d never embarrass a player that way.” We may never know the true content of the conversation. However, the implication was undeniable. This was Gil Hodges’ team. You either play hard or you don’t play. The Mets lost the nightcap, 11-5. They wouldn’t lose too many more after that.

Hodges’ club played .780 baseball, winning 39 of the last 50 games and capturing the division by 8 games. Leo Durocher and the Cubs were stunned. Cleon ended up hitting .340 for the season, third behind Pete Rose and Roberto Clemente.

In the first ever NLCS, the Mets swept the Braves. Cleon hit 429.

In the World Series few gave the Mets any chance of defeating the mighty Baltimore Orioles. And when Don Buford opened the Fall Classic with a homer off 25-game winner Tom Seaver, it appeared we were out of Miracles.

The Mets tied the series when Jerry Koosman outdueled Dave McNally 2-1. Back in New York for game three, the Mets drew first blood. Tommie Agee opened the game with a HR. He also made not one but two of the greatest catches in history. Gary Gentry outpitched future Hall of Famer Jim Palmer for a 5-0 Mets win. In game 4, Seaver returned to form. After struggling in the opener, Tom Terrific threw 10 innings, the Mets prevailed 2-1 and were now one win away from a championship.

The Orioles, however, showed why they won 109 games. Needing a win to return the series to Baltimore, they scored early off Koosman and took a 3-0 lead. In the top of the 6th, Kooz delivered an inside pitch. Frank Robinson claimed the pitch hit him. Home plate umpire Lou DiMuro disagreed. Replays clearly showed DiMuro blew the call.

Lightning struck again in the bottom of that same inning. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it. McNally threw a pitch low. Cleon danced out of the way, the ball ricocheted into the Mets dugout. Cleon, like Robinson, claimed the ball hit him. DiMuro claimed it did not.

Mets skipper Gil Hodges ever-so-slowly walked onto the field and presented a ball with shoe polish to the umpire. DiMuro changed the call and awarded Cleon First Base. Seconds later, Donn Clendenon deposited McNally’s offering beyond the LF auxiliary scoreboard to cut the lead to 3-2. And about one hour after that with the Mets now leading 5-3 it was down to the final out. Cleon caught that fly ball and dropped to one knee. The Lovable Losers were now World Champs.

“The thing that always gets me about that team — and we were one of the worst teams in baseball the year before — is that from spring training on, Gil Hodges, our manager, kept telling us we could be a winning team, a good team, that we could be a championship-challenging team,” Jones said. “A bunch of us looked at each other and smiled. We thought he was crazy.”

In the late 60’s and early 70’s, pitching dominated the game, especially in the NL. Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Don Sutton and Phil Niekro, all future inductees in Cooperstown, quieted NL bats. But don’t tell that to Cleon. From 68-71 Cleon averaged 308 at the plate.

The 1973 NL East was a dogfight of mediocrity. On August 30th, the Mets were in last place, but just 6 ½ back with 30 games remaining. Just like 1969, the Mets got hot at the right time. By September 17th, the Mets inched up to 4th, were just 3 ½ GB of Pittsburgh—with the Mets and Pirates playing a rare 5-game series–2 in Pittsburgh, 3 in New York. The two contests at Three Rivers were split and the series headed to Shea for three very crucial games.

The Mets captured the opener, 7-3, and for only the second time in his career, Cleon went deep twice in one game. The lead was trimmed to a game a half. The following day, September 20th, one of the strangest yet most memorable plays in team history occurred. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it.

Jerry Koosman faced off against Jim Rooker. A Mets victory would bring us to within a half, a loss would shove us 2 ½ back with just 9 games remaining. It was a back-and-forth contest. Pittsburgh took a 1-0 lead in the 4th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 6th. Pittsburgh took a 2-1 lead in the top of the 7th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 8th. Pittsburgh scored 1 in the top of the 9th to go up 3-2. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 9th.

In the top of the 13th, Richie Zisk singled with one out. Pinch Hitter Dave Augustine came up and sent the Ray Sadecki pitch into the night. Cleon turned and ran…and ran…and ran some more. The ball did not go over. Nor did it bounce off the wall. It bounced on top of the wall. Cleon played the carom perfectly, pivoted and fired to relay man Wayne Garrett who turned and threw a bullet to catcher Ron Hodges who applied the tag to keep the game deadlocked at 3-3. In the bottom half of the inning, the Mets would win the game and vault into first place with the post-season now within our grasp.

In the 1973 League Championship Series against the Big Red Machine, Cleon batted .300, 6-for-20 with three RBI and three runs scored. In the World Series against Oakland, Cleon hit .286. Of his eight hits, three were for extra bases. He scored five runs in seven games.

In 1975, it would all come crashing down like a Shakespearean tragedy. Spring training saw Cleon suffer a knee injury. He stayed behind when the team went north. On the morning of May 4 in St. Petersburg, FL, Cleon Jones was arrested at 5:00 am. The charge? Indecent exposure.

Police found the 33-year-old sleeping inside a van next to a 21-year-old female who was in possession of marijuana. Cleon insisted he didn’t know the woman, that he met her at a party and was giving her a ride home when the van ran out of gas and they fell asleep. Ultimately, the charges were dropped. “Indecent exposure” was the fact Cleon was barefoot. However, in the eyes of Mets chairman M. Donald Grant this was inexcusable debauchery.

Grant was an autocrat, a tyrant who viewed his players as chattel. He once relinquished his membership to an exclusive Connecticut country club when he learned an inferior individual named Tom Seaver was also a member.

Grant fined Cleon $2,000, four times more than any other major league player had ever been fined. Worse than the financial punishment was the degradation imposed on the Mets superstar. In the glare of the media, with cameras recording every mannerism, spotlights bathing him in a stifling glow and situated behind a bank of microphones angled like missiles about to launch, Cleon was ordered to apologize to fans, to teammates, to his employer, and to his wife, Angela, who Grant insisted she appear at his side.

He returned to the team in late May. But was not welcomed back. As if the financial punishment and humiliation were not enough, the order had come down from the front office that Cleon was to only play sparingly. For two months, the Mets’ icon was largely relegated to riding the pine. He seldom started and was used meagerly as a pinch-hitter. Such sparse play inhibited his ability to get anything going and messed with his timing, extra burdensome knowing he was notoriously streaky. In July he reached his breaking point. Hitting only .240 he got into an altercation with manager Yogi Berra. Grant now had more ammo and fired the fatal bullet. After 13 seasons, Jones was released outright.

The following year, 1976, he played for the White Sox but Cleon, a slow-starter, was hitting just .200 and was promptly released. Cleon Jones, loved and adored by fans in New York, a World Champion, an All-Star, an almost Rookie of the Year, and almost batting champion, was unwanted by any club. He was shamed out of baseball at the age of 33. It was a brutally sad way to end a career.

For those of us lucky enough to have seen him play, he was the one that made you sit a little closer to the TV, move up onto the edge of your seat at Shea and chant Lets Go Mets a little louder. He was the one you always made sure to watch when he stepped to the plate, the one guy you wanted to get to in the batting order if you were trailing. He was flashy without being flashy.

It’s been 42 years since Cleon wore a Mets uniform. He played at a time when pitching dominated the game. And despite the fact that names like Strawberry, Hernandez, Piazza, Carter, Wright, Ventura and Reyes came after him, Cleon Jones still remains near the top of the franchise leaders in runs, hits, doubles and RBIs.

Cleon Jones is deservingly a member of the Mets’ Hall of Fame and remains one of the best hitters to be developed by the Mets’ organization. He was certainly one prospect who, if he didn’t quite reach the lofty expectations fans may have had, certainly made his mark as an all-time great Met.

The post Amazin’ Memories: Cleon Jones, the Agony and the Ecstasy appeared first on Metsmerized.

An MMO Fan Shot by MetsFanInParadise

The love of baseball runs through families. It’s passed from grandparent or parent to child. The bond baseball can form between between a father and child can be a special thing. It’s often portrayed in various art forms, and sports can be one medium across which the bond is built. The recent publicity about Adam LaRoche and his son is proof of this. One of my favorite movies is “Frequency,” which uses the 1969 World Series as a plot device, as a son tries to save his father’s life via a magical radio connection.

This will be the first baseball season I won’t be able to share with my father, Charles Martin Rosenblatt, who died a few weeks after the World Series ended last fall. Like many of us, the love of the game was passed down through the generations of my family, though it wasn’t a shared love to the extent that it is in some families.

As children, we think of our grandparents as, well, grandparents. The word often conjures up magic. Our memories of them are the sum of the hugs we sometimes didn’t get from our own parents, of kitchens smelling like sweet baked goods or savory holiday meals, of birthday and holiday cards with checks or $20 bills in them, and, for my generation anyway, of the rare airplane trip to Florida to visit them in Miami Beach-during the school year if you were REALLY lucky. We would return with exotic stories of Monkey Jungle and Sea World, airboat rides and alligator wrestlers But we don’t necessarily think of them as people, with complex personalities and relationships, particularly with their own children, our parents.

As I got older and understood the friction between my father and his parents, it made sense that Grandpa Abe was a Yankee fan, while my father grew up bleeding Dodger blue. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that it had been an intentional choice on my father’s part, to oppose his father. The Dodgers had moved west before my arrival on this earth, which was almost simultaneous with the Mets taking the field for their first Spring Training. (In fact, the start of Spring Training is annually my greatest birthday gift.) By that time my father, like most NY-Metro area NL fans, had transferred his allegiance to them and eventually it found its way deep into my soul.

We only went to one Yankee game with my grandfather. It was in 1970 or 1971. I know that because it was Bat Day. Can you imagine giving out usable wooden bats to a stadium full of children today? Not miniatures, but right-sized for kids to use competitively. My brother was fortunate enough to get one with Bobby Murcer‘s autograph stamped on it. Murcer was maybe the biggest name on those putrid Yankee teams of the Interregnum, between the wild Mantle-Ford teams, and the champion Bronx Zoo teams made possible by the advent of free agency and George Steinbrenner’s deep pockets and obsession with winning. Some of the other stalwarts of those late 60s-early 70s teams were Horace Clarke, Walt “No-Neck” Williams, and Roy White, a steady performer who was good enough to hang in there long enough to reach the mountaintop a few years later.

For a long time there was a Rodney Dangerfield element to me. The world didn’t seem to respect me, so it’s no surprise my bat carried the faux autograph of…Curt Blefary. Who? Lets just say the name didn’t fire my imagination. So rather than hitching my fan wagon to the Yankees’ star I puttered along as a casual fan, reading biographies of everyone from Stan Musial (my favorite, who received minor-league tutelage from Dickie Kerr, one of the few good eggs from the 1919 Black Sox) and the Splendid Splinter to New York icons Ruth, Gehrig, Jackie Robinson, Willie Mays and more.

I watched and listened to whatever games my father put on the TV or radio, which consisted of Mets and World Series games, and we went to Shea from the Jersey suburbs periodically, whenever my father (or school, or summer camp) decided to get a trip together. But it wasn’t at my instigation. My baseball knowledge expanded incrementally in other ways, too. Everyone in my family shares a love of words, so we would play games like Hangman, and my father’s puzzles would sometimes consist of historical baseball players with unusual names, like Sibby Sisti.

So baseball was part of the background of my life until Aug 31, 1973, when my imagination was fired up by the battle cry, “Ya Gotta Believe.” From then on the Mets were a daily obsession, and of course the family was clustered around the TV for the entire postseason. Pete Rose, Bud Harrelson, Jon Matlack, Willie Mays, Mike Andrews, Catfish Hunter, Darold Knowles, and Reggie Jackson were some of the players who stood out, for better or worse.

In 1974 I started collecting everything Mets I could get my hands on — mostly freebies, because I had very little money. I stood in line when Rusty Staub signed photos at the Menlo Park Mall that winter, wrote to the Mets for decals and schedules, piled up the free portrait photos with reproduced autographs given out at the Getty gas stations for a summer or 2—I had stacks of Mike Philips, Doug Flynn, Skip Lockwood and Dave Kingman photos, and tried to collect at least one card from each year of the team’s existence.

One of my treasures was a 1962 Chris Cannizarro — the catcher Casey Stengel referred to as “Canzoneri” (a boxer of the time). I even acquired NYC subway car ads from somewhere.

The family was breaking apart slowly, which seemed fairly common in the 70s, and I was unable to get us out to Big Shea as a group too often, but I remember a game in 1975.

It wasn’t hard to get field-level box seats at the time, the attendance was so poor, and they were only about $5.50, so I had a front row seat for the Expos’ Woodie Fryman‘s one-hitter against the Mets in 1975 a game which featured 4 former or future Mets in the Montreal lineup; Tim Foli, Mike Jorgenson, Pepe Mangual, and Gary Carter, in RF. John Stearns broke it up with a double. Fryman’s pitching coach that year? A former journeyman who had passed through Brooklyn at the start of his playing career so my father knew he had a noteworthy name—Calvin Coolidge Julius Caesar Tuskahoma (“Cal”) McLish.

Then I was off to college and pursuing solo adventures, such as driving in from Central Pennsylvania on Opening Day 1983 to find a scalper with a ticket and see Tom Seaver‘s return to the Mets. Getting my 1970 Plymouth Fury over the Poconos was an adventure in itself. I graduated in 1984 and, as previously documented, I went to quite a few games during 1986, but the only experience I got to share with my father that year was watching Game Seven of the World Series in my apartment. A few years after that I moved to Florida and my father stayed in NJ. For the next 15 years all we could do was talk about it.

In 2005 he finally decided to retire to Florida. All three of his children had moved down here in the interim, so he was very welcome. He came down in the spring and I found that the Mets would be here on his birthday, April 21st, so we (my brother also lives in this area) took him. The Mets won, 10-1, with Pedro Martinez starting and getting the win, and ex-Red Sox Doug Mientkiewicz hitting a grand slam in the second inning.

In 2006 we saw 2 or 3 games together. One was Aug 1, when Billy Wagner gave up a walk-off 2-run HR to Josh Willingham. I think that was the last regular season game we ever saw together in person (we also got to see them in Spring Training once or twice while the Baltimore Orioles were still based in Ft. Lauderdale-I never got up to Port St. Lucie until last spring). I fell on hard times for awhile, and my father found a girlfriend. He became a “snowbird,” spending the summer months in her home in Michigan. We watched games together, of course, either over the phone or on TV when he was in Florida, and talked baseball all the time.

Last summer’s glorious events went hand in hand with personal hardship and loss. During the Mets’ midsummer slog my father was rehabilitating from an automobile accident. Since he was in the Rehab facility where i work as Social Services Director, I was able to spend a lot of time with him and sometimes catch snippets of the games on my office computer. But by the time their turnaround seemed destined to land them in the postseason, the news had turned grim.

In August my father, discharged from Rehab and back on his feet, had gone belatedly with his companion to Michigan, to spend the end of the summer at her house. But the idyll quickly turned to tragedy, as he started to fall and lose the use of his right arm and leg, and he eventually checked himself into the hospital.

I was 6 rows behind first base on Sept. 5, the night Bartolo Colon made his famous behind-the-back flip. There was so much going on with our team that it would have been easy to be totally immersed in it: we were in between the 2 sweeps of the Nationals, and that was the weekend the controversy over Matt Harvey‘s innings limit hit the news. But it was also the night I found out about my father’s brain tumor.

The next couple of months were a blur. Trips to Detroit and countless phone calls with doctors were interspersed with “Tears of Joy,” but those weren’t the only tears I cried during that period. Since health care is my profession I took the lead in overseeing his care, signing forms and making arrangements to have him transported down here to spend his remaining time with his family. My brother and I watched playoff games with him in his hospital room in Detroit, and NLCS and World Series games with him from his Hospice room.

He retained enough of himself to be able to croak “Lets Go Mets” as they won the pennant. I was hoping they’d give him a most satisfying send-off, but we all know how their story ended. Soon after, my father’s story also ended.

The Mets carried me through last fall, when my father’s illness and the responsibility for arranging his care could have overwhelmed me. But they brought me a joy that still gets me choked up. I wouldn’t have had the same passion for the game, and the team, without my father, who transferred his rabid loyalty to the Mets from the Dodgers like so many other fans of that time, and nurtured it in me.

Now another winter has passed, more quickly than most thanks to the length of our season. Baseball really is a microcosm of life, as many have written. It stirs when nature is doing the same; animals emerging from hibernation and new plants emerging from under the blanket of snow. It bursts forth in all its exuberance like the fruit and the fireworks of summer, echoed in the carefree freedom of children out of school.

It draws to a conclusion, strewing heartbreak for most and satisfaction for the few, as the harvest closes the chapter on the year’s productivity, and then all the equipment is put away and the long winter’s slumber comes round again. Baseball, like life, provides as many failures as successes.

Unlike the NFL, no team goes undefeated. Every team wins at least 50 games and loses at least 50. Unlike a field-goal or free throw percentage in basketball, a champion batting average contains twice as much failure as success. It’s a test of character; another thing we acquire, in large part, from our parents.

I’m expecting a fantastic season for the Amazins, capped by a more satisfying repeat trip to the Fall Classic. Every time I enjoy another “Happy Recap” I’ll think of my father with gratitude for helping me become the fan I am, and wish he was here to enjoy the season with me.

* * * * * * * *

This MMO Fan Shot was written by MMO reader MetsFanInParadise. Have something you want to say about the Mets? Share your opinions with over 30,000 Met fans who read this site daily. Send your Fan Shot to FanShot@MetsmerizedOnline.com. Or ask us about becoming a regular contributor.

The post MMO Fan Shot: Baseball… The Family Game appeared first on Metsmerized.

The Mets. The Braves. Late September. This is what a pennant race is all about. It was the 148^th game that season and the defending NL Champion Mets were surging. We’d cut the lead from 13 ½ to just 5 ½ and now the first place Braves were coming to town. At least, that’s what a pennant race should be about.

But on this September night there was not the usual electricity in the air that accompanies a crucial ballgame. Instead there was a sadness. A feeling of fear, uncertainty, confusion. Tears were mixed with anger. Disbelief intertwined with vulnerability. As the Mets took the field, just eight miles away, in what was becoming known as Ground Zero, rescue workers were sifting through debris and clearing away rubble through the still billowing smoke.

For the first time in our nation’s history our mainland was attacked. For the first time in our nation’s history American citizens, regular people, were targeted by a cold hearted enemy. For the first time in our nation’s history, the game of Baseball was put on hold due to terrorism.

The Mets/Braves game on September 21, 2001 was the first sporting event that would ever be held in NY in a Post 9/11 America. From this point forward everything would be different. President Bush and others urged us to go back to our everyday life. The best way to show these gutless terrorists that a few planes could not destroy America or alter democracy was to get back to our daily routine. But how could we? Everything was different.

During the pre-game memorial, PA announcer Roger Luce exclaimed, “We now return to our National Pastime.” Easier said then done.

In spite of the Mets fighting long time rivals Atlanta in a huge series at Shea, there was a calmness in the air. Mets and Braves players exchanged hugs on the field before the game. The expression on the faces of Mets players was not one of determination to defeat Atlanta but instead, eyes were glossy, teary. Swallowing was a little harder. Diana Ross sung God Bless America before the game and Liza Minelli brought the Shea faithful to their collective feet with a powerful rendition of New York, New York. Even our mayor, avid Yankee fan Rudy Giuliani, was cheered at Shea.

For years, going to a Mets game meant hearing planes. We fans grew so accustomed to that familiar roar the sound of the jet engines didn’t even faze us anymore. This night, however, we glanced skyward when we heard planes overhead.

The game on the field seemed almost unimportant. We all questioned our own importance, our own place in life and for the first time realized that our shores were not impenetrable. These things only happen somewhere else, in a foreign country thousands of miles away. This only happens to strangers, not to family and friends, not to New York’s finest.

In the overall scheme of things, in the big picture, with the future of our country being questioned, did it really matter who won a meaningless baseball game in Flushing? Did anyone really care if Barry Bonds would break McGwire’s HR record? Was the farewell tour of Cal Ripken jr truly that important?

For seven and half innings Shea was eerily quiet. Sure, there were a couple chants of ‘Lets Go Mets’ that broke out but clearly, New York was not ready to cheer. All of that, however, ended in the bottom of the eighth.

Trailing 2-1 and with pinch runner Desi Relaford on first, Mike Piazza stepped to the plate.

Piazza hammered an 0-1 offering from Steve Karsay into the night. A monstrous blast that reached the camera platform beyond the wall in straight away center field. Hollywood couldn’t have scripted this stuff. Like Roy Hobbs, Piazza circled the bases. The only thing missing was the fireworks from the blown out light tower.

The Mets won 3-2 and cut the Braves lead to 4 ½. But the game meant more then that.

Americans had been urged to return to their every day life. It seemed a daunting task—until Piazza hit that shot. Cheers were heard in New York for the first time in over a week. Joyous screams filled the air from Flushing to downtown Manhattan. Things would now return to normal—slowly, but at least the days of darkness were ending. There was a light on the horizon. Once again, Barry Bonds’ HR chase DID matter. Cal Ripken’s farewell DID mean something.

But more important, the simple fact that a guy hit a baseball 400+ feet signified that New York was back. Baseball was back. And yes, America was on its way back.

Although one can argue there’s never been a bigger Home Run in team history, Piazza’s blast reached far beyond the box score of one game. It carried with it a significance that extended beyond Shea. It meant something, not just to a team, but to an entire city. An entire city now began to heal. And Mike Piazza gave us the medicine we needed.

In lower Manhattan rescue workers worked feverishly to clear the rubble of what had once been the most significant part of our world famous skyline. The symbols of American capitalism and the most symbolic office buildings in our city had been destroyed. Two buildings, 110 stories each that reached to the heavens, now lay in a smoldering pile of twisted metal and broken glass and within it, almost 3000 Americans.

A few miles to the north of where the WTC once stood another monument of a different kind also once stood. This one was called The Polo Grounds. Just 12 days after Piazza brought a city back from its knees, October 3, 2001 marked the 50 year anniversary of Bobby Thomson’s famous HR that handed the pennant to the NY Giants over the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Unlike Thomson the hit by Piazza did not clinch the pennant and send a team to the World Series. However, in the same tradition of Thomson, Piazza’s HR carried great meaning, both on and off the field. In more ways then one, it was yet another ‘Shot Heard ‘Round The World.’

The post Mike Piazza and the Return of Our National Pastime appeared first on Metsmerized.

When he removed his Mets uniform for the final time he was our all-time leader in hits, runs, RBI’s, doubles and 2^nd in batting average. There was no fanfare, no celebration of his achievements, no day honoring his accomplishments after a decade of playing in New York.  Instead, he lumbered away, head down, disgraced, a beaten man.

He’s one of very few Mets who can call himself a two-time pennant winner. He had a direct impact on both the 69 and 73 season. Teammate Buddy Harrelson said of him, “Even if he was in a 0-for-20 slump, he was the guy you’d still want at-bat.” Tom Seaver was our first superstar. But this man was our first offensive superstar. He caught a fly ball off the bat of Davey Johnson and dropped to one knee, an image that remains one of the most iconic in team history.

He was never given a snazzy nickname like Doctor K, Nails, Kid, or The Franchise. Instead, we referred to him by his given name only: Cleon

Cleon Joseph Jones was born August 4, 1942 in Mobile, AL, the same birthplace as Hank Aaron. He’d wear number 21, the same as Roberto Clemente. His first Major League game was playing center field in the Polo Grounds, the same position patrolled by Willie Mays. And although Cleon was nowhere near the player these Hall of Famers were, it was okay. He was our legend.

Numerous players throughout history have been seemingly predestined for a career in the majors, be it the ability to throw a ball at 100 MPH with pinpoint accuracy, blinding speed or remarkable hand-eye coordination. Cleon was not one of them.

Whereas some burst on the scene, Cleon yo-yoed for several years. Wearing number 34, he made his major league debut on September 14, 1963. Manager Casey Stengel put the 21 year-old in as a defensive replacement for Duke Carmel. In what would be one of the final games ever played at the Polo Grounds, Cleon played CF. And like Moonlight Graham’s one inning, they never hit the ball anywhere near him. .

Cleon had 15 AB’s that September, getting just two hits for a forgettable .133 BA.

He spent all of the 1964 season with the AAA Buffalo Bisons. The next year, he made the team out of spring training. However, after one month and a meager .156 BA, he was once again demoted to Buffalo. Cleon was a late-season call-up and on September 22, 1965, in a 6-2 loss to Pittsburgh, he hit his first HR, a solo blast off of Bob Friend. Despite the dinger, however, he batted just .149, 11-for-74. The Mets finished in 10^th place, 50-112, 47 GB.

In 1966, Cleon was named the Mets everyday starting center fielder. Not because of a overwhelmingly solid performance, but largely due to the fact the Mets had little else. In his first full season, Cleon improved. .275-8-57 and 16 steals. His performance earned him fourth place in Rookie of the Year voting.

There was optimism coming into 1967. For the first time, the Mets had NOT lost 100 games the previous season and two rookie pitchers, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman, showed lots of potential. However, Cleon backpedaled. His BA dipped to a disappointing .247 and he ended up in a CF platoon with Larry Stahl. The team as a whole also backtracked, once again losing over 100 times that year. Six seasons, five of which saw more than 100 losses. Would things ever improve?

In 1968, Cleon was shifted to LF to make room for a newly acquired CFer. Tommie Agee had been AL Rookie of the Year in 1966 and was a childhood friend of Cleon. Management also brought in a new manager, much loved former Brooklyn Dodger Gil Hodges. Despite Hodges, Agee and defending NL ROY Tom Seaver, Cleon’s struggles returned. Six weeks into the season he was hitting just .205 and found himself in a platoon again, this time with Art Shamsky.

Then it happened. Something clicked.

On May 18, Cleon went 3-for-4 with a home run, two RBI’s and a pair of runs scored. He started to hit. And there was no stopping him. On July 16^th against the Phillies at Connie Mack Stadium, number 21 went 4-for-6 with 3 RBI’s, 1 RS and played all 3 OF positions. He ended the season batting .297, fourth best in the NL. Next up: 1969. And our left fielder was in the center of it all.

Although he notoriously started slow and was always a streaky hitter, Cleon was 26 and coming into his prime. He kicked butt from Opening Day and never looked back. By the All-Star Break he was batting .341 with 10 HR’s and 56 RBI’s, good enough to earn a starting spot in the Mid-Summer Classic along with the likes of Aaron, Johnny Bench, Willie McCovey and future teammate Felix Millan. Cleon went 2-for-4 with two runs scored against the best the American League had.

By that summer Mets fans were beginning to think the unthinkable. The team that had lost 737 games in seven seasons actually had a good chance to finish .500. However, Gil Hodges, a man who knew a lot about winning, wanted more. In late July the Mets were 55-41 and in second place, just five games behind the powerhouse Cubs. Despite the fact Chicago was laden with future Hall of Famers Billy Williams, Ron Santo and Fergie Jenkins, Hodges kept the Cubs right in the Mets’ crosshairs.

July 30^th in Houston was the turning point in the season. And yes, Cleon was again in the center of it. The Mets got trounced in the first game of a doubleheader, 16-3. The Astros continued the embarrassment in the nightcap, jumping all over Gary Gentry for 8 ER in 2 2/3 IP. In the third inning, Cleon failed to hustle after a ball that went for a double.

To Gil Hodges, it didn’t matter that the Mets were in a pennant race for the first time in their history. It didn’t matter that Cleon Jones was an All-Star. It didn’t matter that he was our best hitter. The Mets skipper would not sit idly by tolerating lackadaisical play. Hodges, stoic as always, stepped from the dugout, took a lengthy slow walk to left field and conferred with his star hitter. After a few words, Hodges turned and walked off the field. Cleon, like a chastised little boy, shadowed Hodges into the dugout.

Years later, Jones claimed he advised Hodges the turf was wet. Hodges replied there must be something wrong with his ankle and pulled him from the game. “Gil was my favorite manager I ever played for,” Cleon clarified years later. “He’d never embarrass a player that way.” We may never know the true content of the conversation. However, the implication was undeniable. This was Gil Hodges’ team. You either play hard or you don’t play. The Mets lost the nightcap, 11-5. They wouldn’t lose too many more.

Hodges’ club played .780, winning 39 of the last 50 games and capturing the division by 8 games. Cleon ended up hitting 340, third behind Pete Rose and Roberto Clemente.

In the first ever NLCS, the Mets swept the Braves. Cleon hit 429.

In the World Series few gave the Mets any chance of defeating the mighty Baltimore Orioles. And when Don Buford opened the Fall Classic with a HR off 25-game winner Tom Seaver, it appeared we were out of Miracles.

The Mets tied the series when Jerry Koosman outdueled Dave McNally 2-1. Back in New York for game three, the Mets drew first blood. Tommie Agee opened the game with a HR. He also made not one but two of the greatest catches in history. Gary Gentry outpitched future Hall of Famer Jim Palmer for a 5-0 Mets win. In game 4, Seaver returned to form. After struggling in the opener, Tom Terrific threw 10 innings, the Mets prevailed 2-1 and were now one win away from a championship.

The Orioles, however, showed why they won 109 games. Needing a win to return the series to Baltimore, they scored early off Koosman and took a 3-0 lead. In the top of the 6^th, Kooz delivered an inside pitch. Frank Robinson claimed the pitch hit him. Home plate umpire Lou DiMuro disagreed. Replays clearly showed DiMuro blew the call.

Lightning struck again in the bottom of that same inning. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it. McNally threw a pitch low. Cleon danced out of the way, the ball ricocheted into the Mets dugout. Cleon, like Robinson, claimed the ball hit him. DiMuro claimed it did not. Gil Hodges ever-so-slowly walked onto the field and presented a ball with shoe polish to the umpire. DiMuro changed the call and awarded Cleon First Base. Seconds later, Donn Clendenon deposited McNally’s offering beyond the LF auxiliary scoreboard to cut the lead to 3-2. And one hour after that, Cleon caught that fly ball and dropped to one knee.

In the late 60’s/early 70’s, pitching dominated the game, especially in the NL. Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry, Don Sutton and Phil Niekro, all future inductees in Cooperstown, quieted NL bats. But don’t tell that to Cleon. From 68-71 Cleon averaged 308.

The 1973 NL East was a dogfight of mediocrity. On August 30^th, the Mets were in last place, but just 6 ½ back with 30 games remaining. Just like 1969, the Mets got hot at the right time. By September 17^th, the Mets inched up to 4^th, were just 3 ½ GB of Pittsburgh—with the Mets and Pirates playing a rare 5-game series–2 in Pittsburgh, 3 in New York. The two contests at Three Rivers were split and the series moved to Shea for three crucial games.

The Mets captured the opener, 7-3, and for only the second time in his career, Cleon went deep twice in one game. The lead was trimmed to a game a half. The following day, September 20^th, one of the strangest yet most memorable play in team history occurred. And once again, Cleon was in the center of it.

Jerry Koosman faced off against Jim Rooker. A Mets victory would bring us to within a half, a loss would shove us 2 ½ back with just 9 games remaining. It was a back-and-forth contest. Pittsburgh took a 1-0 lead in the 4^th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 6^th. Pittsburgh took a 2-1 lead in the top of the 7^th. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 8^th. Pittsburgh scored 1 in the top of the 9^th to go up 3-2. The Mets tied it in the bottom of the 9^th.

In the top of the 13^th, Richie Zisk singled with one out. Pinch Hitter Dave Augustine came up and sent the Ray Sadecki pitch into the night. Cleon turned and ran…and ran…and ran some more. The ball did not go over. Nor did it bounce off the wall. It bounced on top of the wall. Cleon played the carom perfectly, pivoted and fired to relay man Wayne Garrett who turned and threw a bullet to catcher Ron Hodges who applied the tag to keep the game deadlocked at 3-3. In the bottom half of the inning, the Mets won, First place and the post-season was now within our grasp.

In the 1973 League Championship Series against the Big Red Machine, Cleon batted .300, 6-for-20 with three RBI and three runs scored. In the World Series against Oakland, Cleon hit .286. Of his eight hits, three were for extra bases. He scored five runs in seven games.

In 1975, it would all come crashing down like a Shakespearean tragedy. Spring training saw Cleon suffer a knee injury. He stayed behind when the team went north. On the morning of May 4 in St. Petersburg, FL, Cleon was arrested at 5:00 am. The charge? Indecent exposure.

Police found the 33 year-old sleeping inside a van next to a 21 year-old female who was in possession of marijuana. Cleon insisted he didn’t know the woman, that he met her at a party and was giving her a ride home when the van ran out of gas and he fell asleep. Ultimately, the charges were dropped. “Indecent exposure” was the fact Cleon was barefoot. However, in the eyes of Mets chairman M. Donald Grant this was inexcusable debauchery.

Grant was an autocrat, a tyrant who viewed his players as chattel. He once relinquished his membership to an exclusive Connecticut country club when he learned an inferior individual named Tom Seaver was also a member.

Grant fined Cleon $2000, four times more than any other player had ever been fined. Worse than the financial punishment was the degradation imposed on the Mets superstar. In the glare of the media, with cameras recording every mannerism, spotlights bathing him in a stifling glow and situated behind a bank of microphones angled like missiles about to launch, Cleon was ordered to apologize—to fans, to teammates, to his employer. And to his wife, Angela, who Grant insisted appear at his side.

In October 1969, Cleon caught a fly ball and cemented a miracle. It was the highest point in Mets history. Now, less than six years later, Cleon was again in the center, but this time it was the lowest point in Mets history.

He returned to the team in late May. But was not welcomed back. As if the financial punishment and humiliation were not enough, the order had come down from management that Cleon was to only play sparingly. For two months, the Mets icon was largely relegated to riding the pine. He seldom started and was used meagerly as a pinch-hitter. Such sparse play inhibited his ability to get any timing, extra burdensome knowing he was notoriously streaky. In July Cleon reached his breaking point. Hitting only 240 he got into an altercation with manager Yogi Berra. Grant now had more ammo and fired the fatal bullet. After 13 seasons, he was released outright.

The following year, 1976, he played for the White Sox but Cleon, a slow-starter, was hitting just 200 and promptly released. Cleon Jones, loved and adored by fans in New York, a World Champion, an All-Star, an almost Rookie of the Year and almost batting champion, was unwanted by any club. He was shamed out of Baseball by age 33.

For those of us lucky enough to have seen him play, he was the one that made you sit a little closer to the TV, move up onto the edge of your seat at Shea and chant Lets Go Mets a little louder. He was the one you always made sure to watch when he stepped to the plate, the one guy you wanted to get to in the batting order if you were trailing. He was flashy without being flashy.

It’s been nearly forty years since Cleon wore a Mets uniform. He played in a time when pitching dominated the game. And despite the fact that names like Strawberry, Hernandez, Piazza, Carter, Wright, Ventura and Reyes came after him, Cleon Jones still remains near the top in runs, hits, doubles and RBI’s.

In July 1969, he was involved in a play that turned around the season. In October 1969, he was involved in at-bat that opened the door to the Mets comeback in Game Five. In 1973, he was involved in one of the most famous, most strange plays in history, yet another turning point that led to yet another pennant.

And with that, Metsmerized Online is pleased to announce that Cleon Jones is this year’s inductee into the Metsmerized Hall of Fame.

Jones now joins mike Piazza, Tom Seaver, Keith Hernandez, Jerry Koosman, Dwight Gooden and David Wright in our own hallowed halls honoring the best players the Mets ever had. Congratulations, Cleon!

Feel free to leave your best memories and most heartfelt recollections of Cleon in our comment threads.

The post MMO Hall of Fame: Left Fielder Cleon Jones Was Always At Center Of Things appeared first on Metsmerized.

Thinking back on my college days, I remember my squeaky voiced coach telling us every practice on Friday night, “Don’t worry about winning every game, worry about winning the series.” Back then we played a doubleheader on Saturday and a single game on Sunday. It made sense – winning 2 out of 3 against eight conference teams would generate a 16-8 record. Things aren’t quite the same with a 162 game schedule.

One would think that a team who won three out of four intra-division season series would be playing October baseball. Especially considering that that portion of the schedule accounts for almost 50 percent of the total games played.

On the same note, one would think a team who plays against 20 teams in a season and finished above .500 in season series’ wouldn’t be heading home in the fall. If given a nameless team and the season series record of 10-7-3, what kind of record do you think that would reflect? Obviously this team finished above the .500 mark, right?

Not for the Mets.

NL East (38-38)
Nationals L (4-15)
Braves W (10-9)
Marlins W (11-8)
Phillies W (13-6)

The Mets took three of four of their biggest season series. They beat the Braves, Marlins and the Phillies – and got destroyed by the Nationals. Winning 3 of 4 intra-division series, worth 19 games each, should guarantee an above 500 record. That notion gets wiped away when you barely avoided being swept by the remaining team.

The Mets only beat the Nationals 4 times in 19 contests. Out of our 15 losses to the Nats, 14 of them were by 2 runs or more. Simply put – they owned us.

Who else owned the Mets? Since the amount of games played outside of the division shrinks, we get a smaller snapshot of how the Mets compare to these other teams. They meet NL West and Central teams for two series’ as opposed to a lopsided six. Interleague games take up one series each (an exception being where they played the Yankees and A’s 4 games each). Taking a look at the results, the Mets performed pretty well overall, beating seven teams, losing to six and splitting with three outside of the NL East.

Upon further inspection, besides the Nationals, only three teams beat the Mets by more than one game for the season: the Giants, Dodgers and the Cubs; two playoff teams (which is understandable at this point) and the Cubs. Other than that, the Pirates, Brewers and Angels took the season series against the Mets by a one-game Margin.

Playoff Teams (1-5-1)
Nationals L (4-15)
Cardinals W (4-3)
Pirates L (3-4)
Dodgers L (2-4)
Giants L (1-5)
Athletics S (2-2)
Angels L (1-2)

Overall the Mets went 1-5-1 against playoff teams in 2014. Their only series win against a playoff team was beating the Cardinals who they edged by one game. They fell behind the Pirates and Angels by one game apiece, two behind the Dodgers, were five in the hole against the Giants, and got punished by the Nationals. They fortunately broke even with the athletics.

Their overall record against playoff teams in 2014 was 17-36. Remember, 14 of those losses are directly from our friends in Washington.

Non-Playoff Teams (9-2-2)
Braves W (10-9)
Marlins W (11-8)
Phillies W (13-6)
Reds W (4-3)
D-Backs W (4-2)
Rockies W (4-3)
Mariners W (2-1)
Astros W (2-1)
Rangers W (2-1)
Padres S (3-3)
Yankees S (2-2)
Brewers L (3-4)
Cubs L (2-5)

The Mets went 62-47 against non-playoff teams. Wow, those numbers look great. Now all we need is the Nationals to swap home cities with Arizona and we will be in good shape.

Lets recap looking at game differentials using categories I just made up now:

We Got Destroyed
Nationals -11

We Outright Lost
Giants -5
Cubs -3
Dodgers -2

Narrowly Defeated
Pirates -1
Brewers -1
Angels -1

Even Splits
Yankees 0
Padres 0
Athletics 0

Narrow Wins
Braves +1
Cardinals +1
Reds +1
Rockies +1
Mariners +1
Astros +1
Rangers +1

We Outright Won
Marlins +3
D-Backs +2

We Did Pretty Good
Phillies +7

So what does all this mean? In my opinion, the numbers are telling me the Mets are better than most of the league except for the playoff teams (and the Cubs).

It tells me that the Mets are above the bottom tier, but not just ready to compete. In a way, I’m looking at the Mets as I did the 2012 Royals. Loads of young talent, but just not quite ready yet.

The numbers tell us we really need to solve the Nationals if we are ever to compete for that division title. (Or hope for that D’Back switch I mentioned).

Overall, I like looking at the 2014 Season from a series point of view. This isn’t football where a championship is decided in one game. Of all the numbers discussed the one that makes me happiest is taking 4 of 7 from the Cardinals. The one that disgusts me the most is the 2 of 7 from the lowly Cubbies.

In a very positive light, the Mets did well against most of the teams they faced this year. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it – and carrying it into the 2015 season.

Lets Go Mets.

The post Mets By The Numbers: A Season Series Breakdown appeared first on Metsmerized.

The gaping hole at shortstop – both offensively and defensively – remains an undeniable structural flaw the front office has failed to address so far. Maybe Wilmer Flores can provide some help here going forward – but he actually has to play. Travis d’Arnaud has endured growing pains and is currently out with a concussion anyway. Only Daniel Murphy, Juan Lagares and – if you´re setting your expectations really low – maybe Lucas Duda and Eric Young Jr. as well have performed at or slightly above expectations. In that regard, it´s quite surprising that the Mets actually rank 7th in the NL with 177 runs scored through their first 44 games – and average of 4.02 runs per game.

Yes, the underlying stats (.650 OPS for example) would suggest some regression going forward. But at the same time you´d expect better performances from Wright, Granderson and hopefully the SS and C positions to balance things out. Thus keeping up this 4-run per game ratio doesn´t seem like an outlandishly optimistic expectation. The NL average for runs scored is right at 4.00 for 2014 so far. So, just going with the most important offensive metric RS, the Mets have been average so far and should remain average going forward. But an average offense certainly won´t carry a team into playoff contention itself. Especially not an inconsistently average offense.

Sandy Alderson – for years – has been stating that he expects to build his team around pitching and that pitching will be the main cog in the “machine” of future Mets contenders. And while we’ve witnessed generally good performances from Dillon Gee and Jon Niese, and flashes of upside from various young pitchers, the fact of the matter is that ever since Alderson has taken over, the Mets have sported a BELOW average pitching staff in the NL.

As of now, their 191 runs allowed – which really is the most important pitching stat there is – ranks 11th “best” in the NL. Only Colorado & Arizona who pitch in very difficult environments and the regressing Pirates have performed worse while the LA Dodgers have played two more games and allowed 8 more runs.

The NL average for runs allowed is 4.04 (the difference between offense & pitching is a result of interleague play). The Mets staff has allowed an average of 4.34 runs per game and thus at a well below average level. This corresponds with an NL average ERA of 3.64 vs. the Mets ERA of 3.95 after we eliminate unearned runs. The difference remains almost identical.

So average offense combined with below average pitching makes for a sub .500 record. In spite of featuring studs like RA Dickey and Matt Harvey, the Mets have posted below average ERAs during all three seasons under Sandy Alderson, 4.19 in 2011 (vs. 3.81 for the NL), 3.95 in 2012 (vs. 4.09 for the NL) and 3.77 in 2013 (vs. 3.74 for the NL) and now seem on their way to a 4th year of below average performance. The neutral to possibly pitcher friendly conditions of Citi Field are not even factored in. So in reality, in spite of slightly advantageous circumstances, the Mets pitchers have not been able to reach “average” performance levels, let alone being assets.

Finally, the wave of promising young arms is here. Other than the rehabbing Matt Harvey and young Noah Syndergaard, the fivesome of Zack Wheeler, Rafael Montero, Jacob deGrom, Jeurys Familia and Jenrry Mejia has finally arrived and is looking to establish themselves as legit major league arms – in whatever roles they may ultimately end up with. Usually, development of young arms comes at the price of some initial growing pains. And they clearly show. These five arms, all ages 25 or younger have combined to post these numbers so far:

6-9, 4.36 ERA, 128.0 IP, 128 H, 62 ER, 13 HR, 65 BB, 117 K

The rest and mostly more “established” veteran group of pitchers beyond age 25 have combined for a stat line of:

14-15, 3.75 ERA, 275.2 IP, 269 H, 115 ER, 32 HR, 91 BB, 227 K

So, while the “veteran” Mets pitching has been pretty close to average, the young arms have – collectively – performed well below that level.

As the young pitching will go moving forward – and in whatever roles that may be – so will the Mets go.

These five, plus going forward Matt Harvey and Noah Syndergaard, figure to make up the back-bone of future Mets staffs and will determine whether it’s above average, average or below average. And considering the limited financial room, it better work out.

Hopefully, these arms won´t be paying their dues for too long, but iron out the kinks sooner than later. The upside and ability is there and waiting to really take off. Even more so for 2015. And hopefully management realizes which players need to play in order to have the best shot at succeeding. Not only in 2014 but going forward. And maybe one of these years, Sandy Alderson will be able to turn one of the veteran arms or other assets into a real major league caliber shortstop to help his young arms feel comfortable to throw strikes, manage pitch counts and induce contact.

Lets Go Mets.

The post It’s The Pitching, Stupid… appeared first on Metsmerized.

While many may overreact to the team’s first loss and are focusing on another classic bullpen collapse, Eric Young striking out four times while batting leadoff, and Curtis Granderson‘s 0-for-5 Mets debut, we did have two positive developments worth mentioning.

“It was not a great day,” said a dejected David Wright after the game. But the captain had a huge day with two sharp plays in the field, and a 3-for-5 showing at the plate that included two singles and a two-run home run. Wright looks primed for another big season for the Mets in 2014 and he showed up ready to play.

Not even expected to play until Chris Young (sore quad) and Daniel Murphy (new baby boy) were scratched from the lineup an hour before game time, Juan Lagares gave the fans another show-stopping performance. This time however, it was at the plate.

The Mets’ defensive stalwart went 2-for-4, with a walk, a home run, and three runs scored in his season debut. Will that be enough to earn another start on Wednesday? Who knows, but for now enjoy the fact that all he’s done is hit in Winter Ball and Spring Training and the 25-year old could have a breakthrough season offensively if given the chance.

If the Mets are going to make some noise in the NL East this season, they’ll need strong offensive efforts from David Wright, Daniel Murphy and Curtis Granderson to be sure. But if at least one of Juan Lagares and Travis d’Arnaud can ramp up their offensive game this year, it would certainly make scoring runs for this team a lot easier than it was last season.

In Wright and Lagares, I believe we’re looking at two players who will lead this team in WAR this season if they both stay healthy and play 155 games each.

Yesterday, was a good start. Lets Go Mets…

The post Wright and Lagares Were Two Bright Spots In An Otherwise Dim Afternoon appeared first on Metsmerized.