Mets Guy in Michigan

Hostess baseball cards in 1976 fit in with good times, bicentennial

2012-01-14T17:35:00.005-05:00

The Hostess sets printed on the bottoms of snack boxes between 1975 and 1979 looked pretty similar, with the white borders and simple listing of a player's name, team and position.

Except, of course, for the 1976 issue.

The cards have bold red, white and blue bars across the bottom – making sure they'd blend in perfectly with everything else during that magical bicentennial year.

The patriotism that flowed in the wake of the 2001 terrorism attacks is the only other time I remember seeing so much red, white and blue. That was for healing. But in 1976, it was for celebrating.

It was a good time, even for Mets fans. Slipped in between Watergate and the Carter malaise, people were upbeat, thinking boldly.

Hawthorn elementary school did the unthinkable, conducting a massive carnival to raise enough money to send the entire fifth and sixth grades to Philadelphia for a day, a spot that was easily considered Bicentennial Central.

This was an adventure of the highest order – the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and Ben Franklin's privy, which was cooler when we learned what it was. Remember, we were 12.

Nothing was missed. Even our school photos that year had a Spirit of '76 flag in the background.

The Mets did not suck. The team finished in third place, but with 86 wins, which was the franchise's second-highest total for a long time.

Dave Kingman bashed 37 home runs, steady Eddie Kranepool hit .292, Jerry Koosman had his big 21-win season and Jon Matlack had 17 wins.

Kingman started in the All-Star Game, played in Philadelphia, of course. The National League won, also of course.

As for the Hostess set, I count seven Mets among the 150 cards: Kingman, Seaver, Bud Harrelson, Jerry Grote, Matlack, Felix Millan, and Mike Vail, who is a short-print.

Vail's presence is notable, as he was the rookie whose brief success in 1975 led to Rusty Staub's unfortunate exodus to Detroit.

I only recently acquired the Seaver,and the photo looks like it was used on some Topps leader cards. I also have the Kingman and Grote.

The rest remain elusive.

We had no idea of the horrors that awaited in 1977, but 1976 was a good time for all.

Twinkies were fine, but the cards were better

2012-01-12T21:40:00.009-05:00

I confess there was some sadness when I learned this week that Hostess was filing for bankruptcy.

It's not a love for Twinkies, you understand. I haven't enjoyed one in years.

But from 1975 to 1979, I'd rush to the Twinkies section of Dan's Supreme and Pathmark to turn over box after box, scanning the bottom for elusive Mets. There were cards issued in 1993, too, but that was different. We'll get to that.

But during the Topps baseball card monopoly, the company issued one set of cards. That's different from today, when the company also seems to have a monopoly but issues many, many sets.

But back in the 1970s, the only other cards out there were linked to the occasional food items, printed on the bottom of the box.

It wasn't easy to find the Mets. It was an epic search.

Consider that there 150 cards in the sets. These were some of the Mets “quiet years,” so there were not many of our players in the sets. There were three cards to a box. It's not like there were unlimited of Twinkies boxes.

On a great day, Mom needed something on the store when the shelves were stocked, and I could overturn the entire display searching for Tom Seaver, who was always the priority, or other Mets.

There were some difficult choices. Buying multiple boxes was not an option. And the stock was picked through pretty quickly given all the Mets fans in Massapequa Park.

On the bright side, I could make purchases confidently since the cards were plainly visible on the box bottoms. I didn't have to buy a box merely hoping that Bud Harrelson was nestled under a “golden sponge cake with creamy frosting inside.”

Let's look at each year's cards, starting with the 1975 set. The design in as plain as can be, which stood in sharp contrast to that year's wildly colored Topps issue.

The Seaver card is, of course, spectacular, even with the tape marks. Cut me some slack, I was 11.

I also rounded up a Harrelson and a John Milner. Tom and Buddy were snapped in spring training, and Milner has the beautiful Shea batter's eye in the background.

The Staub card was acquired later. Two years ago it was the subject of some magnificent sleuthing by my friends in the Crane Pool Forum.

I wondered if this was just the worst case of airbrushing ever. Topps back in the day would paint uniforms on traded players. And sometimes, well, let's just say no one was fooled.

There was a long-suspected photo connection between Hostess and Topps.

Note that the Expos logo is still clearly visable on Rusty’s chest. Topps often would leave collar trim in plain view, but never an entire team logo.

Then it appears an artist started adding Mets pinstripes on Rusty’s unstriped Expos jersey, then got distracted and stopped.

And keep in mind, this card is from 1975. Rusty was traded to the Mets at the start of the 1972 season.

Crane Pool Forum poster batmgadanleadoff offered a theory that maked great sense.

Rusty, it is known, had some kind of beef with Topps, because his cards do not appear in the 1972 and 1973 sets. His first Mets card is in the 1974 issue.

His guess is that the screwup with the Expos "elb" logo and pinstriping was not an artist's oversight, but that the photo was supposed to be cropped higher up, at around Staub's neck and through the shoulder line.

“I've seen several proofs of old Topps cards where the cap or helmet was airbrushed to reflect the player's brand new team,” he wrote. “In those proofs, the jersey top (former team) was left unaltered. The final card was cropped above the jersey.”

That makes sense to me. And I was convinced when the fine people behind the Ultimate Mets Database created this mock-up of what an air-brushed 1972 Topps Staub card might have looked like.

There are no such horror with the 1976 set, which we'll tackle next.

Mets ornament of the day: Dropping a big ball in hopes of a better year

2011-12-30T21:02:00.001-05:00

I'm not a big New Year's Eve person. But I'm eagerly celebrating the end of 2011.

This has not been a good year. At the risk of tempting fate, I'm very happy to be throwing out the 2011 calendar in hopes that 2012 won't be as bad.

I'm not saying that we are not blessed as a whole, or that there have not been some good times during the past 12 months.

Manny Acosta, Jason Bay and Carlos Beltran sure provided a highlight. I learned a lot about marching bands. And I was able to visit some very interesting places for work, like New Orleans.

But we also suffered some tremendous losses, not even counting Jose Reyes.

I'm optimistic by nature, so there will be genuine celebrating as the giant ball drops in Times Square. I think we will do better in 2012.

And speaking of giant balls, I love this Shea Stadium ornament. While I've seen other ornaments depicting miniature versions of the ballparks, I've never seen this particular design for other teams.

Shea was a happy place for me, a magical place even during the dark times. The horrors of the late 1970s gave way to the glories of Tom's return, Doc and Darryl's emergence, Keith and Gary's arrival and the thrills of 1986.

The years with Jeff Torborg and Dallas Green at the helm melted into Bobby Valentine guiding Mike Piazza and grand slam singles and Subway Series.

Even the short-lived Howe era blossomed with David Wright and Reyes and Pedro and Beltran and a division title.

We work through the setbacks because we know that with hard work and a little luck, all will be good again. The challenges make the successes all the more enjoyable.

May 2012 bring you peace and happiness. It's time.

Mets ornaments of the day: The best present ever

2011-12-26T22:18:00.006-05:00

I opened some wonderful Christmas gifts this year and in the past, but there is one that stands above all others.

You have to understand that I've always loved baseball uniforms. Stores didn't start selling polyester replicas until I was in high school. They were not as close as to the authentic versions as you see today. Everything was polyester, and all the lettering was screen-printed. No buttons, as all the replicas were pull-overs.

I remember running to one of the department stores in the Sunrise Mall – it might have been Gertz – and finding the Astros rainbow replica.

There were no Mets replicas there, but I was thrilled to get a shirt from any team other than the Yankees. I remember a classmate asking, dismissively, why I was wearing an Astros jersey. But I loved all baseball uniforms, and would even get the matching mesh-backed, adjustable caps to go with them. These were prized possessions.

The mall supply exhausted quickly – I'm surprised the store carried them at all – but my parents knew about Gerry Cosby's store in Westbury. It was an amazing place, even though it seemed to be filled mostly with hockey equipment.

But I remember one shelf with the polyester replicas, which soon was to be the source of birthday and Christmas lists. Before long I had acquired the Giants, Phillies, Dodgers, Expos and Padres and, finally, the Mets.

But I the highlight of a Cosby's visit was seeing the authentic jerseys, stored under glass like the treasures they were. It was inconceivable that a mere mortal could walk around in the exact same jersey worn by Major League Baseball players. It was even a thrill to see them up close, looking at how the lettering was stitched on.

These polyester shirts were an essential part of my wardrobe, along with the three-quarter-sleeved, baseball-styled concert shirts purchased by guys with duffel bags hiding from the police in the Nassau Coliseum parking lot after the shows. Find a photograph of me from that era, and I likely will be wearing one or the other.

But one year, I'm pretty sure it was 1985, I unwrapped a box, lifted off the lid and set my eyes on the most beautiful thing it's ever seen. An authentic, pull-over Mets jersey with the new blue-and-orange racing stripes. The Real Thing.

It was just like the one Tom Seaver wore in his homecoming season, and that Dwight Gooden had worn that season. A magical thing – and perhaps the best Christmas present ever.

Naturally, I have a several Mets jersey ornaments. Though none have the 1980s racing stripes, they bring back memories of that special present.

Mets ornament of the day: Johan Santana and the rare benefit of being a Michigan Mets fan

2011-12-25T23:26:00.003-05:00

There are very few benefits to being a Mets fan in Michigan.

It's nice when the Mets come to Detroit to play the Tigers at Comerica Park because most of the Detroit fans are crowded around the Tigers dugout before and after the game. With less competition, I was able to have nice experiences with Chip Hale and Scott Hairston before the game.

And after the game, Manny Acosta famously looked up, saw my Mets jersey and threw me the ball use to record the final out.

But the other benefit came two years ago when Hallmark issued a Johan Santana ornament.

The designation was disastrous for Santana, of course. He was victimized by the Hallmark curse, as we all knew he would.

But my Michigan location was perfect for snagging leftover Santana ornaments at post-holiday prices. Apparently there wasn't much demand for Johan, because I found several at half-off in the days after Christmas.

But then I hit the jackpot. I was in Kohl's in early January, walked past what was left of the Christmas display and saw ornaments were 90 percent off. And, there were a pile of Santanas, apparently unloved by most other Michiganers but beloved by one in particular.

I cleaned the shelves. Friends and relatives back in the Homeland who were shut out soon found Santanas in their mailboxes. They were a little late for that Christmas, but the next year's trees sure looked better!

Mets ornament of the day: Some of the best aren't found in a store

2011-12-24T23:56:00.003-05:00

Mets ornaments are special for different reasons.

Some are hard to find. Some are linked to specific events. Some pay tribute to individual players.

And others are special because of the person who made them.

The baseball room Christmas tree is, of course, a great source of pride and family discussion. My daughter Caroline usually helps me set it up and decorate it.

Caroline also is pretty creative, crafting all kinds of things out of duct tape, paper and anything else she gets her hands on. She's very good.

Years ago, when she was just starting down the crafting road, she surprised me by making an ornament for the Mets tree. Ice cream sticks in majestic royal blue and magnificent orange, gingerly glued to resemble the coolest Mets snowflake. Or maybe a star.

I'm not entirely sure. But it always will be special, hanging in a place of honor in the front of the tree.

I'm in Illinois celebrating with family this year. Wishing you and your family a very merry Christmas!

Mets ornament of the day: David Wright, who is NOT going to the Phillies

2011-12-23T23:25:00.000-05:00

Some silly Phillies fans are spreading ugly Twitter rumors that the Mets are going to trade David Wright to their goofy little team.

Silly Phillies fans.

The team would have to throw in Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, that bell they broke and a Pat's King of Steaks stand to go alongside the Shake Shack for us to even begin the conversation.

For one thing, nothing good comes of a trade with Philadelphia. Look at the track record. Over the years we've given them Tug McGraw, Roger McDowell and Lenny Dykstra. And what did we get back? Mac Scarce and Juan Samuel. (I'm not counting John Stearns and Del Unser. Work with me.)

And for another, we've already given the Phillies a pair of division titles. Handed them to the team on a platter.

I know it's better to give than to receive. But it's time the Phillies started sending something useful our way.

One thing they're not getting is my sweet David Wright ornament. It's another Forever Collectibles ornament, which means it looks nothing like David Wright. But it's still pretty cool. And it's not headed to Philadelphia.

Mets ornament of the day: Jerry Manuel giving Santa the bunt sign

2011-12-22T21:04:00.002-05:00

Jose Reyes got a lot of gruff for bunting in his last Mets at-bat, believing he wanted to snag one more base hit then scamper off to greener pastures with a batting title added to his resume.

Not true. I think Jose was paying tribute to former manager Jerry Manuel.

Manuel was known for his devotion to bunting. This made his managing pretty predictable.

Man on first with no outs? Jerry was in the dugout frantically giving the bunt sign. Actually, it seemed to get to the point that of there were men on any base, and an out total of less than two, Jerry would call for the bunt.

The toughest part for fans was not no Mets played seemed to be all that good at bunting. You'd think with all that practice, the players could practically lay one down the third base line with their eyes closed.

Actually, I'm almost convinced that Mike Pelfrey really did go up there with his eyes closed. It would explain a lot.

Oh well. Despite managing on autopilot, Jerry seemed like a nice guy and he had cool glasses. Plus, he'll go down in history as the guy who managed the first game at Citi Field.

So this ornament, showing Santa attempting to lay down a bunt, is my reminder of the Manuel era.

Mets ornament of the day: Santa needs to get his treadmill fixed

2011-12-22T01:32:00.002-05:00

This has been a year of challenges, and among the latest is that the family treadmill is broken.

This frustrating because it is not all that old, and it's been a staple of my effort to first lose weight and then to keep it off.

The replacement part costs nearly as much as a new machine, so I dragged my wife and daughter to four sporting goods stores one night this week.

This, after checking all the local YMCAs and other fitness places to see about a short-term membership so I could keep running until the thing is fixed or replaced. I'll save you a trip. They only want year-long commitments. No, they are not moved by broken treadmill sob stories.

If it sounds like the treadmill is an obsession, well, you are correct.

The reason is that I don't ever want to look like the guy in this ornament again – and I don't mean the white beard or ugly shorts.

OK, I was never in the Santa zone, but I was too big and it's a place I don't ever want to go back to.

Now, our dangling and reclining Santa has other issues. What's with the jersey? We all wear our Mets jerseys proudly, even those of us never to be mistaken for a player. But the lettering is way too low. Even the chubbiest of Mets fans would not call attention to the Mo Vaughn-esque belly by stretching the team name over it.

Santa's cap is pretty cool, though.

Mets ornament of the day: Mike Piazza, a really big star

2011-12-20T23:54:00.000-05:00

Mike Piazza wasn't “The Franchise,” because there can be only one. But when we start compling a list of the best players to wear the Mets uniform, he's certainly near the top.

Note that such a list would have to be limited to guys who played for the Mets in their prime. There is absolutely no shame in boasting that Willie Mays, Warren Spahn, Duke Snider, Richie Ashburn and Yogi Berra all looked splendid in their classic Mets uniforms even though their performances were not up to their career highs.

Piazza was the face of the team during its resurgent Valentine era, probably better know as the Piazza era.

And despite his stellar performance, Piazza seemed to be forever dodging beanballs and bat shards from the likes of Roger Clemens.

And, as the biggest star, Piazza gets the biggest ornament on the Mets tree. This thing is huge. Too, huge, actually. It requires a tree branch seeminly as thick as Piazza's biceps to keep it hanging.

I'm pretty sure that this was a mold created for a bobble head and adapted for ornament use.

Alas, even though the designers had all that room to work with, the bobber-ornament has only a slight resemblance to our slugger. Nice detail on the shoes, though.

Mets ornament of the day: Spring training and other Florida memories

2011-12-19T23:25:00.001-05:00

It's getting close to the point that I've seen the Mets play in Florida as many times as I've seen them play in New York.

My parents thoughtfully moved to Florida in the early 1990s, selecting a spot about 40 miles from the Mets spring home in Port St. Lucie. And the Cardinals later moved their shared spring home to Jupiter, right near the parental homestead.

This has led to some pretty sweet adventures, too, like a front row seat to watching Jose Reyes play in a rehab assignment for the St. Lucie Mets in Jupiter.

I've sat in the stands with former No. 1 pick Shawn Abner and several Mets prospects, sat right behind the open dugout at Vero Beach to hear all the team chatter, enjoyed several green-clad St. Patrick's Days.

Spring games had afford me opportunities to talk to Mets owners, broadcasters, managers and players from Hall of Famers to guys hoping to make the team – and some of their parents, too.

Some of the Florida adventures extend beyond spring training. I've seen the Mets and Marlins play in Miami several times, including celebrating one Opening Day.

The sunshine state being the host for so many Mets memories that I hang this cool sand dollar ornament near the top of the baseball room tree each year.

There's an art festival that runs along Ocean Blvd., that's fun because there is usually some pretty strange-looking art, some pretty strange-looking people and arepas, which are a glorious Florida treat involving corn bread and cheese.

One year I stumbled across a table with these cool handmade ornaments, buying one with the proud Mets logo and one with the then-new Marlins logo.

They're big, and a little goofy. But a sand dollar never looked so good, and it's a reminder of all the fun times spent with the Mets in Florida.

Mets ornament of the day: 1988, so close

2011-12-18T23:30:00.003-05:00

Well, I fell just short of obtaining something recently. I was so certain, so close. It had to happen.

Except that it didn't.

I remember feeling this way exactly once before.

I was so sure the Mets were going to the 1988 World Series, and that they'd win it. It was in the bag.

The 1986 championship season was followed by a year devastated by injuries. But the 1988 Mets were incredible. Dominating. The team finished 100-62, a full 15 games ahead of the second-place Pirates.

David Cone went an insane 20 and 3 with a 2.22 ERA. Darryl Strawberry should have won the MVP, with 39 homers and 101 RBI.

And the team headed off to the playoffs to play the Los Angeles Dodgers, a team they'd defeated in all but one game. The playoffs were a formality.

Except that Bob Ojeda had an accident with a hedge clipper, future Met Orel Hershiser was playing out of his mind and Mike Scioscia earned “Bleeping” as a middle name. And like that, it was gone.

I keep the ornament on the tree as a reminder that a division championship is something to celebrate. And, it's a reminder to never, ever think that anything is a sure thing. As a very, very wise former Mets player, coach and manager once said, “It's not over 'til it's over.”

Mets ornament of the day: Mets nutcracker not needed for peanuts

2011-12-16T23:50:00.000-05:00

I've been spending a great deal of time in Lansing, Mich., lately covering activity in and around the state Capitol.

You know the expression about laws and sausage-making. Well, I like to see the process. I've enjoyed my new assignment.

One of the best parts of downtown Lansing is a magical place called The Peanut Store, located on Washington Square a block from the Capitol.

The aroma wafts throughout the block. Inside, it's like a step back in time. There are Mr. Peanut souvenirs on the wall that I think have been for sale for decades.

And right near the register is a drawer overing a tumbler keeping unsalted peanuts warm. I usually walk out with a massive, $5 bag of warm peanuts to bring back to the bureau or all the way back to colleagues in Grand Rapids.

The bag gets lighter along the way, I must confess. But I get to be a hero.
The shop sells other kinds of nuts, too. But I'm not going into a place called The Peanut Store to buy cashews or some candy.

I don't need a nutcracker to open peanuts, but the Mets nutcracker reminds me of the store – but without the awesome aroma.

Mets ornament of the day: There was no question about Johan Santana in 2008

2011-12-14T19:24:00.003-05:00

Lots of talk about Johan Santana being a “question mark” for the upcoming season. I'm not sure what kind of punctuation mark he'd get for 2011, considering he missed the entire season.

Well, he'll always be in mid-season form on the Christmas tree.

I have a several Santanas on the tree, and one is more interesting than the others. The face could be anyone from Jay Hook to Pat Misch, as Forever Collectibles rarely seems to invest the effort in making the subject of the ornament actually look like the person it is depicting.

But check out one of the other details on the figure: The 2008 Shea Stadium final season patch.

That's pretty cool. The only time I've seen Santana pitch for the Mets was during that farewell season. Cousin Tim and my parents had the idea to make an epic journey to Shea for one last game, and we watched one of the Subway Series games.

More on that in later posts. But I'll always remember watching Santana that day.

Mets ornament of the day: David Wright, Pedro and a soon-to-be-jinxed Santa

2011-12-13T23:16:00.003-05:00

The Mets had their annual Christmas party today. This has known to be a jinx to the player wearing the Santa suit, and know to be a very good day when Anna Benson showed up in her now infamous elf costume.

So today we have a Forever Collectibles version of what the day is like, with Mets players David Wright and Pedro Martinez posing with Santa.

Is this a since-departed teammate posing as Santa, or the read deal? We just don't know. He does seem to friendly enough with both players.

This St. Nick is dressed for the occasion, ditching his traditional red coat for his black Mets alternative jersey. And David is ready for action, wearing his glove.

This was the first of a series of “Celebration” ornaments from Forever, though the rest ditched Santa in favor of a third player. Or given the history of bad things happening to Mets who played the role at the party, perhaps everyone just thought it was safer to leave the costume behind.

Mets ornament of the day: Shea Stadium, a little askew

2011-12-12T22:42:00.002-05:00

No Mets tree would be complete without at least one tribute to Shea Stadium.

Like the beloved ballpark, my ornament is a little off. The Mets logo that is supposed to help the ornament hang straight.

This one is a little askew, but so was Shea. That's the way I'm rationalized this one, which wasn't quite pictured this way in the photo on eBay. Fighting with eBay vendors on a fairly inexpensive item just isn't worth the time and effort.

But there is much to like about this ornament, especially considering the size. The level of detail is fairly impressive. Note the neon players on the walls, the ticket booths along the entrances and the outfield scoreboard and video boards. Not too bad.

I picture this dangling from a branch and I can just imagine Swoboda stretched out in right, Buddy and Pete mixing it up, Ray Knight stomping on home as the the little roller famously gets by Buckner.

Look closely, and you see Robin Ventura mobbed before he can get to second base, Mike Piazza tugging at the heart with his healing blast and Tom returning home, bowing on the mound to thank the fans.

Mets ornament of the day: Citi Field

2011-12-11T15:33:00.003-05:00

I love baseball stadiums.

Lets' face it, with very few exceptions, a hockey rink is a hockey rink, and I think it's safe to say the same goes for the other lesser sports.

But a baseball stadium is different. It can have an impact on the game itself, with green monsters, short porches, Tal's Hills, bricks and ivy and deafening Metrodomes.

The ballpark can be a point of pride, like Camden Yards and Dodger Stadium, taking on legendary status. Or they can evoke shame, like the Tropicana Dome in St. Petersburg.

I think Mets fans were hoping for pride when Citi Field opened in 2009, and were disappointed that the team lavished so much attention on Jackie Robinson and so little on the team's own former stars. It was like going to Grandma's house and seeing photos of the neighbor kids on the mantle.

The team seems to have made up for it with an amazing Hall of Fame and other touches, none of which are easily viewed in this ornament. It's got some other issues, too. Unlike other stadium ornaments that have a team logo on which to extend a hook, this one has the loop in the middle of the field, and it just doesn't hang well – hence the photograph on the table.

But the park is still new, and I'm sure a better ornament will arrive soon.

Mets ornament of the day: Pedro Martinez, quirky and fun

2011-12-10T10:13:00.002-05:00

I read Thursday that Pedro Martinez has retired.

I confess that this surprised me, because I thought Pedro Martinez has already retired. I mistakenly came to this conclusion because Pedro hasn't pitched since he lost two games against the vile team that must not be named in the 2009 World Series for another team that must not be named.

To be honest, I had blotted that entire World Series from my memory. I pretend it was canceled, just like the 1994 Series, but for a better reason.

I prefer to remember Pedro from his days as a Met, making each start an event even when it was apparent towards the end that his physical gifts were fleeting. If only he'd stayed healthy in 2006. I might have been able to add a World Champions ornament to the tree.

But I do have an unusual Pedro Martinez ornament. I found it online, and I've never found anything like it.

Detail issues abound, like the road wordmark on a white home uniform. But the manufacturer managed to work in Pedro's necklace.

Not complaining, mind you. It's quirky and fun, just like Pedro.

Mets ornament of the day: Reminder of a simpler time

2011-12-09T09:58:00.002-05:00

Not every Mets ornament has to be a fancy, mass-produced affair.

We lived in Connecticut for three years, which was nice because it's close enough to the homeland that we could still go to Mets games and find Mets items in stores mixed in with the Red Sox gear and stuff for the other team that will not be mentioned during the nice holiday season.

Our Christmas tree was fairly bare in those days, as we were slowly acquiring ornaments along with can openers and other essential items. My wife made several felt ornaments that I still love because they remind me of those years when we were just starting out.

We liked to visit weekend art shows in Milford, which is a very nice place on Connecticut's south shore not too far from Bridgeport, which is, well, also a place on the south shore.

I found this ornament at one of the art shows. Obviously homemade. But that's part of the charm. And it brings me right back to a happy, simpler time.

Mets ornament of the day: Jose Reyes in happier times

2011-12-06T23:45:00.002-05:00

It's going to be a little crowded on the back of the tree in the baseball room, because Jose was a popular ornament subject.

In going through the loss of Reyes to the Marlins – a rival I confess to not openly hating – I quickly moved through the denial, anger and bargaining stages and went straight to depression.

But we can't have a blue Christmas. Oh, maybe a blue and orange Christmas. The second of the Forever Collectibles Reyes ornaments takes us to a happier place, where Jose is frolicking at Shea with hamstrings unstrained and that platinum smile lightening up a Flushing night.

On the other hand, this ornament looks even less like Reyes than the black jersey version. We can pretend that this one is actually Mike Cameron, Darryl Hamilton, Bruce Boisclair or any of the other 800-plus players to wear a Mets uniform.

Tomorrow we'll be able to move along to the acceptance stage and write about a less-traumatic ornament.

Mets ornament of the day: Jose Reyes, headed to the back of the tree

2011-12-05T21:42:00.003-05:00

Well, guess who is going to be hanging in the back of the tree this year.

Forever Collectibles had several years making larger ornaments of individual players, none of which drew even a passing resemblance of the player intended to be depicted.

I suspect this is like that first year of Starting Lineup figures, where the company had about five poses and five heads – “Slap the white guy with mustache head on the batting figure and call it 'Howard Johnson.'”

I'm not complaining too much, because Forever sometimes got some details right, like uniform patches.

The company made several Jose Reyes ornaments, and I chose this one one for today. The soon-to-be-dispatched black jersey fits the mood and is symbolic of the mourning period we're all entering now that Jose is Miami bound.

Mets ornament of the day: The elusive Mr. Met

2011-12-04T21:06:00.002-05:00

It started innocently, with a Mets ornament or two mixed in with our others on the Christmas tree.

But then I started expanding, tracing Tom Seaver's career in ornaments and adding Hallmark decorations featuring baseball players.

Several years later, when we had our first house, my wife surprised me with an artificial tree for the baseball room – a special tree to fill be with baseball ornaments.

Naturally, I have rules. Space on the baseball tree is limited, so each ornament has to be special. Ordinary glass balls with a team logo don't cut it. I like ornament that can take us to a time or place, tied to a memory.

So we'll come out of November hibernation and put the post card tour on hold to spend the December taking a tour of the tree, hopefully one a day through the end of the month.

Most of these are store-bought, found here and there. But some of the favorites were discovered at art shows and craft fairs – or created by my kids.

So let's start with Mr. Met, on of several created by Forever Collectibles, which produces work of varying quality.

I like this one. And I have to confess that I've never met Mr. Met. The best mascot ever just wasn't around in the 1970s and 1980s when I was living in New York and Connecticut and getting to games regularly.

I had hoped for an encounter when visiting Shea in 2008's farewell season and the following year at Citi Field. Alas, we only were able to view Mr. Met from afar.

So, until we can make it back to see the Mets at home, Mr. Met on the tree remains as close as we can get.

Postcard tour: Cleveland, from 'The Mistake' to the Jake

2011-10-09T22:58:00.011-04:00

It doesn't have the retro charm of Camden Yards, the spectacular views of PNC Park or the iconic bay blasts of AT&T Park's McCovey Cove.

But Progressive Field in Cleveland is a wonderful place to see a ballgame. Cleveland residents must be pretty proud of it, too, based on the number of postcards I've found when visiting the city.

I've seen a number of games at Progressive, or it's original and better name, Jacobs Field. And one pretty exciting event – the 1997 All-Star Game Home Run Derby, celebrity softball game and workout, all packaged together for one very affordable $25 ticket.

The Mets have done well at Progressive, too. The team took two of three games in 2002, with Al Leiter and Steve Trachsel taking the victories and Shawn Estes getting beat.

Inter-league play brought the Mets to Cleveland again in 2010, with a glorious sweep with Johan Santana, Jon Neise and R.A. Dickey earning the wins.

Andrew and I visited in 2008 for a weekend visit that included lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe, dinner on “The Flats,” a day spent at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame – and even paying respects to President Garfield.

This card is pretty clever with the city name written as if it is part of the lights on the park.

This one is kind of arty – a little too arty for baseball.

I've never found another like this “I was there,” card, with the back leaving a place to write some of the game's details.

This team-issued card is pretty basic, but has all kinds of ballpark facts on the back.

Jacobs Field replaced a storied ballpark, but Cleveland Municipal Stadium was famous not for great games but for its vast size – and tremendous numbers of empty seats in Indians' decades of futility.

Rich, Mark and I made “The Mistake by the Lake” the last stop of our epic 1989 ballpark tour. I wandered off and spent part of the game in the distant outfield with John Adams, a super fan famous for banging a massive drum during Indians rallies.

It was an old park with plenty of charm, like Tiger Stadium – none of which can be found in the one postcard I've been able to find of the ballpark.

Friday Five takes an artistic turn

2011-09-30T19:17:00.001-04:00

I almost didn't get in.

After waiting months for the double-bill of Switchfoot and Anberlin at Calvin College, I walked up to the ticket booth as the student worker was setting things up.

“You've got tickets, right?” I asked. I wasn't worried. Once I attended a concert at Calvin, and it was a gathering of John Reuben and about 50 friends.

“We've got two.”

I smiled.

“No, I'm serious. We have two tickets, and that's only because someone turned them in. Don't move from that spot."

So after purchasing half of the available tickets I enjoyed an awesome concert featuring two of my favorite bands – and met some new friends, too.

Many miles on treadmill and trail have been logged to the sound of Switchfoot's “Hello Hurricane” since it was released in 2009.

Anberlin was a more recent discovery, true to my practice of being about 5 years behind the times musically.

The show was the highlight of an arts-centric Deezo Friday Five.

Switchfoot

Calvin's Hoogeboom Arena was set up with wooden bleachers on the sides and standing room on the floor. I opted for the bleachers near the side because I am too old for the mosh pit.

Lead singer Jon Foreman was interacting with the crowd a lot, leaning over the stage, leaning in to the out-stretched hands. But during “The War Inside” he jumped off the stage and into the crowd and walked along the beachers, then turned and started stepping up – right toward me.

Foreman looked up and extended his hand, then used mine to pull himself up into the row and sang the rest of the song two spaces away. Cool!

Anberlin

Anberlin's sound was pretty muddy until the acoustic songs – including “The Unwinding Cable Car” was a great surprise.

Andrew likes to collect set lists after the show, and we've begged roadies of many groups for the paper, which usually is duct-taped to the stage floor.

But this time I was walking past the sound board and saw the Amberlin set list just sitting there. The guy working behind the board said I could have it. Sweet!

Atomic Tom

It's not easy being the opening act. Usually the best thing people will say is “They didn't suck,” and the biggest applause typically comes after the singer says, “We've got one more song for you.”

But I liked Atomic Tom. Sure, they got points after saying they were from Brooklyn. But their rocking cover of Human League's “Don't You Want Me” was a nice surprise, and the rest of the set was a nice mix of power pop – with the emphasis on power – and straightforward rock.

“Take Me Out” sounded familiar and I liked “The Moment,” the title cut from their CD. I went to meet the band at the merch table after the show, and snagged the last CD they had. Nice guys.

The CD has been steadily playing in the car since the concert, and I found their apparently famous video of “Take Me Out” played and filmed entirely with iPhones on a subway.

“Catching Hell”

I got an email out of the blue last winter from someone who said he was working with a documentary producer and was interested in using two photos he found on the blog.

The post was about Will and I going to see the Mets lose at Wrigley. As will once explained to a Comiskey vendor as I snapped a shot of him preparing my hot dog, “He documents everything.”

And on this particular adventure, we located the seat where infamous Cubs fan Steve Bartman was sitting when he prevented Moises Alou from catching a foul ball in the 2003 playoffs. Or not. It's not really clear whether Bartman actually got a hand on the ball, and the Cubs proceeded to allow 8 runs in the rest of inning, all without Bartman's help.

But this was Chicago and Cub losses are blamed on curses and not incompetence, so Bartman has been forced into exile.

We found the seat, and some goofball was sitting there, preventing others from taking in the view. I documented him.

Then I recreated the Bartman alleged near catch and Will documented that because that, too, is what we do.

The producer wanted to use both of those, and I happily consented.

The documentary aired Tuesday and was called, “Catching Hell,” focusing on the treatment of Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner after the glorious 1986 Mets World Series comeback and Bartman.

And, about 90 minutes into the show, you will see the goofball and me in a montage of fans recreating the moment, which must have been a surprise to the goofball, had he been watching. I get a photo credit, too!

ArtPrize

Grand Rapids is filled with art of all shapes, sizes and quality this week for the third annual ArtPrize competition.

People spend the first two weeks voting thumbs up or down on each pieces, and the ten with the most votes continue into a second round, where the winner gets a nice pile of cash.

As you can imagine, high-brow art people are horrified – horrified – at the kind of stuff that lands in the top 10. It's like when music critics tell us how we should love some artists when we all just want to hear Foreigner.

Confession: I like Foreigner, and I like the stuff that sends the hoity-toity people into a frenzy. This year, artist have figured out the kind of stuff that voters like and have been accused of pandering more than a politician in Iowa a week before the primary.

The arts version of “Hot Blooded” is called “Gerald Ford Goes to ArtPrize,” and kind of looks like a wax museum version of the native son pondering a bronze bust of himself.

The same artist last year created an ultra life-like sculpture of a monk which was praised mightily but did not get a ton of votes. This year's version is in the top 10.

I wanted to vote for it just because A) it is pretty cool, and B) the high brow folks would go ballistic. Alas, with just one vote to cast, there were great negotiations within the family. We voted for “Rusty,” the giant dog made from car scraps and tree stumps.

Maybe a little more "I Want to Know What Love Is" than "Double Vision," but still pretty cool.

Friday Five: Google, Beltran and the Diet 'iCoke' machine make for a San Francisco treat

2011-09-25T00:13:00.006-04:00

This week's Deezo Friday Five recalls some of the things I learned while attending an education writers conference in the Bay Area this week.

For instance, I had no idea that there are palm trees in San Fran. After seeing all those Giants fans in parkas at Candlestick Park all those years, I assumed it was a colder place. But here are some more interesting things.

1)Googleplex

We all signed non-disclosure statements so we couldn't reveal top-secret things we might have seen during our time at the sprawling Google headquarters in Mountain View. I'm pretty sure that it involved world domination.

But we did get a tour of some of the wild and crazy things that go on there.

Google employees eat well. There are about 20 cafes on the campus, and employees eat for free. Good stuff, too. Because employees gain “The Google 15” with all the free food, they exercise by riding brightly colored bicycles all over the place.

There's a T. Rex skeleton named Sam, and he is covered in plastic flamingos. Employees play beach volleyball during the day between meals.

There's a sculpture garden with giant heads of people real and imagined.

I saw one person older than 30 and not a single necktie.

I wonder if the Bingplex is as fun.

2)San Francisco International.

The airport was as close to the city as I got, since our activities were all in the southern parts of the region.

Alas, the airport was nowhere near as drama-packed as the magnificent “San Francisco International” television pilot that became one of our favorite “Mystery Science Theater 3000” episodes.

The movie features Pernell Roberts as a smug airport administration who does his job, his way. A typical day at work involves Tab Hunter and some other bad guys kidnapping David Hartman's wife and eluding security chief Clu Gulager. Meanwhile, newspaper columnist Van Johnson is splitting from his wife, depressing his son who somehow manages to wander into a small plane that accidentally takes off.

As all this is going on, Pete from “McGuyver” is having issues with a made-for-TV hippie.

It's all good fun, and it kept a lot of 1970s minor stars off the streets until “Love Boat” and “Fantasy Island” came calling.

3)Stanford University

One of the good things about changing time zones is that you can get up at 5 a.m. and it feels like you are sleeping in.

I decided to ditch the treadmill and take to the streets for my early morning run, especially after discovering that the Standford University campus was nearby.

With Bay Area resident Bruce Hornsby rocking the iPhone, I explored the campus in the pre-dawn darkness. Seemed like a nice place, especially with some of its famous architecture dramatically lit. The Memorial Church's mural is beautifully lit, as is the tower named after alumni Herbert and Lou Hoover.

Now, I don't know what crazy things they're working on at Stanford, but something was wreaking havoc with my iPhone's GPS. The RunKeeper ap kept announcing distances and mile paces that would have me welcomed at the Olympics next year. Apparently I ran 18 miles in 46 minutes, and was running 2 minute miles at one point.

4)New-fangled Diet Coke machine.

There is a possibility that I drink too much Diet Coke. I know this. But if you ever want to know the location of the Diet Coke vending machine in your building, or any other, I'm your man.

I was roaming around downtown Palo Alto looking for the Giants Dugout store and wanted something small to eat to tide me over. I found a pizza by the slice place, and thought it would to the job.

Turning to fill up my cup, I encountered a crazy new Coke delivery system. It looked like it was part iPad, with a touch screen boasting it could create 106 kinds of soda. I was surprised. There are other kinds of soda?

I tapped the DC logo on the screen, and the graphic switched to all Diet Coke and then the refreshing beverage started flowing freely.

Pretty cool. Oh, and there is a reason the Bay Area is not known for its pizza.

5) Carlos Beltran, Giant

I did find the Giants Dugout store, and obtained this week's Cap of the Week, a black-and-orange, soft-crowned beauty.

There was plenty of World Series gear, though those caps were more expensive. Some Grateful Dead and Brian Wilson stuff, but I had my fill of weirdness after the Googleplex.

I was pleasantly surprised to see t-shirts for our mid-season gift to the team, Carlos Beltran. Nice to see that Beltran is appreciated in his new surroundings, even if he apparently couldn't lead the team to the playoffs.

We shall remember Carlos fondly when we see Zach Wheeler shirts at Citi Field before too long!

Postcard tour: Cincinnati, where Mets win when they absolutely have to

2011-09-12T09:31:00.000-04:00

Riverfront Stadium was a nice enough ballpark in a multi-purpose concrete donut kind of way. But it was a bit of a house of horrors for the Mets over the years.

During the park's existence from 1970 to 2002, the Mets had 77 wins and 100 losses.
But the team won in Cincy when it counted. The team split the first two games of the 1973 playoffs there, which was important. But the Oct. 4, 1999 game was a winner-take-all affair.

The Mets and Reds were tied for the wild card, and the game at Riverfront was the tie-breaker. Al Leiter was on the mound for the Mets, and rose to the occasion, throwing a complete game, 2-hit shutout. Edgardo went nuts, going 3 for 4 with a homer and a double, scoring two runs. The Mets won, 5-0, propelling the team into the postseason for the first time since 1988.

I've had some exciting moments at Riverfront, including my first time in a Mets clubhouse. I was to interview Mickey Weston in 1993, and we spoke at his locker about his return to the major leagues with the team that drafted him originally. I also interviewed pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre, and Doc Gooden came over to chat.

Later I sat in the Mets dugout as the team took the field for batting practice, talking to General Manager Al Harazin, who had a connection to Flint and was very generous with his time. I treasured every moment.

Riverfront also hosted a memorable Baseball Truth Executive Game in its final season, and, of course, gets points for being Tom Seaver's home in exile for five years.

But the Reds' new ballpark hosted one of my most glorious baseball memories.
The BaseballTruth crew returned to Great American Ballpark in 2008 to see the Mets, and I had been dragging my 17-year streak of shame.

The Mets got thumped 7-2 in the July 27 game, as was the custom with me in attendance. I returned the next day, by myself. Sunday, July 28 was an amazing back-and-forth game that headed into extra innings.

Robinson Cancel, our pudgy third-string catcher and pinch-hitter of last resort, lashed a double. He moved to third on a Jose Reyes bunt then scored when the Reds threw away an Argenis Reyes grounder – and he later came around to score an insurance run.

Shaky Mets close Billy Wagner came in to try and finish the game – and struck out the side. I remember cheering, tears, friends calling and trying to snap photos of the first Mets post game celebrated I could witness in person in 17 years.
I've been able to find several postcards of Riverfront over the years, but I haven't had much luck with Great American, coming across only this funky foil card in the team gift shop.

Friday Five: Stan Musial and other heroes

2011-09-09T16:53:00.000-04:00

Remembering heroes

I didn't expect to be so moved by the West Michigan Healing Field. Volunteers filled the Cannonsburg ski area with 3,000 American flags, each with a brief biography of a Sept. 11, 2001 victim. People working in the Pentagon; people at their desk in a World Trade Center office. People heading home or on a vacation. A woman remembered by colleagues for keeping a candy jar on her desk filled. Firefighters and police officers. The heroes of Flight 93. Children. I wanted to read them all.

Katy Perry

Caroline and I were supposed to see Katy Perry on Sunday night, but the singer has a respiratory infection and the concert has been postponed until December. This gives me more time to rewrite some of Katy's lyrics so they are more “Daddy friendly.” For example, Katy, in “Teenage Dream,” sings: “Let's go all the way tonight; no regrets, just love.” I don't think that's an appropriate sentiment. So, when Caroline commands the iPod in the car, I sing the new, Daddy-approved lyrics: “Let's go on a date tonight, no regrets, just lunch.” Much more wholesome. For Katy's biggest hit, I imagine her getting in touch with the outdoors. Instead of “I kissed a girl and I liked it, I hope my boyfriend don't mind it.” No wonder Elmo blushed. I envision Ms. Perry in a park, feeding the other furry forest friends: “I kissed a squirrel and I liked it, I hope Ranger Rick don't mind it.” I think Caroline is hoping there is a special seating section where fathers of 14-year-olds can be herded in together and not publicly embarrass their daughters.

Chatty Famous Chicken

We enjoyed seeing The Famous Chicken at the West Michigan Whitecaps game during Labor Day weekend. Big parts of his act haven't changed in the 20 years since I first watched him, but he's always funny. Caroline, who has worked as Katie L, the Kent District Library mascot, was a little bit concerned that the Chicken violated the first rule of mascoting – he talks!

Flat Stan the Man

Give the St. Louis Cardinals credit for doing cool things. You must have heard of “Flat Stanley,” Dale Hubert's book character who gets flattened and goes on adventures. Teachers across the country have used the book for lessons, assigning children to send their Stanley to friends and family and take photos of him is locales near and far. Caroline's Flat Stanley got to visit off-limits sections of the Kennedy Space Center and military headquarters in Afghanistan, where he posed with – and was signed by – then-Sen. Hillary Clinton. The Cardinals created a Flat Stan Musial, complete with his Presidential Medal of Freedom! People are encouraged to post their photos on the team's web site. Tony is sending me one, and we're going on a tour of Grand Rapids!

Cap of the Week

This week's Cap of the Week is a gift from my nephew Zachary. He pitches for the Deer Park-Mackinaw traveling team in Illinois, and tossed a no-hitter this season. The local minor league team, the Cornbelters, were so impressed that the team signed a ball for him and he was allowed to sit in the dugout. So, my nephew has pitched more no-hitters than the Mets have. The cap also has Uncle Dave's initials, which is cool!

Postcard tour: Comiskey Park, where you have to work for your fun

2011-09-06T22:49:00.008-04:00

Wrigley is always fun, but I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the Southsiders and Comiskey Parks, old and new.

Maybe it’s a second-team-in-the-city kind of thing, and bond between the Mets and Sox.

Look, anybody can embrace Wrigley and its traditions. It’s always going to be cool to go there. But the Sox make you work a little for it.

Even recently , when Will and I attended a game at the park that used to be called New Comiskey, we had to charm our way past the ushers just to escape the upper deck to see some of the cool statues and other things on the lower level.

But we’ve also had some awesome adventures on the South Side. From hanging out with Bobby Valentine at the batting cage to having John McNamara meltdown during an encounter under the stands to Scott Radinsky answering questions only after giving me hard time to Ken Griffey Jr. making sure we weren’t taking unauthorized photos, we’ve had some memorable encounters.
And there are not as many Comiskey postcards out there compared to Wrigley cards. You have to look for them. But like the team and the park, you are rewarded for the effort.

My favorite is the blue-bordered postcard that I found on the epic road trip with Rich that resulted in the meetings with Valentine and McNamara, the former Red Sox manager who was not quite over the 1986 World Series defeat.

Will and I were present for the final two games at that glorious old yard, and watched the construction of New Comiskey across the street. That leads to one of the most unusual cards in the collection, showing two views of the new yard still under construction.

The aerial views of the new park are neat, especially the one showing the famed Chicago skyline off in the distance.

And, finally, I’ve found one and only one postcard with the ballpark’s corporate – and likely temporary – name of U.S. Cellular Field.

Friday Five: Pat Benatar and other music of the universe

2011-09-02T14:36:00.002-04:00

Settling in for a very busy Labor Day weekend that includes the Famous Chicken – and a very special holiday Deezo Friday Five.

Mystery animal cap

My favorite cap this summer came from a store in Traverse City called Cherry Republic. If you do the Michigan-as-a-hand thing, Traverse City is at the tip of our pinky. It's known for magnificent beaches and sunsets, angst-filled newspaper softball tournaments and growing cherries. The Cherry Republic sells cherries in just about every form imaginable, including salsa and peanut butter. Lots of samples. The cap is one of those rare magical caps that just feels perfect. It's made by a company called Attitude 101. But we've had big debates about the animal in the logo. I think it's supposed to be a bear, based on other things I saw in the store. But other people think it looks like a dog, a pig, Big Foot or Lucas Duda. I like that the mystery animal is looking over his shoulder with a bit of an attitude. Very New York for a laid back place like Traverse City. This might kick off a cool cap of the week feature.

Pat Benatar

Pat Benatar says I rock! Pat was in town for a concert and came to the local Barnes & Noble to sign copies of her book, “Between a Heart and a Rock Place.” There about 200 people in line, and about 190 them were guys between the ages of 45 and 55. Pat and I discussed Long Island, and the Lindenhurst native said she was back home recently for a big family barbecue. “The Island's still a good place,” she said. I'm assuming she's a Mets fan because she was nice, though I could not find references to the team in the book.
Words With Friends

My sister got me hooked on the game, and it's one more reason I suffer from separation anxiety when I misplace the iPhone. My winning percentage was only slightly better than that of the 1962 Mets. But now I've discovered the joys of triple word score tiles, I'm a little better, like the 1978 Mets, but without the embarrassment of “Mettle.” Look for me as MetsGuy if you want to play.

Mets blue jerseys

The team wore the blue Los Mets jerseys again this week, and reports are the magnificent tops are returning for special games next year less the Los. Too bad fans haven't been clamoring for uniforms like these for years. Oh, wait.

“The Music of the Universe”

“Chuck” is the latest morning diversion as I put in the daily treadmill mileage, and I'm part of the way through the second season. One episode revolves around an old Missile Command arcade game, and the creator of the game explains it must be played to “the music of the universe.” Chuck, playing under pressure to save the world, realizes that the game creator meant that the game can be conquered when played to the rhythms of “Tom Sawyer.” There's truth to this. The epic was voted the No. 1 song to play games to by the Nintendo Power magazine. Note to the people running the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: Some people give Rush the respect it deserves.

Postcard tour: Wonderful Wrigley

2011-08-31T06:28:00.014-04:00

We're resuming the postcard tour, but not leaving Chicago -- which I swear is just a coincidence, as we're operating alphabetically.

Being a Windy City icon, there are plenty of opportunities to send loved ones an image of the bricks and ivy, though postcard styles certainly have changed over the years.

Given the park's age, I'm sure there are some classic Wrigley linen postcards out there, I just haven't come across them. My collection starts with the epic ballpark road trip Rich and I took in 1988, and the blue-bordered cards we picked up then remain among my favorites.

Note that one of them is from the era before Wrigley had lights.

We did have some neat adventures at the park over the years. In the 1990s I was a leader of the church's high school youth group, and a friend in the congregation through it would be good for the kids to see the Lutheran world headquarters in Chicago. And, of course, we thought the kids should see a game at Wrigley, too. Properly training teenagers to appreciate a good ballpark should be a requirement for such positions.

Adventures continued through our most recent visit. Late in the game, we had a chance to meet Tom Ricketts, the Cubs new owner. He was walking around the upper deck, just meeting fans and posing for photos.

Ricketts seems to be a smart man. I was wearing my Cubs jersey, so he assumed I was a fan. He didn't jump st my suggestion that the Cubs try to acquire Jason Bay from the Mets.

More recent cards seem to be moving away from using classic ballpark photos and relying more on graphics.

While the ballpark isn't the complete focus of this card, the 3-D effect makes it kind of fun.
Next we'll head to the South Side for the strange tale of two ballparks.

Deezo Friday Five returns to wrap up Windy City adventures

2011-08-26T22:11:00.000-04:00

My daughter demanded the return of the Deezo Friday Five after our trip to Chicago, saying we’ve been focusing too much on baseball. It’s been a while, and we had some neat adventures.

The Ledge at Skydeck
The building formerly known as the Sears Tower is now only the eighth-tallest in the world, but still can claim the title of tallest in North America. We went to check out the observation deck’s newest feature, four glass rooms called "The Ledge" hat protrude from the western side.

You can go out about four feet or so and look straight down, 103 stories.

It looks scary. In fact, a little kid had to be dragged screaming by his dad, who had to pry the kid’s fingers from the edge of wall to carry him out on the ledge for the family photo, which, I’m sure will be a special memory for all.

I figured it was safe, as we could look straight down and I saw no chalk outlines below.

Mold-A-Rama machines
The trip to the top of the Willis Tower was fun, but there was much glory awaiting us at the bottom. After picking up our postcards and wacky Obama finger puppet magnet in the gift shop, we found two Mold-A-Rama machines.

If you are not familiar with these rare, amazing devices, you insert $2, and two halves of a metal mold come together. Before your eyes, they are filled with a waxy substance, which is then deposited in a slot after the sides separate, revealing your train, dinosaur or other newly created work of art and a spatula-like device scrapes it free.

Customers are cautioned to keep the new creation upside down, lest some of the still-liquid wax spill out and giving you a souvenir burn.

I’ve learned that Mold-A-Ramas have been around since 1962, but became very popular at the 1964 New York World’s Fair, though there do not appear to be any waxy Unispheres out there.

The Willis Tower machines produced little versions of the building – a new, custom mold, I’ve learned – and statues of Lincoln, because you can’t leave Illinois without at least one Lincoln souvenir.

“The Bean”
Yeah, I know, it’s technically "Cloud Gate. And sculptor Anish Kapoor reportedly thinks it “completely stupid” for people to call it “The Bean.” Memo to Kapoor: Don’t shape your artwork like giant beans if you don’t want people to call them that.

Cranky and pretentious artists aside, the $23 million leguminous shaped sculpture is really cool. It’s made of 168 polished steel plates, and crews wash the lower regions twice a day to remove all the fingerprints, of which I left many.

Otters
OK, first of all, I had no idea the walk from Navy Pier to the Shedd Aquarium was so long. I thought we could park at the pier as a central location, spend part of the day south at the Shedd and then north on and around Michigan Avenue.

You can see the aquarium right there at the other end of Grand Park, and it was, in fact, a beautiful day to walk along the lakeshore. At my daughter’s insistence, I later checked the distance on MapMyRun.com and learned that it was a good, 2.1-mile hike. She also insisted that we take a water taxi back.

We arrived to find a line stretching out the front doors, down the steps and into the park in front. Memo to people in line: There is another entrance on the side of the aquarium with hardly any line at all.

Once inside, we found the otter tank. Caroline loves otters. While bashful at first, the three otters later came out and put on a show. Like penguins, otters seem to lead a carefree life, swimming, flipping, rolling and otherwise being as cute and cuddly as wild animals can be. Just don’t mess up their order at the drive-thru.

We sat and watched the otters for more than an hour. Caroline likes otters. And her legs were really tired.

Touch and Go Chess Party
We were walking from the Building Formerly Known as the Sears Tower to the Sculpture Popularly Known As The Bean and found this long row of chess boards set up, with a few checker boards as well.

In theory, you could pick a board and challenge all comers, taking on Windy City tourists, Chicago residents and escaped otters.

We resisted, as we were a little pressed for time and the guy wanted $3 to play. I’m holding out for the Touch and Go Trivial Pursuit Party, 1980s Edition.

Now that daughter demands have been met, we can resume the postcard tour, which, coincidently, takes us to Chicago.

Bartman legacy lives on in Wrigley adventure

2011-08-23T23:00:00.008-04:00

I've learned that the Steve Bartman curse is real.

My daughter and I spent the weekend in Chicago visiting otters, scaling tall buildings and doing other things tourists do, and capped off the vacation with Sunday night's Cubs game against the Cardinals.

Wrigley is, if nothing else, an interesting place to see a game, and my daughter learned many things.

I told about some of my past adventures there, including the afternoon when I was sure a Cubs fan died in my lap.

I told her about the ivy and the billy goat, and pointed out how the once quaint tradition of neighbors watching games in lawn chairs atop their roof has been replaced by multi-decked stadium seating owned by corporations.

We visited the statues of Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Ron Santo – and couldn't find where the team has moved the strange monument to Harry Caray.

I also explained the Cubs fans Will calls “Tylers and Trixies” who arrive in the third inning after partying at Murphy's, Sluggers or any of the other Wrigleyville establishments, walk around the park with drink in hand and leave after a former Cub or another Chicago notable sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

But I also told her about the plight of Steve Bartman, the fan who did what any other fan would do when a foul ball came his way. Of course, Bartman reached up for a ball at a pivotal point in the 2003 playoffs, possibly preventing Moises Alou from catching a ball and opening the door for another epic collapse.

You know you're in Wrigley when you see ivy on the wall and generations of sad fans.

I bear no ill-will toward Mr. Bartman, now somewhere in exile. The loss allowed the Florida Marlins to head to the World Series, where they became the second expansion team in three years to deny the Yankees a championship.

During batting practice, we made out way over to the left field corner and pointed out the general area where I thought the now infamous Bartman incident occurred. I had an idea where this was because Will and I posed for photos reenacting the scene, and two of those shots are going to be included in an HBO documentary scheduled to be aired before or during the World Series. True story.

“This is the one, right here,” an usher said as he pointed to the exact seat, numbered 113.

I will say this: The Wrigley ushers are the most friendly, helpful collection of senior citizens anywhere. Several offered to take photos of my daughter and me, and one directed us to a booth near the gift shop where Caroline would be given a certificate saluting her first time at the ballpark.

I was sitting right in the Bartman seat when a ball hit by a Cardinal batter taking his cuts came bouncing our way. I reached out, felt the ball in my outstretched hand – only to have it knocked out by the fan behind me, dropping to the field where neither an usher or Cardinal shagging flies would bestow it upon us. Apparently such duties are reserved for Manny Acosta.

Caroline recreates the Bartman moment. The doof behind her in the jersey is the guy who knocked the ball out of my hand.

We were denied our prize – just like Bartman. The Cubs, of course, went to blow the actual game, 6-2, though no one sought to blame us.

I'm pretty sure Cubs pitcher Rodrigo Lopez gets the blame, especially after surrendering back-to-back homers to John Jay and Yadier “Bleeping” Molina. Both balls were tossed back on the field, which I explained was a Wrigley tradition, and a stupid one at that.

We were pleasantly surprised when Albert Pujols launched a bomb into the bleachers in the fifth inning, and this time the fan held on to it.

From our perch in the upper deck, we could see and hear the abuse the fan was being subjected to. But even a Cubs fan realized that a home run ball hit by the best player in the game is worth holding on to.

Postcard tour: Fastastic Fenway

2011-08-17T21:57:00.005-04:00

There have probably been more words written about Fenway Park than all the other current parks combined – many by authors more accomplished than me.

Like Will, for example, who is a contributor to the 2002 book “The Fenway Project,” edited by Bill Nowlin and Cecilia Tan, a magnificent compilation of New England lore and angst surrounding Red Sox Nation, which wears its oft-broken heart on its sleeve.

And Fenway is the center of the Sox universe and rightly treated as a Boston treasure alongside Old North Church and the U.S.S. Constitution.

Even advertising signs associated with the ballpark are legendary. Not signs located inside the stadium, mind you, but ones that you can see far beyond the outfield wall.

I've had adventures at Fenway. It’s almost impossible to attend a game at Fenway and not have an adventure.

The Mets certainly have had some adventures at Fenway, including the middle three games of the 1986 World Series, of which the team won the first two.

Since then, the Mets have gone 5 and 7 in Boston during interleague play.

And, of course, Fenway was Tom Seaver’s last home as an active player, though his final start was in Toronto.

I last visited Boston since 1991, and was able to pick up some fine postcards.

The fisheye lens card doesn’t seem to give a true feeling for the park, making it seem larger than it is. And the view from the air doesn’t quite show how well the ballpark blends into the neighborhood.

The shot at dusk shows just how beautiful the park is. But my favorite is the one with the red border that looks older than it is. A classic look at a classic park.

I also love the postcard showing the bullpen buggy. I’m an unabashed bullpen buggy fan, and that particular buggy was placed outside an old-school souvenir shop for all to enjoy before games. I have no idea if the old school store is still there, or whether it still rolls out the buggy before games.

But they’re still cool, and I’m surprised some tradition-minded team hasn’t brought them back. Of course, with the Mets’ luck, Bobby Parnell would fall out and get run over.

Postcard tour: Baltimore, a place for brief but memorable visits

2011-08-16T20:30:00.000-04:00

We spent just one day at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, but we had enough adventures to last an entire home stand – or beyond.

We attended a game in the stadium’s final season as part of a Flint Journal story about ballparks, and in the course of one afternoon we:

 Sort of played catch with Cal Ripken Sr.
 Watched Flint native Jim Abbott pitch seven strong innings.
 Ate crab cakes in the press box.
 Lounged around the Angels’ dugout
 Witnessed a full-fledged press box tantrum
 Sat in bleachers – in the upper deck.

All the detais are here. But as the postcard clearly shows, Memorial Stadium was a different-looking kind of ballpark, and a pretty awesome one, too.

The Mets spent just one more game than we did, splitting the first two games of the magical 1969 World Series in Baltimore. The Series never made a return trip, with the Mets completing the miracle in five games.

I have the one postcard of Memorial from that trip, but have managed to acquire more of the team’s new home, Oriole Park at Camden Yards, a bad name for a wonderful stadium.

We enjoyed an incredible hard hat tour of Camden Yards before the game at Memorial. Even then we could tell it was going to be a special place.

The Mets like going there, too, winning 11 of 17 interleague games, including a three-game sweep last season.

Two of the post cards are nice stadium and city shots, and one is an interior photo with team graphics that I was sent by the Orioles, who always added postcards and stickers to my annual request for a schedule.

The final one is my favorite, but not for the reasons you might suspect. Oh, the photo of the ballpark on the front is nice.

But check out the back:

The producers – identified as the Traub Company of Baltimore – have a fill-in-the-blank spot for the name of the ballpark, then a disclaimer: Fees for printing the trademarked name would increase the price of this card.

Seriously? And I don’t recall this postcard being sold in a special, less-expensive rack than the others. Why were these alleged savings not passed along to me, the consumer, who is even asked to complete the job by filling in the stadium name?

And despite being a photo of Baltimore produced by a Baltimore company, the cards proudly state they were printed in Canada.

Classic!

Postcard tour: Atlanta, home of Mets triumph and shame

2011-08-15T21:00:00.000-04:00

Turner Field in Atlanta has, of course, been a graveyard for the Mets. But the fared fairly well in Fulton County Stadium, Braves’ first home.

According too the Ultimate Mets Database, the Mets won 90 games at “The Launching Pad” and lost 100. That’s not bad considering we’re talking about the 30 years between 1966 and 1996, the vast majority of which the Mets were not especially good.
But the two contests we care about the most were on Oct. 4 and 5, the first ever National League Championship Series games.

The Mets won the first 9-5, with Tom Seaver not particularly sharp but the Mets scoring five runs in the eighth. The next day the Mets won again, 11-6, before completing the sweep at Shea.

There was a home run of note hit in the ballpark in 1974.

The Braves moved to Turner Field after the Olympics, and it’s brought nothing but hurt and shame for the Mets, especially the night in 1999 when Kenny Rogers earned his “Bleeping” through is utter inability to throw a strike to a young Andruw Jones, who had no intentions of even swinging.

But I digress.

I’ve been to Atlanta many time, but always on the way to somewhere else, driving through on I-75 or changing flights.

That means postcard shopping has been limited to Hartsfield Airport. I’ve been able to snag one from the Fulton County days.

My favorite of the Turner bunch shows how the Braves chose to commemorate their old stomping grounds, with the outline of the field in the parking lot, with the spot of fence that No. 175 cleared preserved.

Another has goofy writing on it – missing comma and all -- but we get to see the plaza beyond the outfield that marks the original shape of the stadium from the Olympics.

The others are better. One has a nice view of the inside of the stadium from an Opening Day – note the logo behind home plate.

The other is an exterior shot. It must be a playoff game – note the empty seats. Heh. I do like the new trend of teams putting an historic ball on the backs of the scoreboard. I’m assuming that’s the ball from Aaron’s record-setting blast.

But knowing the Braves, it’s the ball that Kenny Rogers threw high and outside. Or any number of Chipper Jones’ pain inflicting homers.

Next we head to Baltimore, and more pleasant Mets memories.

Postcard tour: First The BOB, then Chase but forever the home of Fonzie's slam

2011-08-14T19:01:00.004-04:00

Chase Field has only been around about a dozen years, yet it has already hosted two glorious events.

First, it was a scene of major Yankee weepage, when the Diamondbacks overcame the Evil Empire and its cyborg closer in the seventh game of the 2001 World Series.

Then, it was the host for this year’s All-Star Game, a lovely Jeter-less affair won by the National League for the second year in a row.

The ballpark is famous for being the first retractable roof stadium with real grass, and it has a neat pool just beyond the right field fence.

The yard, previously known as Bank One Ballpark – or “The BOB” – holds a place in Mets history. The Wild Card Mets played the Diamondbacks in the 1999 Division Series, with the first two games in Phoenix. It was the D-Backs first trip to the post season.

Masato Yoshii faced Randy Johnson, and the game was tied in the top of the ninth inning. Buck Showalter allowed The Unit to stay in the game, at least long enough to load the bases and allow a reliever to tee-up an Edgardo Alfonzo grand slam, propelling the Mets to victory.

Kenny Rogers blew the second game, which, of course, would become a trend.

Having never been to Phoenix, I’ve got but one postcard of the ballpark, a gift from a friend who traveled out west. This one is pretty neat, with the roof open so we can see the turf. The ballpark has one of those roof signs, and it looks like there was a lot of construction going on at the time this photo was snapped.

But so begins our tour of non-Met ballparks. Next stop is Atlanta, where there are not as many warm and fuzzy moments.

Shea still remains, at least on postcards.

2011-08-13T21:35:00.019-04:00

Postcards are among the way-too-many things I collect, and I’ve had a lot of fun at work and on Facebook writing about the really bad ones.

Now that those are out of my system, I can focus on the other extreme – postcards showing baseball stadiums, especially those belonging to the Mets.

I’ve tried to collect stadium postcards from all the modern ballparks, and usually ask friends, relatives and co-workers to keep an eye out for the on their travels. Note, if you are on the go, I’m missing several.

But of course, all stadium postcard discussions start with Shea Stadium and Citi Field. Mostly Shea, that is, because I’ve struggled to find anything depicting the Mets new home and my glorious brick installed near the front door.

Actually, the selection for Shea is fairly slim, at least considering the bounty available in cities like S. Louis, where Busch Stadium postcards seem to rival those of the Arch.

I’ve come across two early Shea cards, both linked to the World’s Fair. Both are artist renderings, one showing the stadium and the whole waterfront and even part of the airport.

The second is more familiar, a painting that that was used in various team publications. I’ve not sure what’s casting the giant shadows in the parking lots.
The first postcard with an actual photo of Shea is again tied to the wonderful fair, with the stadium in the background and the spectacular Unisphere in front.

The first Shea-centric photo card I’ve found still has the World’s Fair logo, with a view looking into the horseshoe, but blocked by the back of the scoreboard. I’ve tried to figure out where the slightly elevated shot must have been snapped, and there are no postcards I’ve seen looking in unobstructed from beyond leftfield.

Another card uses the same photo, but with cartoon Mets and Jets players.

I’ve found two 1970s era postcards, a large one with a yellow border that just screams the decade. A second is probably the only Shea photo I’ve seen that allows us to see the New York skyline in the background – the real one, not the loveable plywood version that was atop the scoreboard for years. And the orange and blue panels are awesome.

I came across another Shea painting postcard, though it’s part of a tribute to the 1969 team, and there’s a card for every player, coach and even the broadcasters.
The 1980s were not kind to Shea postcards, and I’ve yet to find one with the deep blue paint job.

But there are two nice cards from the 2000s, both interior views, shot at night. One was part of a final season postcard set I found in the Mets gift shop.

The final Shea card – courtesty of Greg Prince – places the beloved ballpark in its proper place among treasured New York landmarks. It’s a general New York card, and we have a photo in the lower right showing the iconic spires of the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. Then the left side of the card is dominated by a view of the Manhattan skyline, taken, I think, from the south.

That left only room in the top right, and much of New York to represent. What image might be inserted to bring back warm memories of a trip to the Big Apple, or to tell a loved one, “Wish you were here” and really mean it? Lady Liberty might work, possibly Times Square. But are worthy, but why take a chance? The postcards producers wisely opted for a view of Shea.

With the arrival of the new ballpark and a hole in the collection, I spent part of my whirlwind New York trip in March searching high and low for a Citi Field postcard. Actually, I was confined to shops in and around Times Square , Penn Station and the Newark Airport. Denied.

So this artwork postcard will have to make do until I can make a return trip.

And, I suppose the spring training site at Port S. Lucie counts as a Mets home, and I have found one card showing what then was called Thomas White Stadium and the five practice fields.

Epic pursuit of 1971 Topps set comes down to Jon Matlack, Ted Martinez and Rick Folkers

2011-08-09T23:16:00.011-04:00

Jon Matlack and Ted Martinez were players on the 1973 N.L. Champion Mets, and Rich Folkers was forever one of those players in the small photos in the back of the yearbooks on the “On the Way to Shea” page.

But together they played an important role in a milestone event in my card collecting career – completing the magnificent 1971 Topps baseball set.

Will and I headed to the National Sports Collectors Convention last weekend, an event we’ve attend and covered on and off since we joined forces and formed the cardboard crusaders in the early 1990s, dispensing our wisdom and generally annoying dealers in our weekly Flint Journal sports column.

We both long ago moved on to other jobs, but continued the hobby we embraced as kids, and an opportunity to cover the largest card show in the country as it appeared in Chicago was not to be missed.

And any epic journey must include adventures. We endured coming face-to-face with former Yankee and known Hall-of-Fame autograph ball abuser Reggie Jackson, rogue security guards, disorganized dealers, Diet Coke depravation and traumatic accidental iPhone separation. We barely lived to tell this tale.

We made out way to the convention center, located in the shadow of O'Hare Airport.

Anyway, the completing the 1971 set has been a collecting target since the mid-1990s. My goal is to complete a Topps base set run from 1970 through the present. I’ve had the 1973 issue – the first cards I started purchasing on my own as a kid -- in hand since the early 1990s. But I’ve been chipping away at the other three ever since.

They’re special sets. Topps went through dreadful design doldrums in the late 1960s, recycling design elements and even photos. But in 1970, someone at the company must have remembered that baseball cards are supposed to be really cool.

The 1970 set is a fine return to form, but the 1971 issue made it seem as if someone told the designers to throw away the rule book.

That concept was ratcheted up one more notch in 1972, a fantastic series of pure 1970s pop art. The Tom Seaver card from that set has been declared The Greatest Card Ever.

The 1971 issue was an important step to get there. With its black borders and back-of- the card photos, it was unlike any previous issue. And Topps for the first time made extensive use of action photos. Some are considered classics because they look like they were snapped from the stands, and I don’t mean the expensive seats, either.

Four players and an umpire are on this card, and we have to assume that one of them is Buddy Harrelson.

And it was a set that I needed to build entirely from scratch, having gathered none of the cards as a kid. The mission became more difficult as weekend mall shows became scarce and the remaining cards dwindled to harder-to-find high numbers and short prints. I’d pick up a card here or there, but the pace certainly slowed in the last decade.

So I headed to Chicago with my list of 13 cards needed to complete the 1971 set, along with the 48 1972s and many more 1970s. You bring such lists because you just never know when you might stumble upon a magical 10-cent bin.

Arriving Saturday afternoon, we made a quick pass of the show, which, while not the overwhelming experience it was at the height of the hobby’s popularity, is still pretty huge.

The challenge of a show this big is that you’ll see things you need, things you want and things that you never even knew existed. Focus is important for a budget-minded collector, like me.

We did find three cards on the list quickly, before finding some old friends who operate a family friendly card show back in our old stomping grounds of Grand Blanc. Catching up at his booth, we noticed a minor commotion across the aisle.

It seems that Reggie Jackson, the strikeout prone former Yankee, was admiring one of his old Oakland jerseys that was on display. I noticed that the people running the booth didn’t let Reggie touch anything there. We know from personal experience that Jackson can’t be trusted with prized artifacts. We kept our distance.

We returned extra early Sunday morning, battling misinformed and overzealous security personnel who did not appreciate the important role of the media in the collecting hobby, or, apparently, the rules of the show.

We already were on edge after realizing that the iPhone, the essential tether to the outside world, was accidently left charging on an end table at Will’s apartment. This was a crisis of unimaginable proportions. The previous record for iPhone separation was about 42 minutes, and that was a very, very long 42 minutes. It was a dark time, and I don’t want to dwell on it.

Now we were to be separated for most of the day, unable to call, tweet, email or otherwise connect with the outside world for almost the whole day. Unthinkable.

Starting the day under this dark cloud, we attacked the show. Will had already scouted out some potential tables for me, writing down their locations.

I scored three of the cards within the first 20 minutes, then bounced around to several more dealers, finding two here and three there, crossing off numbers and player names as I went along.

Finally, I was down to two cards. One was No. 559 is American League Rookies with Terry Cox, Bill Gogolewski and Gary Jones. Because the Yankees are always seeking to make life difficult for me, cards of their players are usually more expensive and a little harder to find. Jones, sadly for him, will always bear the stain of being a Yankee.

The other was far more enjoyable, but posed a greater problem. No. 648 is Mets Rookie Stars, featuring Matlack, Martinez and Folkers.

Matlack, of course, was part of the Mets fearsome mound trio that included Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman. He was a future rookie of the year and a three-time All-Star, even sharing MVP honors in the 1975 game. Plus, his middle name is Trumpbour , which is cool.

Martinez was a nice-fielding utility player who played in five seasons for the Mets.

Folkers was a former first-round draft pick who had a cup of coffee with the Mets in in 1970, but spent all of 1971 in the minors and was traded to the Cardinals after the season with Jim Bibby, Charlie Hudson and Art Shamsky for Jim Beauchamp, Chuck Tayor, Harry Parker and Chip Coulter.

He is probably best remembered for a line by the Padres' malaprop-prone broadcaster Jerry Coleman: “Rich Folkers is throwing up in the bullpen."

And I felt a little like hurling when I could find the card a several tables, but all in the $18 to $25 price range, which is far more than my budget would permit.
I found a table near the back of the room with a table covered with binders of cards from the 1960s and 1970s. I flipped through the 1971 book, and chatted with the friendly gentlemen working there, telling them that I was two cards short of completing the awesome set.

“We’ll get you there,” one of them said confidently, looking at my list. They were nice guys from North Carolina. I know this because reporters are nosey and chatty and I ask questions.

One of the men pulled the Cox, Gogolewski and Jones from a box for a very agreeable price, and I flipped to the page where No. 648 was supposed to be.

There it was, and in very nice shape. The 1971 set is famous for its black borders that scuff easily, making it tough to find in mint shape for people who demand such a thing. I just like having the cards, so I’m not as demanding. When I saw how nice this one looked, I expected it to be in a budget-busting range.

The gentleman looked up the card in the price guide, then looked over at me. “This is the last one you need?”

I nodded.

“How about $5?”

A little pricy for me, but I knew this was the best deal I was going to get anywhere.This was a gift, and I knew it. I threw my fists in the air, a slightly more reserved version of the infamous “Yes! Yes!” dance.

I handed him the cash and he handed me cards in a plastic sleeve.

“Hey, this guy just completed the 1971 set,” the gentleman said to one of partners.
“Congratulations! That’s quite a milestone.”

And it is.

Motor City adventures with Manny Acosta, our new favorite Met,

2011-07-05T06:40:00.014-04:00

So Manny Acosta is one of my favorite Mets now. Yeah, it surprised me, too.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Caroline and I made the trip to Detroit last week to see our Mets battle the Tigers at Comerica Park. Now, any opportunity to see the Mets is a great and glorious one, but my last two Motor City-Mets meetings have not gone well for our boys.

The first was a 14-0 bengal beatdown in the Mets' first-ever game in Detroit. The second adventure, this time at Comerica in 2007 was a little better, though the Mets still lost 15-7 with Tom Glavine being disappointed but not devastated.

But those games were during the Streak of Shame. Since that was snapped in Cincinnati, I'm a Mets good luck charm, with a 9-0 victory at Citi Field and even a pair of spring training wins.

Detroit fans are a pretty mellow and humble bunch, so I never fear abuse for wearing Mets gear. The Tom Seaver 1969 flannel gets taken out for only the most formal occasions, so with the assistance of the friends in the Crane Pool Forum I opted to wear the 1992 Eddie Murray home jersey. With racing stripes and buttons, it's very tasteful.

We arrived before the gates opened – of course – and stood in line with another Long Island transplant, he wearing a black David Wright road jersey. He said he was surprised that he wasn't getting any abuse, adding that Phillies fans start abusing him even before he gets to the ballpark.

I wasn't too surprised – Phillies fans can be rough, as Rob will confirm. But I was even less surprised when my new friend mentioned that a pre-game ritual is driving through the streets of Philly with a Chase Utley jersey dragging behind the car. That's hardcore.

We made our way to the first row alongside the Mets dugout to watch batting practice. I brought the glorious Mets book on the off-chance that a player would come by and sign autographs. The Mets are notorious non-signers, and I'm usually very happy to get just a wave.

But third base coach Chip Hale came along, then Scott Hairston. That's two signatures added to the hundreds in the book, and one more than the 2007 encounter, when only Jorge Sosa was willing to be included in the tome.

Brother-in-law Jeff's advice about StubHub was spot-on, so much so that a Comerica usher thought we were seat-crashing in out spots in the aisle 25 rows behind Mets dugout. He was apologetic after I produced the tickets, and our new friend, offering two Tigers pocket schedules with Justin Verlander and much discussion throughout the game. He thought Jose Reyes would look good in a Tigers uniform.

And, as if his ears were burning, Jose led off with a hit, moved to second and scored on Daniel Murphy's double. The Murphy scored on Angel Pagan's double. The team already was ahead of the 1997 game.

But the best was to come in the fourth inning. Josh Thole launched an absolute bomb into the right field bleachers. Then Reyes tripled and came around on a Willie Harris hit.

My daughter was keeping score, and we discussed strategy amid the glorious scoring. With men on third and second and first base open and two out, I explained that Angel Pagan would get nothing to hit and probably walk because the Tigers would rather pitch to Jason Bay, who, I explained, is a bum.

Daddy looked wise when Pagan did, in fact, walk. And he looked like a dunce when Bay ripped one down the left field line, just around the foul pole and into the stands for a grand slam.

The Mets had not him a grannie since 2009, and have given up 18 of them since, mostly to the Phillies. So this historic moment was appreciated and apologies extended to Mr. Bay.

The next inning the Mets loaded the bases again, this time with Carlos Beltran at the dish. Beltran, I explained, is not a bum. But it would be too much to ask for another grand slam from a team seemingly allergic to them. Nobody told that to Beltran, and he smacked one over the left-centerfield wall for the second slam in as many innings.

There was only mild concern when the Tigers' Austin Jackson cracked a two-run homer in the bottom of that inning and when Andy Dirks send one deep in the seventh.

The Mets tacked on one more to make it 14, sending most of the Tigers fans packing. Caroline and I moved down a little closer so we could get photos of the post-game celebration, rare as they might be with me in attendance.

Now, I confess. I have said some unkind things about Mets pitcher Manny Acosta in the past. I was not entirely thrilled to see him take the hill in the ninth inning, even with a 14-3 game seemingly in hand.

But Brennan Boesch popped out to left, Dirks made an out to second, and Don Kelly swung and missed for a strike three, ending the game.

It was fun to see the Mets celebrating the big win, and I knew Acosta had the ball that was used for final out. As he walked to the dugout steps, we called out, “Nice game, Manny!” He looked up and must have seen Caroline and I in our Mets finest, because he smiled and threw us the ball. I had my camera in one hand and grabbed the ball in another, clutching it to my body.

Some kid next to me started pawing me, trying to wrest the ball from my grip.

Then, I heard a voice I had never heard before – coming from me, nonetheless. It was deep and scary.

Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Ball.

The kid pulled his hands away, knowing what was good for him. I promptly gave the ball to my own kid to enjoy.

Manny Acosta. How about that.

A different usher asked to see the ball – he promised to give it back – and then offered to take a photo of me and Caroline. He then directed us to guest services, where the staff members would present us with a certificate proclaiming that we, in fact, had an official ball from a Major League Game.

On the way out I apologized for any unkind things I might or might not have said about Mr. Bay and Mr. Acosta, and we slipped off into the Detroit night for the long trip home, rewarded by the Mets for our devotion.

Let me tell you about Dale

2011-06-14T15:30:00.010-04:00

My future wife warned me as I was headed to meet her folks for the first time, during Easter weekend in 1986.

“Don't worry if my Dad doesn't talk to you much,” she said. “He's kind of quiet.”

That was an understatement. Dad could make Calvin Coolidge seem chatty. But it didn't take long for me to realize that his actions spoke volumes, revealing the wonderful person he was.

We lost Dad early Tuesday to pneumonia. He was 76.

I learned much about Dale Nelson from his friends and family over the years because he clearly was not one to boast.

Born to a family of Norwegian farmers, Dad was the youngest of four children and the first to head off, going to veterinary school at Iowa State University.

After serving in the U.S. Army, and short stays in New Orleans – where an elderly neighbor taught him how to make a perfect gin and tonic – Pennsylvania and Iowa, Dad went to the University of Illinois' College of Veterinary Medicine to teach and work with large animals.

Dad was humble. Covering schools for years, I've encountered many administrators with doctorates in education who insisted on being addressed as “doctor.” Dad was a gifted veterinary surgeon. A staff member told me Tuesday that one of his evaluations referenced "golden hands." But in the 26 years I knew Dad, never once did I hear him introduce himself as “doctor.”

He didn't need titles, and didn't seek out attention or credit. For years he resisted promotions, fearing they would mean more meetings and time away from what he enjoyed most, working with students and the animals.

He was a tough professor, requiring surgical students to write essay exams. Doctors, he believed, needed to learn how to communicate better. He also required that each of his children take a speech class in high school.

When working on big research projects, he insisted that younger doctors starting their careers got the credit, which he said they needed to advance in the “publish or perish” world of academia.

He was respected by his peers. Groups invited him around the world to help people in developing countries learn how to care for their livestock.

Dad enjoyed working with large animals, but had a soft spot for small creatures. It wasn't long after constructing an out building on the property in Monticello, two stray cats found their way inside to escape the cold. Dad soon created a shelf under windows with baskets, pillows and heat lamps so the two kitties could stay warm and still have a view.

Dad was a gentleman. I can't recall him saying an unkind word about anyone, except maybe University of Michigan football coach Bo Schembechler. I heard him swear only once, after we broke a chainsaw blade while cutting down a tree in my backyard. I don't know what scared me more, the sight of the sharp blade flying off or the sound of Dad cussing.

Dad was generous. If help was needed, it would arrive, quietly, of course – and without the beneficiary having to ask for it.

He loved his three grandchildren, taking delight in hearing about the latest school projects or activities. They were, perhaps, the subject of Dad's only boasting.

And he took great joy in family gatherings, always sitting on the fringe, peeking over the newspaper, listening to the banter as a smile peeked out from under his bushy mustache.

Dad loved a good book, the morning paper, Illini football, cowboy boots, tending to his apple trees, and most of all, his wife of 53 years, Alberta.

Dad was quiet, but after that first Easter weekend gathering, I quickly learned that when he had something to say, it was important. And I listened.

Whitecaps help look at autism a little differently

2011-06-05T22:51:00.003-04:00

I used to lead my church's middle school youth group, and one of the kids in the group was diagnosed as autistic when he was a toddler.

You wouldn't have known it at first. He was just a little more challenging than the other middle school kids, which, of course, is saying something.

But I grew to understand – and appreciate – that he saw the world a little differently.

One night I planned a lesson to show that we can't see God, but we can see the effects of God. To illustrate the concept I set out on the table several scenes.

One had a apple with a bite taken out, another had a broken piece of glass and a opened Band-Aid wrapper, and another had my portable CD player next to an opened package of AA batteries with two missing.

The idea is that we didn't see someone take a bite of the apple, cut their finger or replace the batteries, but we can guess what happened based on what we found and what we know. And we don't have to see God to know what he has done.

I gave each of the students a reporters notebook and told them to write down what they thought occurred at each scene.

Most of them wrote down was you would expect. But my autistic member's explanations were a little different.

“Wasteful teenager leaves behind a perfectly good apple.”

“Careless person leaves his expensive CD player unattended.”

The middle-schooler, I realized, saw things just a little bit differently.

I thought of the boy Sunday when I attended Autism Awareness Day with the West Michigan Whitecaps, the Detroit Tigers' Midwest-A affiliate.

The team does a great job supporting some causes. We almost always attend Breast Cancer Awareness Day, when the Caps wear pink jerseys. They have special Star Wars jerseys, too, advocating for the defeat of the Evil Empire.

Sunday's special jerseys were covered in colorful puzzle pieces, intended to represent the ambiguity and mystery around the causes of the condition. Many early Autism Awareness campaigns used the slogan “Help Solve the Puzzle”

The Whitecaps had no problem solving the Cedar Rapids Kernels this day, a 10-3 pounding to complete a three-game sweep.

Like Crash Davis said, we were dealing with some heavy stuff

2011-05-15T23:11:00.004-04:00

OK, it has been a busy six weeks since the last post, a long sabbatical from the blog.

Many things went on, preventing me from getting near the personal keyboard, all deserving comment.

In quick review:

I went to New Orleans for a work trip. New Orleans is a very odd place, but it was nicer than I expected. And of course there were adventures.

The Mets appear to be streaky and injury prone, so nothing has changed much.

I finished the semester. This was the first time I’ve tried teaching two classes in one semester, and both had more students than I’ve ever had. Grading writing assignments is time-intensive, and it was a challenging time.

I got a hard hat tour of a local federal building that was once a court house, post office and art museum. Now it’s going to become a college building after massive renovations. But in one of the rooms I discovered a plaque that revealed events transpired in that room that affected baseball for 50 years.

The Yankees are in turmoil. It looks like Jeter’s expensive new contract is going to be an anchor, and the catcher/designated hitter looks even more washed up than the rangeless one. This is good.

The Mets seem to think the games they do win, they win because they are wearing the black jerseys. This is a bad.

I had an opportunity to meet an Academy Award-winning actress and ask her just one question, which I extended to three. But I assumed she liked the Mets, so I left that particular question unasked.

And, most recently, I ran in a massive 5K race. While I arrived on time this time and didn’t have to jump over pets, I did have to try sprinting through a downpour. It’s been two days, and my shoes aren’t dry yet.

So, I was walking down Bourbon Street trying to stay out of trouble. And I’m sincere about that. Many people walk down Bourbon Street with the intention of finding trouble, and I saw a bunch of those people.

But that’s not me.

But I was walking down the street with my shopping bag wit souvenirs for my kids, and I felt something hit me on the arm. I looked down and saw white beads draped over the top of the bag and looked up.

And there, looking down from a Bourbon Street balcony, were two sweet, gray-haired grannies, smiling and waving.

It got stranger from there…but it won’t take six weeks to report back.

For year No. 47: Jay and Jesse, fresh starts and happy endings

2011-04-03T22:27:00.006-04:00

It's a pitcher's number.

I'm referring to No. 47. And after consulting the magnificent “Mets by the Numbers,” by Jon Springer and Matt Silverman, I know that of the 14 Mets to wear the number, 13 were hurlers.

Some important folks, too. Jay Hook wore No. 47 when he pitched the Mets to their first-ever victory in 1962, over the Pirates. A smart guy, Hook was a Northwestern grad who went to work as an engineer when his playing days were over.

Another was former closer Jesse Orosco, who struck out Marty Barrett to finish off the Boston Red Sox in Game Seven of the 1986 World Series. Jesse also struck out the Astros' Kevin Bass to end the NLCS, and I thought of that moment when I wandered into the Astrodome in 2009. Durable Orosco holds the major league record for appearances by a reliever.

I've been thinking about openings and closings a lot as I approached birthday 47 today. Both can be exciting and scary, too. Like R.A. Dickey's dancing knuckleball against the Marlins today, we're just not always sure where we're headed or the exact path we'll take to get there. I'm trusting God has a plan.

And, should there be a transition this year, I'd rather be like Jesse, rejoicing as he threw his glove to the heavens, and not another Met No. 47 – Tom Glavine, who was famously “disappointed, but not devastated” after puking away the final game of the 2007 season and the team's playoff chances.

The one non-pitcher to wear No. 47 was Super Joe McEwing, who delivered one of my favorite quotes in Mets history.

Back in 2005, a young and aggressive David Wright tried to break up a double play in a tight game against the Braves. Wright slid way out of the baseline to knock down the fielder, and the runner at first was called out. It's the kind of play you never see called against the Yankees, but always against the Mets, especially in tight, important games against the Braves. There was much controversy.

McEwing was a mentor to Wright, and had since been traded to the Royals. But after the game he called him.

“Why were you trying to take out Andruw Jones?” he asked.

Jones, of course, was the Braves' center fielder.

You've seen the best, now look at the worst Mets cards -- if you dare!

2011-03-23T23:11:00.009-04:00

We’ve spent the last couple months looking at the best Mets baseball cards. But its time to look at the flip side, and I don’t mean the place with all the stats.

For every 1986 there is a 1979. Opening Day is nearby, and before we turn away from cards we need to consider the very worst Mets cards offered up by Topps and some of the others companies.

Several things determine a bad card. I’ll allow companies to have an occasional off design, especially when they were issuing dozens of sets for a while.

And you are going to find some dull, lifeless photos. Not every player is Mr. Charisma.

But the ones that get my goat tend to be the cards that show a total lack of caring. We’ve seen great cards, so we know what the companies are capable of. But here’s what happens when they just stop giving a darn.

In year order:

1969 Tommie Agee

Agee played 132 games as a Met in 1968, 61 of them at Shea Stadium, a short drive from the Topps offices. So why does the company show Agee in an old photo in an air-brushed White Sox uniform? It’s not even a classic Topps headshot here, someone airbrushed the uniform. The 1969 set is notorious for its use of recycled photos, even for stars like Tom Seaver. But this just terrible. Tommy deserved better.

1972 Jim Beauchamp

I’ll forgive the airbrushing since Beauchamp arrived in 1972. But couldn’t the photo at least find a shot with his eyes open? It’s not like headshots are all that tough to shoot.

1981 Bill Almon

Hey, Topps photog. When you twist the lens on the front of the camera, you can actually bring things into focus. Brutal.

1983 Rick Ownbey

This is one of Topps best sets, and the design is intended to have a big action shot of a player and a small headshot in the inset. Ownbey appeared in only 8 games in 1982 and 10 in 1983, so I’m glad he has a card at all. But the inset is virtually the same size as the posed shot, and it’s clearly from another shot in the same roll.

1992 Donruss Vince Coleman

Somebody forget to tell the person cropping the photo that we’d rather have a complete Vince in the picture than the complete number 3. This is like a photo of the outfield wall that just happens to include Vice Coleman instead of the other way around.

1992 Topps Stadium Club Bill Pulsipher

Topps did the high school yearbook thing for a number of young players in this set and the Bowman set. I have no idea why. There are too many of these for it to be a fluke, with the company caught without a photo. And the glove shows that there was some thought in the pose. But the shirt, the hair and the off-camera glance make this the worst of a bad bunch.

1997 Fleer Metal Mark Clark

I’m not panning Fleer for trying something a little – well, a lot – different with the fantasy inspired Metal sets. Some of them are pretty cool in an odd kind of way. But it seems like they forgot to include Mark Clark in this Mark Clark card. I look at this and expect to see the stats for the fire-breathing monster on the back.

2004 Upper Deck Play Ball Jose Reyes

This is an artsy painting of Jose Reyes. I know this because it says “Jose Reyes” on the bottom, and not because the painting above bears even the slightest resemblance to our favorite shortstop.

2005 Donruss Champions Roger Cedeno

I’m using this one card to call attention to an entire set. This was a premium issue. I know the companies were looking for some niche audiences. This must be the set aimed at people who didn’t want photos of baseball players cluttering up their bland background baseball cards.

2005 Topps Gallery Kaz Matsui

I suspect this might have been a nice painting of Matsui before some intern left it out in the rain. I know, the Gallery cards where supposed to be artsy fartsy. This painting might even work as a program cover or something. But it’s not a baseball card.

2010 Topps National Chicle Nolan Ryan

I know it looks like I’m down on the art cards. That’s not true, as you can tell from the previous posts. But I’m down on bad art cards. I’d say that it’s nice Topps hired Mrs. Cooper’s third-graders to illustrate a set, but I don’t want to be unkind to third-graders. This looks more like John Maine than Nolan Ryan. Heck, it looks more like me than Nolan Ryan.

Last looks at Topps' rivals in Mets cards

2011-03-13T20:06:00.015-04:00

The folks at Topps must have felt too threatened by the first couple Fleer and Donruss sets, but it didn’t take all that long for the rivals to get better. By the time Upper Deck and Score joined the field, Topps was the choice for loyalists, but not necessarily those who demanded quality above all else.

This is not to say that everything issued by the newcomers was first-rate. But there were some glorious moments of Mets on cardboard, as we wrap up our look at favorite non-Topps Mets.

1990 Donruss Dwight Gooden and Sid Fernandez

The 1990 Donruss set has no business being as good as it is. Splattered paint, bright red borders, the drabbest possible backs, “error cards” and massive over-production is not a recipe for a classic issue. But somehow it works. This is one of my favorite sets.

Donruss filled this with great action cards, like this Dwight Gooden, and nice portraits, like El Sid.
1998 Donruss Don Darling.

Not the best Donruss design, but I like this Darling portrait because we get a great view of the script New York the Mets wore on the road uniforms for only the 1987 season. Am I the only one who likes that uniform?

1998 Studio Dwight Gooden, 2003 Al Leiter and 2004 Mike Piazza

I wasn’t too keen on the idea of a black and white set when Studio made its debut, but some of those portraits are beautiful. And Donruss soon found different ways to showcase the portraits, with backgrounds of lockers, cap logos, patches, stadiums and cityscapes.

2004 Donruss Team Heroes Kaz Matsui

Remember how excited we all were when the Mets signed Matsui? Our own Ichiro! Well, that didn’t turn out as we hoped. But I like this card showing Kaz after his introduction press conference posing in Times Square.

1999 Fleer Turk Wendell

Fleer had some great designs. The 1999 set wasn’t one of them. But I love this portrait of Turk and his tooth and claw necklace. Certainly one of the more colorful Mets, Wendell was actually a pretty good reliever, too.

2001 Fleer Ultra Todd Zeile

Ultra was Fleer’s answer to Topps’ Stadium Club, and was usually a decent set. Everything seems to work in this action shot of Zeile, with the pinstripes, the foul line and lots of Pete Flynn’s manicured grass.

Upper Deck Vintage Tom Seaver

UD tried to tap into the Topps devoted fan base by aping some of the company’s best designs for its retro Vintage sets. This set copies the 1965 design, and it gets points for showing Seaver from the 1983 homecoming season, which can’t be saluted enough!

2001 Upper Deck Legends Tom Seaver

Sometimes UD even used one of its own designs for veteran players. I don’t think I’d seen this nice, relaxed Seaver portrait before this issue.

1992 Upper Deck John Franco

I used to argue that that Mets should retire Franco’s number. Now I’m not so sure, but he should most definitely be in the Mets Hall of Fame.

2001 Upper Deck and 2008 Upper Deck David Wright

Now, I do think David Wright will earn his way on to the wall with Casey, Gil, Tom and Jackie – and someday Mike. This posed portrait is a little odd because he’s wearing a jersey with a 2000 World Series patch, a series he didn’t play in. In fact, he was drafted with the pick the Mets earned for losing Mike Hampton, one of the stars of that postseason

I like that Upper Deck used this photo from the All-Star Game, snapped after Wright hit his home run.

Wait, companies other than Topps made baseball cards too? Here are some of the best Mets

2011-03-06T19:09:00.012-05:00

Now that we’ve counted down the Topps top 60 of all time and even added a bunch on to that, I think it’s fair to acknowledge that there are some amazing cards that were, in fact, not produced by Topps.

At the risk of completely beating the baseball card theme to death and then some, I want to point out some of the sweet Mets cards by other companies, all of which have since been banished. And it’s better than reading more about Oliver Perez and Luis Castillo.

This isn’t a countdown and is by no means exhaustive, but just some of the finest work from Topps’ vanquished rivals – part one.

1991 Score Dream Team Frank Viola and 1992 Upper Deck Bret Saberhagen.

Sweet Music Viola and Saberhagen were the two most heralded Mets hurler acquisitions prior to Johan Santana. Viola delivered, by and large, becoming the last Mets pitcher to win 20 games. Saberhagen, arrived in New York with two Cy Young Awards on his mantle, and well, didn’t add a third.

But both posed with big apples to show at least the appearance of devotion to our favorite city. Viola’s a New Yorker by birth and Saberhagen, well, likely did what the photographer told him to do.

True story: When people work for my newspaper for 10 years they are asked to pose for a photo that is used to make a little cutout figure that lines the walls of the cafeteria. I noticed that one employee posed in his Mets jersey with a big apple, a shot that might have been inspired by these cards.

2007 Upper Deck Endy Chavez

Endy’s NLCS Game Seven act of superhuman fielding is possibly the most glorious catch in Mets history, with apologies to Mr. Agee and Mr. Swoboda. Too bad Yadier Bleeping Molina had to go and ruin things. Topps used the photo for one half of a postseason card, but Upper Deck gave the moment the attention it deserves.

1984 Fleer Darryl Strawberry

To their credit, the folks at Fleer knew how to keep a design nice and simple, and not detracting from the photo. Sadly, the photos were often kind of lacking. But this card of a youthful Straw in his first full year is darn near perfect.

1986 Donruss Gary Carter

No design was too busy for Donruss, however. Sometimes it worked well, and the 1986 set was one of the company’s best. For some reason, the photos seemed particularly crisp. I love the lighting on this action shot showing Kid at the tail end of his swing, watching the flight of the ball before chugging down the basepath.

2008 Upper Deck Goudey Tom Seaver

I like retro sets, in theory. But some of the ones that have artwork instead of photos are pretty nasty, almost as if the task was delegated to Mrs. Jackson’s third-graders on finger-paint day.

But when the companies decide to make a set special, and not just something to justify the inserts, the results can be spectacular. This Tom Terrific card from Upper Deck’s Goudey set hits the mark and then some.

2007 Upper Deck Goudey Carlos Beltran and Carlos Delgado

Upper Deck had a good run with these sets. A year before the Seaver gem, the company used most of the artwork in the backgrounds. The Beltran card recalls the old-school ballparks. The Delgado card goes one step beyond, with the pose, the smile, the sun illuminating his face.

Every signature tells a story: Duke Snider and a pair of really nice rings

2011-02-27T19:14:00.006-05:00

You can’t really get to know someone while he’s signing an autograph at a card show, but sometimes I think you can get a glimpse at what a person is like.

Reggie Jackson was famously a jerk when I met him at a New Haven, Conn. show as he banged my prized Hall of Fame ball on the table, said, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” then rolled it down the table.

Maybe Reggie was having a bad day. But we’ve all read stories that make us think Reggie has a lot of bad days.

Then there was an afternoon in Trumbull, Conn. when Duke Snider was appearing at a small show. This was back when these events were fairly new and autographs weren’t more than a couple dollars, even for some Hall of Famers.

We lost Snider Sunday at age 84.

Snider, of course, was doubly special. He was he part of the famed New York centerfield trio of “Willie, Mickey and the Duke” saluted in song by Terry Cashman.
But, more importantly, he was a Met.

The team’s All-Star in 1963, Edwin Donald Snider hit just .243 for the Mets, well below his .295 career average. But hit 14 homers and drove in 45 on a team that didn’t have too many runners to drive home.

But truth be told, the 1963 season was more of a curtain call for Snider, beloved as a Brooklyn Dodger and one of the players dragged out to Los Angeles, where he never really duplicated his MVP-caliber statistics.

So Snider was one of the rare players I’d be able to ask to sign both the Hall of Fame ball and my glorious Mets book.

We approached him at the usual hotel conference room table, where the white-haired gentleman sat with Sharpies. My wife and I arrived near the end of his signing time, and there were not too many folks left, giving us a little time.

As he signed, I mentioned that my Dad grew up in Brooklyn and watched the Duke at Ebbets Field, which brought a smile, though I’m sure he had heard that all day.

I noticed the massive ring on his finger.

“That’s my Hall of Fame ring,” he said, taking it off so I could get a closer look. This was in 1988, and Snider was elected in 1980, a ridiculously long wait for such a player.

Snider noticed that my wife was with me, and must have figured that we were newlyweds because a woman at baseball card show is rarer than a 1972 Topps high number Jim Fregosi traded card. Only a newlywed would attend such a thing, at least happily.

“You have a nice ring, too,” he said to my wife, who immediately perked up.

“Would you like to see it?” she asked?

“Sure!” Duke replied, and made the appropriate approving sounds.

It was an unexpected surprise, and we got a pretty good idea of why Snider was beloved in Brooklyn.

Sitting across the room was Indians slugger Joe Carter. Now, Carter was a very, very good player but had no connection to the tri-state area or was a Hall of Famer. I have no idea why the promoter booked him, and at this point in the day there was no one waiting for his signature.

Carter eventually would finish with 396 homers, just shy of Snider’s 407. And he owns one of the greatest home runs in World Series history. But he was just entering his prime when we encountered him.

Having spent our money acquiring Snider’s signature, we had nothing to spend on Carter, nor anything for him to sign, given his lack of Metness or Cooperstown credentials.

But we went over to his table to shake his hand and welcome him to Connecticut. While he didn’t ask to see my wife’s ring, he cheerfully talked baseball with us for a while.

He didn’t have to, considering that we were not paying customers. But, like Snider, he was friendly beyond all expectation. For that, unlike Reggie, he’ll always have a fan.

Billy Joel's "Last Play at Shea" shows he's one of us

2011-02-13T20:20:00.007-05:00

There's a funny moment on Billy Joel's live CD recorded on the night 1999 turned to 2000.

“There's some classical shit in there,” Joel said at the conclusion of “The Ballad of Billy the Kid.” “Tried to cop a little Copland.”

I laugh because the line captures why Joel is the embodiment of New York, showing off its beauty and coarseness at the same time.

I remembered that line today as I played by “Last Play at Shea” DVD, a Christmas gift from my wife that arrived this week. I thought it was a concert DVD of the highlights of Joel's two gigs at Shea Stadium in 2008.

I was wrong. It's so much more.

There's plenty of music, for sure. But the documentary is better described as parallel biographies of the performer and the ballpark, and, by extension, the Mets. It's magnificent. I spent most of the afternoon all weepy.

People here in the Midwest don't get Billy Joel. I've seen him perform several times at the Palace of Auburn Hills, and the shows don't compare to the nights I've watched him at the Nassau Coliseum, one of which was captured on video.

The people watching in the shows in the Detroit suburbs enjoy the hit songs, but they don't come with the shared experiences as the man from Levittown. They can't picture the old hotel on the beach he's singing about in “This is the Time,” they think “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” could take place in a place like Olive Garden because they don't have places like Musicaro's here. They don't picture the fishing boats in “Downeaster 'Alexa'”

They don't get the Mets, either. These one-team cities don't understand how a person could totally embrace one team from your town and be repulsed by the other.

Watching “Last Play at Shea,” I was convinced that Joel was the perfect person to perform the grand stadium's final concerts.

His Mets loyalty has been questioned. He's mentioned the Yankees twice in songs, and there's the VHS of him performing at that place in the Bronx. But notice that they had to draw a picture of him wearing the Yankees cap, and he looks uncomfortable even in that. I suspect the label made him do it.

Because Joel whether he realizes it or not, has more in common with the Mets. Bruce Springsteen – not even a New Yorker, I might add – gets the love from the critics and the Super Bowl performances and the Oscars.

But Joel, as the documentary shows, is like the Mets in that Billy has had his ups and downs, and the ups are very up and the downs really suck. We can relate to that.

He's the boomer who came of age in the 1960s in “We Didn't Start the Fire,” the defensive guy in “My Life,” and the guy out of step with the trends in “It's Still Rock and Roll to Me.” We like orange and blue and giant apples, all right? The Mets are flawed, but we love them just the way they are.

The other team reeks of entitlement and thinks it will win the World Series every year. Billy said in the documentary that he's always surprised when one of his songs becomes a hit.

The movie has all kids of scenes of Shea beauty and magic, from the metal panels to the neon players, from 1969 to 1986.

It's got interviews with Tom and Sir Paul, the very best to perform in the building. And it's even got the best Mets blogger in there to pull it all together.

Sting is in there, too. He confesses he doesn't get the magic of Shea. But he was in “Dune,” too, so his judgment is questionable. Go play in the Bronx.

The film winds down with Paul McCartney trying to land at JFK and get to the concert in time and the Mets scrapping to hang on as the end of the 2008 season. Paul makes it, the Mets don't.

At the end of the concert we see Billy backstage, imploring Paul McCartney to come back for one more song, almost as if he doesn't want the night to end. Kind of how we all felt when we saw Cameron Maybin at the edge of the warning track waiting for Ryan Church's ball to land in his glove.

The documentary ends with time-lapse photography of Shea's demolition that builds a lump in the throat as the sections go down one at a time, each revealing more of Citi Field in the background.

But the cameras keep running right to the lights go on for Opening Night in 2009.

The new ballpark isn't Shea, but it's beautiful.

It's true, 'Tom Terrific' atop the Topps top 60

2011-02-06T21:07:00.021-05:00

It’s not a surprise which baseball player will be depicted on the card deemed the greatest in Topps’ 60 years.

Even baseball writers, a difficult lot for sure, recognized Tom Seaver’s importance to the card collecting hobby and the sport itself. They enshrined him into the Baseball Hall of Fame with 98.84 percent of the vote, the closest any inductee has come to unanimity.

But Seaver appeared on many Topps cards during his spectacular 19-year career, as well as in a bunch of sets after his retirement. But they can’t all be No. 1.

We can immediately eliminate Seaver cards from when he played for lesser teams. Those are important cards, to be sure. Some of them appeared further down in the countdown. But Seaver as a member of the Sox, white or red, or an Ohio-based team wouldn’t be the way people remember him best.

And we can rule out any of the cards from retro sets, or sets that exist as an excuse to mix in jersey slice insert cards. Neither seems to be in the spirit of the countdown.

Leader and All-Star cards are to be enjoyed, and neat subsets like the “In-Action,” “Boyhood” and “Turn Back the Clock” are fun. But the No. 1 spot needs to be held by a base card.

That leaves a fairly small pool of cards from which to select. Let’s examine the pros of each, as well as the cons, slight as they might be, to determine our Topps champion.

1967:
Pros: The Seaver rookie is a nice card, and certainly his most expensive. It's the starting point to the magnificent career and it must give Bill Denehy a thrill to be linked forever with Tom Terrific.

Con: Bill Denehy is linked forever with Tom Terrific. Bill went 1-7 with the Mets in 1967, had three appearances with the Senators in 1968 and 0-3 with the Tigers in 1971. On the bright side, the Mets traded him to the Sens for Gil Hodges! But a card with Bill Denehy can’t claim the top spot.

1968:
Pros: We get a great headshot of Tom, who is full of youthful confidence. There is, perhaps, a slight annoyance to his glance. Some teammates might not be realizing that this losing crap isn’t cutting it. They need to straighten up, and this kid is going to lead them. Plus, we get the All-Star Rookie trophy and a funky burlap card design. The write-up on the back is wonderful.

Con: I don’t get the burlap/baseball connection. It’s the only thing holding this card back.

1969:
Pros: It’s a baseball card and it has Tom Seaver’s photo and it was released in 1969. That’s all I got.

Cons: Topps got lazy. How can it use the same photo of one of the game’s best players two years in a row? The design is dull, and the backs are pink.

1970:
Pros: A nice headshot of Tom, with another minimalist – but classy – design. As card No. 300, it was probably released after the start of the season, with the photo taken in spring training. Seaver looks relaxed, at the top of his game. He’s the reigning Cy Young Award winner; he’s got a World Series ring. The adorable Nancy is waiting at home. It’s good to be Tom Seaver.

Cons: Tom looks a little too relaxed. While it is, indeed, good be Tom Seaver, we still want to see a little edge there.

1971:
Pros: We finally get a pose that doesn’t looks like a yearbook photo with a baseball cap. The set is a classic, and we get Tom’s facsimile autograph, too!

Con: The card was from 1971, which was, perhaps, Tom’s greatest season. He went 20-10 with 21 complete games, and I don’t know how he possibly lost those 10 games considering his ERA was a freakish 1.76. You’d think this would mean Tom’s second Cy Young. But no, he lost to a Cub who had an ERA that was a FULL RUN higher. It’s not the card’s fault, but I still get all upset.

1973
Pros: A magnificent Seaver card, with Tom in a spring training faux-action pose, glove held high as if he was staring in for the signs. It looks scary, and this is just spring training. Tom that season went 19-10 with microscopic 2.08 ERA. And unlike 1971, voters recognized that wins aren’t always the best indicator of success and gave Tom the Cy over Ron Bryant and his 24 Giant victories.

Cons: The 1973 set is beloved, and with good reason. But the design is just a little bit too stark for me to put it on top.

1974:
Pros: Lots of firsts here. Its Tom’s first main card action card, and his first horizontal base card. Tom has just unleashed a laser and we can see John Milner in the background. And the 1974 set is one of my favorites.

Cons: As nice as the action shot is, there are Mets with just iconic cards in this set. The McGraw and the Harrelson are amazing portraits; the honked-off Rusty is great. Heck, they’re almost all great. If the Tom card isn’t the best on the team, it can’t be the best of all time.

1975:
Pros: I sent this card to Seaver when I was 11. I had doubles and thought he’d like to have a copy of his own card. It never occurred to me that he might already have one. I sent him a poem I composed – eat your heart out, Robert Frost – and asked for an autographed photo. Before long, an envelope came from New York National League Baseball Club, containing my autographed photo and the card I sent Tom, and it was signed, too. (Note the signature on the card above.)

Cons: This is a neat portrait of Tom leaning on the batting cage – there’s really not another Tom card like it – but his face is almost all in the shadows. Clearly this was meant to symbolize the previous season, when an injured Tom limped to an un-Seaverly 11-11. And because I tried to copy Seaver in every way, I spent half the summer complaining that I had injured the sciatic nerve in my left hip.

1976:
Pros: This card already checked in the top 60 at No. 41. Tom is in a classic spring training, baseball card pose. There might not even be a ball in his hand, but he’s probably not going to fire a pitch from the on-deck circle anyway. I remember pulling this card in the very first pack of cards I opened that year, and decided that I’d never have to buy another until 1977. That rule lasted maybe a day.

Cons: Having already checked in at No. 41, it can’t be in the running for the No. 1 card.

1977:
Pros: A terrific card. It’s very possibly Topps’ best Seaver action card. Any Mets fan would recognize that classic delivery and know that it’s Tom from a mile away. It’s an awesome design, and the colors are perfect. In fact, the entire card is nearly perfect.

Cons: Perfect, unless you count the blunt trauma caused by the June 15 midnight massacre that I’m still not even close to being over yet. I’m working on not overtly hating M. Donald Grant with an eye on eventually forgiving them. It’s a 40-year plan. We’re in the first week. Patience. Dick Young, you get no such forgiveness.

1983 traded
Pros: Tom’s exile is over, and that alone is a glorious thing. The design calls for two photos, an action shot and headshot for the inset. It’s a nice design, the colors are right, and Tom is back.

Cons: Despite all the potential glory here, the card just seems to be a little, well, lacking. The inset shot is better than the action shot. In fact, Topps used the headshot for subset cards and leader cards. The action shot is a bit dark and doesn’t look like Tom. We can’t see the team name or his No. 41. Overall, it looks like the kind of card Ray Searage would get, not the homecoming of the franchise hero.

1984
Pros: The 1984 card is every bit the celebration of Tom’s triumphant return that the 1983 card could have been. Seaver’s at home in the Mets pinstripes. And the bunting in the background reveals that the photo was, in fact, from April 5, 1983, the emotional Opening Day. Even the racing stripes, making their debut that day, look great. The design is fantastic, too, with the team name boldly running down the side, leading to a headshot. It is a fantastic reminder of Tom second tour.

Cons: There is but one slight fault. The card came out as part of the 1984 set, after Tom was swiped by the White Sox in the infamous Dennis Lamp Incident, and we’re not all the way over that, either. It’s a reminder of what we lost, again.

That would leave:

1972
Pros: There is much to love about this card. After several years of pretty tame designs, Topps got bolder with the 1971 set then embraced all that was the 1970s with the epic 1972 issue. It’s as if the stogy old guys in the design office were out for a week and the young upstarts took over. It’s a cross between art deco and Warhol pop art. It perfectly captures the time period.

Then you have the photo. Tom’s in his pinstripes and blue warm-up jacket. He’s pretending to be following through on a throw. But look at the eyes. The edge is back. Andy Pettitte only wishes he could look as imposing.

The shot is obviously from spring training, given the background with the distant palm trees and coach on one knee issuing instructions. Given that this is card No. 445, we can presume that the photo was taken that year.

The card back tells of the Cy Young injustice of 1971, and mentions Tom’s homer on June 24 to beat the Expos, 2-1. The h in “homered” is for some reason capitalized, but we can overlook that. The little cartoon tells us that Nelson Burbank as the scout who signed Seaver, giving me a reason to look for his photo in the yearbook.
And in a personal level, this was the first Tom Seaver card I ever possessed. It came in a trade with Jeff, parting with two Yankees to obtain the printed image of the hero.

Cons: None. This is perfection on cardboard. It’s a 2.5-inch by 3.5-inch reminder of all that is good in life. The design, the photo and the informational back perfectly capture the player and the era.

It is, without a doubt, the best card Topps has produced in its 60 years.

Topps countdown at No. 2 with 1970 card No. 1 and a miracle

2011-01-30T19:20:00.011-05:00

The real miracle of the 1969 Miracle Mets, in my mind, isn’t that the team won the World Series.

It’s the relative ease by which the team dispatched both the slugging Atlanta Braves in the playoffs and then the mighty Baltimore Orioles in the Series.

Keep in mind; the Mets were a 100-to-1 shot to win the World Series before the start of the season. And despite the growing collection of young talent and able vets, the team had not yet to post a winning record.

Topps showed the team the love it deserved with the spectacular card No. 1 in the 1970 set, the team photo with World Champions above the players.

The photo itself is a little odd. It’s in the Shea outfield, but shot slightly from the side, with most of the players looking to the center, where there must have been another photographer. Why not use the official photo? And check out the ball and glove on the ground in the middle, between Rube Walker and Yogi Berra. Someone was getting a little artsy.

Topps did a nice job with both of the postseason subsets, too. The key moments were captured, and there are two celebration cards.

Not that Braves fans have anything to remember their team’s appearance in the playoffs. Topps used a great photo of Tom Seaver for Game 1, Ken Boswell approaching home after his two-run blast for Game 2 and highlighted Nolan Ryan’s relief appearance for the Game 3 card. The celebration card – with “We’re number one!” shows Wayne Garrett, Ryan, Tommie Agee and, I think, Tug McGraw, just out of the shower.

The Mets were a team built around pitching, but the team scored a whopping 27 runs in the three-game sweep. Braves fans certainly can’t fault Hank Aaron, who launched three two-run homers in the series.

The opposition does make an appearance in the World Series subset. The Game 1 card shows Don Buford heading back to the dugout after the home run he smacked off Seaver to start the game.

But, as Terry Cashman croons, “they made a believer of Mr. Earl Weaver in four games straight.”

The Game 2 card shows Donn Clendenon crossing home after his fourth-inning home run. Game 3’s card appropriately shows off Tommie Agee, depicting the first of his two spectacular catches.

Game 4 shows J.C. Martin’s controversial bunt that pushed across the winning run in the tenth inning. Personally, I’d rather have a horizontal card of Ron Swoboda’s dive, but I can’t complain.

The Game 5 card shows Jerry Koosman “shutting the door,” but that game had enough heroes and highlights that it could have filled a subset of its own, with Cleon Jones’ shoe, Al Weis’ only Shea homer or the big hits from Swoboda and Clendenon.

The “World Series Celebration” card – with “Mets whoop it up” as the caption – is an epic to itself. It’s a scene of clubhouse chaos. Note that Ed Charles still looks stunned that the team pulled it off, holding up an “Amazing Mets” album that came out earlier in the summer. Ed Kranepool and Tug McGraw look gleeful, and I can’t figure out which Met is mugging for the camera in the foreground. Jerry Grote or Swoboda, perhaps? But look behind Charles, as a group of stern looking reporters are interviewing someone off camera.

The whole subset is the highlight on one of Topps’ best sets, but it didn’t get much better that card No. 1.

Topps top 60, No. 3: Magical Mookie Wilson

2011-01-16T20:46:00.002-05:00

No. 3, 1985 Mookie Wilson

Just try it. Think about Mookie Wilson and not smile.

Oh, sure. Bob Stanley and Bill Buckner might grimace a little.

But everyone else sure seems to have fond memories of the fleet centerfielder with the mega-watt grin.

Even the nickname bestowed on William Heyward Wilson by his grandmother kind of forces the mouth into a smile just by saying it.

Mookie arrived in 1980 when the Mets were still in what Glenn Close called “the quiet years” in the video. It’s only fitting that he was not only still there for the championship, but will be forever linked with its most famous moment.

Every Mets fan knows this by heart. Game Six, tenth inning, Mets down a run. Bob Costas in the Sox clubhouse, Jean Yawkey already fingering the World Series trophy.
After fouling off three pitches, Stanley threw a wild one that Mookie was able to avoid, bringing Kevin Mitchell home with the tying run.

After fouling back several more, Mookie slapped one up the first base line, where it magically got through Buckner’s legs, bringing home Ray Knight.

Get off Buckner’s case. Even if he had come up with the ball, Stanley wasn’t close enough to first to make the play and Mookie’s speed would have placed him there first anyway.

That’s because there’s magic in Mookie, and that at-bat couldn’t have happened to any other player.

He left the team in 1989 in a trade for Jeff Musselman, but Mookie still is ranked second in steals and triples, fourth in at-bats, sixth in games, hits and runs and 10th in doubles.

Here’s how unassuming Mookie Wilson is. He has a commercial drivers’ license because he thought he’d be a truck driver after retiring.

Not a chance. He’s been with the Mets most of the time since, and this year he’ll be back in uniform as the first base coach.

There are many great Mets cards in the 1985 set. The Mookie, which shows him flashing that famous grin, is my favorite.

Say hey! The Topps countdown hits No. 4 with Willie Mays

2011-01-12T21:06:00.003-05:00

Willie Mays, I submit, is the best all-around baseball player of all time.

His career numbers already are staggering. Now consider that he lost most of 1952 and all of 1953 to military service.

Also consider that his first home ballpark had a centerfield that was so deep it was practically in another borough.

Consider again that his second home ballpark was known for its brutal weather for night games, certain to sap the life out of potential home runs.
Consider, once more, that the staggering statistics were compiled in an era known to be dominated by pitchers.

It’s very easy to argue that had any of those factors been different, Willie Mays’ homecoming to New York in 1972 is a march to home run No. 700 or even beyond.

Imagine Henry Aaron and Willie Mays both chasing down the Bambino in 1973.

Of course, the ways things actually played out was pretty spectacular, too.
Willie arrived home as a beloved elder statesman – thank you, Mrs. Payson – and hit a home run in his first game.

The following year he was picked for the All-Star team as a reserve, and helped guide the upstart believers all the way to the World Series, where he hit .286.
And, on the night he announced his retirement, he delivered the best-known farewell speech of any player not known to be dying.

“I look at the kids over here, the way they’re playing, the way they’re fighting for themselves, and it tells me one thing: Willie, say good bye to America.”

The Mets have kept Mays’ No. 24 out of circulation save for a brief accident and the short tenure of a future Hall-of-Famer. The team needs to go the extra step and place it on the outfield wall alongside Casey, Gil, Tom and Jackie. The best player ever to wear a major league uniform wore the Mets’ blue and orange. We should be proud that.

Mays appears on just two main set Topps cards. He’s part of a World Series subset in the 1974 issue. But I prefer the 1973 card.

Willie’s in a classic batting pose at Shea. He still has arms as thick of tree trunks. Willie’s older, to be sure. But he till looks mighty. And, best of all, he’s a Met.

Pause the Topps countdown to salute the newest Met in the Hall of Fame, Roberto Alomar

2011-01-05T22:25:00.004-05:00

We need to take yet another sidebar into our Topps top 60 countdown to recognize that yet another former Mets player being inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Second baseman Roberto Alomar was named on 90 percent of the ballots to earn his spot among the immortals and undeserving Yankees.

Now there are going to be some people who will look at Alomar’s year and a half with the Mets and suggest that perhaps they weren’t the best in Roberto’s career.

These people point to things like his batting average for that time -- .266 and .262 –and note that the numbers are slightly below his career .300 average.

Being a Mets-cup-half-full kind of guy, I note that those averages are far better than the .180 he posted with the White Sox for part of 2004.

Roberto does not have a ton of Topps cards in his Mets uniform, but there are two that jump to mind.

The card from the 2003 base set shows Roberto in an action shot, looking great in his home pinstripes watching one of those 157 hits rocket into the field. Beautiful.

The other is the Heritage card from the same year, mimicking the outstanding 1954 set with both an action shot and head shot.

I couldn’t help but add two cards from other companies’ sets.

The Studio cards were usually beautiful, and there’s no disputing the grandeur of Roberto, bat on shoulders, in front of Shea Stadium’s neon players. Face it: No other stadium would look as good.

The other, from an Upper Deck set, loses points for the silver foil. But check out the photo. Alomar is so delighted to be a Met – giddy, in fact – that he has to check the logo on his cap to remind himself of just how glorious it is to be a part of the team. And can you blame him?

Did you know there are more Mets in the Hall than True Yankees? As Casey used to say, you can look it up!

Mets: Alomar, Tom Seaver, Willie Mays, Gary Carter, Nolan Ryan, Eddie Murray, Warren Spahn, Duke Snider Ritchie Ashburn, Rickey Henderson and Yogi Berra. From the front office we have George Weiss and Whitey Herzog. And, of course, Casey Stengel.

Now, True Yankees: Ruth, Gehrig, Berra. Possibly Casey.

Hey, don’t blame me because the Mets are inclusive and embrace all their players, and the Yankee fans limit their love to guys who earn their pinstripes through real or imagined Yankee glory.

To come up with this list, I looked at the Yankees who somehow got added to the Hall and subtracted the known cheaters (Whitey Ford), shameful booze hounds (Mantle), overrated (DiMaggio), people who bang my prized Hall of Fame ball on the table at card shows (Reggie), guys the owner tried to smear (Winfield), guys better known as Mets (Henderson), guys so ashamed of being Yankees that they left their Hall plaque cap blank (Hunter), guys added by the Veterans Committee decades after their playing career ended (Rizzutto, Lazzeri, Gordon) and so on.

Somehow John Franco was allowed to fall off the ballot this year, a scandal. But soon we'll be celebrating Mike Piazza's well-earned enshrinement.

Topps all-time countdown continues with Jose Reyes, swiping spot No. 5

2011-01-01T21:54:00.003-05:00

No. 5, 2010 Jose Reyes

Is there a player on the Mets who will be watched more closely in 2011 than Jose Reyes?

When Reyes is at his healthy best, he’s the most exciting player in the game. And spacious Citi Field is practically designed to allow players with speed like Reyes to run wild.

Jose already is the team’s all-time leader in stolen bases, with his 331 swipes are way ahead of Mookie Wilson’s 281.

But look at the triples. Reyes has 83. Mookie has 62. The player in third place has 45, a little more than half of Reyes’ total. That player, by the way, is Bud Harrelson, and I wouldn’t have guessed that.

But the nearest active player is Angel Pagan with 19, or No. 13 on the all-time list. Now, that speaks highly of Angel, who has only been on the team for parts of three seasons. But it also means that Reyes is putting that record out of reach.

As the Mets debate whether to trade Reyes in is walk year or lock him up in a long-term deal, Sandy Alderson is going to be looking for more scenes like the one depicted on Reyes’ 2010 card.

Jose has just slid head first into third base. A bewildered Marlin is looking in vain to see if he got the call. But he knows the result. The umpire is making it clear for everyone else in the stadium.

Given the distance from the action and the number of people in the shot, the card recalls the glories of the 1971 set. Though a true '71 action classic would have included two more players, the third base coach and possibly a hot dog vendor.

About the only thing marring the scene is the awful Citi Field inaugural season patch. But we can live with that.

Topps all-time top 60 card No. 6, Doc Gooden and the 'Streak of Shame'

2010-12-20T23:23:00.005-05:00

Dwight Gooden is blessed to have numerous outstanding Topps cards, but there are two that are particularly special, for different reasons.

First is the 1986 base set card, with a photo from the 1985 season when Gooden compiled what can only be described as one of the best pitching performances ever by a Met, going 24-4 with a 1.53 ERA, 16 complete games and eight shutouts.

This was Gooden when he was all magic and potential, focused and raring back.

But I’m favoring a 1992 Stadium Club card, and Doc isn’t even pitching. He’s rounding third base, about the score the Mets’ eighth run. It’s the bottom of the third, 3:02 p.m. and sweltering hot.

The time and the score are evident from the photo, but I know first-hand about the heat. Will and I were there, watching that game from the Shea press box.

The Mets eventually won that game 9-4, beating the Dodgers and former 1986 Mets heroes Darryl Strawberry and Bob Ojeda.

It would be the last time I’d see the Mets win in person for 17 years, a streak of shame that lasted until an incredible afternoon at Great American Ballpark in Cincinnati in 2008.

For a long time, that Stadium Club was more than a great, non-traditional action shot. With my press pass, it was a reminder of an incredible day at Shea – and the last time I thought I’d see the team win a game.

A great injustice on display with the No. 7 Topps card of all time

2010-12-13T23:22:00.002-05:00

It’s a remarkable rookie card to be sure.

One of the two players is in the discussion as the second-best Mets pitcher. The other guy was traded for an accordion player.

And check this out. Between the two pitchers on this card, there are 546 wins, 8,270 strikeouts, seven no-hitters – and not a single Cy Young Award. How is that even possible?

One of them joins Tom Seaver with a beautiful plaque in the Hall of Fame -- the one in Queens. The other is in Cooperstown with Tom, but he’s wearing the wrong cap.

In all seriousness, the gulf between Jerry Koosman and Nolan Ryan isn’t that great. Ryan’s career winning percentage is .526, Koosman’s is .515, and pitched for some far worse teams, I might add. Ryan’s ERA is 3.19, Koosman’s is 3.36.

Koosman got just four votes when he was on the Hall ballot in 1991, and Ryan somehow got 98.79 percent of the ballots in his first year, and even swiped what was rightfully Tom Seaver’s slot on the All-Century Team.

Let’s look at the post-season. Koosman is 4-0, including two wins in the World Series, even taking a no-hitter into the seventh inning. Ryan is 2-2, and his only World Series appearance is 2.3 innings of Agee-aided relief.

One more cool Koosman fact: He was discovered by the son of a Shea Stadium usher who caught Koosman when he pitched in the Army at Fort Bliss Texas, he had written to his dad about Koosman. The Mets offered Koosman a contract after his discharge.

So, yeah, Jerry Koosman’s rookie card is pretty special, the seventh-best Topps card of all time. Nolan Ryan is on it, too.

Topps top 60 countdown at No. 8, Bobby Bonilla before things went bad

2010-12-12T20:42:00.003-05:00

It wasn't entirely his fault.

OK, the card-playing in the clubhouse with Rickey during Game Six was horrible. In fact, all of 1999 was horrible.

But I'm talking about Bobby Bonilla's first go-around with the Mets. which ran from 1992 to part of 1995. The Mets put him into a role -- as "the Man" on a high-profile team -- that Bonilla just wasn't suited for.

The Mets, of course, have a history a doing this type of thing, chasing the biggest free-agent of the off-season because the player is, in fact, the biggest free agent of the off-season, appeasing the media beast that will never give its approval no matter what the team does.

Fresh off Bonilla's success with the Pirates, where he was surrounded by Barry Bonds and other stars, the Mets threw at him a 5-year, $29 million deal and anointed him the star on which the team would build upon.

He certainly wasn't terrible. Bonilla hit 34 homers in 1993, and hit .290 the following season. But those just aren't the numbers required to be a mega-star in New York. Fans were disappointed and Bobby Bo became Bobby Boo, which was just blood in the water for Met-hating Yankee hacks like Bob Klapisch, who egged Bonilla into a much-publicized confrontation. Bonilla told Klap he could "show him the Bronx," and I don't think he meant an afternoon at the Cloisters and the Bronx Zoo. As if a Yankee hack like Klap didn't know the Bronx.

Cast out of the New York spotlight, Bonilla actually mounted a resurrection in Baltimore in 1996 and with the Marlins the next season, earning a World Series ring.
He was traded to the Dodgers in the fire sale of 1998, part of the mega-package that included Gary Sheffield and brought Mike Piazza to the Fish for a five-game layover before his ascension to the Mets.

And Bonilla came back, too, in a swap of bad contracts and players needing a scenery change, with the Mets booting Mel Rojas to the Dodgers.

Mets 2.0 was a disaster, with Bonilla becoming bummed about playing time, feuding with Bobby Valentine and, apparently, forming a card-playing malcontents club with Henderson.

Alas, Bonilla did get one really great baseball card. I love his 1993 card with the magnificent New York skyline rising in the background and Bobby flashing a confident smile.

Topps top 60 countown: Ed Kranepool, after all these years

2010-12-06T23:43:00.004-05:00

No. 9, 1972 Ed Kranepool

Do you think that when Ed Kranepool was picked by the Mets in the 1962 amateur daft that he ever imagined he’d still be atop the team’s leader boards 31 years after retiring?

Sure playing 18 seasons with one team will do that. But if the New York media will go nuts just because Derek Jeter accumulates enough at-bats to pass a dead Yankee or two, well, we can celebrate our Steady Eddie.

Kranepool’s played 1,853 games in a Mets uniform – and only a Mets uniform. He’s got a 500-plus game lead on Bud Harrelson, and 800 games on David Wright, the closest active player.

He’s also atop the rankings for at-bats, plate appearances, hits, total bases, singles, times on base, and sacrifice flies. Wright only recently passed him on the doubles list.

Eddie’s also the leader in times grounded into double plays. But look, he did it 138 times. Mike Piazza is second with 132, and he played 10 fewer seasons for the team.
He wasn’t too bad with the glove, either, leading the league in fielding percentage in 1971 and 1975.

Kranepool was even a Met before Mr. Met came along – the mascot arrived in printed form in 1963, a year after Eddie.

With so man chances, Topps did well by Kranepool on numerous occasions. The 1980 farewell card is in the top 60, and the 1964 and 1970 cards are pretty sweet, too.

But my favorite is the 1972 card. It is, well, perfect. The design is legendary, of course. But the photo is magnificent. Eddie is leaning on the batting cage, bat resting shoulder, confident and friendly smile.

Likely shot in 1971 – though with Topps, you never know – we have a mid-career Eddie who remembers Casey and the Polo Grounds, was an All-Star in ’65, likely celebrated the arrival of Seaver and, despite being all of 24, was a veteran when the team won a World Series, even hitting a home run in Game 3.

It was, most definitely, good to be Ed Kranepool. And this card shows it.

Countdown of top Topps cards continues with No. 10 and Mike Piazza

2010-12-05T10:36:00.006-05:00

The top 10 cards in the top Topps cards of all time require special consideration, so we're going to address them one at a time, starting with:

No. 10, 2003 Mike Piazza

There are quite possibly more cards of Mike Piazza than there are of any other Met. And most of them are pretty bland.

That’s not Piazza’s fault. His Mets tenure happened to coincide with card companies pandering to investment types, and issued dozens of small sets filled with insert, or “chase,” cards that were supposedly would fund everyone’s retirement.

The sets were typically around 90 cards, though there could be two or three times that number of inserts. If limited to 90 cards, the companies included only two or three players from each team, usually the biggest stars and rookies.

Since all the attention was on the inserts, it seemed to me that the base cards were treated an afterthought, with just about any old photo slapped on there.

Since Piazza was the biggest name on the Mets, he was included in just about every set.

Not that he wasn’t worthy, of course. A debate over who is the team’s best non-pitcher would likely come down to Piazza and Darryl Strawberry. Straw didn’t seem to match his potential, but Piazza was everything we had hoped for when he arrived in 1998.

He certainly was the most feared by opponents, especially Roger Clemens, who sought to injure Piazza with both ball and broken bat.

Seems like most Piazza cards show him batting, but I think his 2003 card from the main Topps set is his best.

The design recalls the outstanding 1983 and 1984 sets with the small headshot in the corner and a large action photo. The blue border works perfect for the Mets’ colors, and the shot shows Mike out of the crouch and chasing a ball, with a look of determination.

I like the 2004 card, too, showing Piazza being mobbed at home plate after a big hit surrounded by teammates and coaches, seeking fist-bumps and high-fives. Don Baylor, a coach at the time, makes what is likely his only appearance on a regular-set Mets card.

Piazza caught the last pitch at Shea and the first pitch at Citi Field, and the Mets haven't issued his No. 31 since his departure. I'm speculating that means he'll be joining his batterymate on those two occasions among the retired numbers on the left field wall after he joins him in Cooperstown.

Quirky players and quirky sets in countdown of Topps top 60 cards

2010-11-27T23:34:00.016-05:00

Moving into the top 20 of the Topps greatest 60 cards of all time, we're encountering some of the game's great characters -- and the company's greatest sets.

No. 20, 1974 George Theodore

Can you imagine if George Theodore had been a Yankee? They’d have sucked the color from him like a vampire. But as a member of the Mets, he’s a legend despite just two part-time seasons where he demonstrated no significant prowess. But he was wonderfully quirky, with his gangly physique that earned him the nickname “The Stork,” and spouting quotes like, “I've been trying transcendental meditation, and that helps me be passive and wait on the curve. I've got to find something else to hit the slider." He’s likely the only Met with Basil for a middle name, and to come from Utah, where he is enshrined in the state’s Sports Hall of Fame. And he’s just as famous for his horrific outfield collision with Don Hahn in 1973, just another odd aspect of that incredible season. And one of the best things about the spectacular 1974 set is that in includes a card of Theodore, with legendary cartoon on the back proclaiming that George like marshmallow milkshakes.

No. 19, 1971 Bud Harrelson

Speaking of quirky, the 1971 shot is one of Topps’ best – and most unusual. The company started to use more action photos, but it seemed like a bunch of them were taken from the stands. Buddy Harrelson’s horizontal beauty is a classic example. There are four players in the photo and one umpire. We’re assuming that Buddy is the one placing the tag on the apparent Astro since he’s a shortstop. The second baseman, whom I believe to be Ken Boswell, is running to back up the throw, and it looks like Nolan Ryan is quietly pumping his fist in celebration. These days, Topps would likely crop in tight on Buddy and the Astro and PhotoShop out Boswell and it just wouldn’t be as fun.

No. 18, a tie between 1974 Bud Harrelson and 1974 Tug McGraw

Yeah, I’m cheating a little here. But these cards go together like Jose Reyes and triples, Endy Chavez and amazing catches and Oliver Perez and stink.

Both are great portraits, and not the kind usually associated with baseball cards. Topps sets for most of the 1960s were littered with Big Head, No Hat shots, and most looked like mug shots.

Buddy’s capless, but it seems intended to show off his ‘do. And Tug’s wearing his cap, but it looks like he’s having a nice conversation with fans. Had this been in the 1971 set, we’d have seen the fans he was talking to, plus a dozen more in the section, two vendors and half of Flushing Meadows Park.

Buddy gets points for coming back to the Mets as coach, then a brief tenure at the helm before being the face of Long Island minor league baseball with the Ducks.

No. 17, 2008 Johan Santana

This Santana shot is more typical of the modern Topps action shot. A little better, actually because it’s incredibly crisp, and the colors all just work together beautifully. Johan has an unusual motion, on display here, and this must be what a batter sees. And look how clearly Santana signs his name! He’s an ace is all aspects of the game.

No. 16 2009 Heritage Carlos Delgado

I was torn between two Delgado cards. The 2008 Heritage set uses the 1959 set, and it’s pretty perfect, with the headshot in the circle showing Carlos with a nice smile. But the 2009 card is equally perfect, using the 1960 card as the template. This time we get a menacing Carlos posing in his stance. That must have been the look Yankee pitchers got on July 27, 2008 when he hit a grand slam and recorded a team record 9 rbis, part of a glorious 15-6 rout at that ugly ballpark in the Bronx. Many Yankee fans wept that day. The card shows him wearing the Shea Stadium patch from that year, and that blue cap just looks beautiful.

No. 15, 1993 Todd Hundley

Remember when Hundley was our best player? He broke the record for most home runs in a season by a catcher, and the Mets’ season record, too. Javy Lopez broke the catchers record and Carlos Beltran tied the Mets mark. Some people note the Todd was mentioned in the Mitchell Report. But Mets don’t do steroids. Hundley was pushed aside when Mike Piazza came, and there is certainly no shame in that. His attempt to move to leftfield was laudable, though not successful. I like this card for a couple reasons. First, there is the trophy for being named to the Topps All-Star Rookie team. Then, this is a great action shot. It looks like Todd chased an errant throw back behind the plate and is getting ready to rocket the ball back. But I do notice that he’s wearing a batting practice jersey, so it could be a spring game, or he’s faking an action shot. But Mets don’t fake action shots.

No. 14, 1989 Darryl Strawberry

Speaking of fallen heroes, I was torn between two Darryl cards. His 1985 card is fantastic, as crisp as a Topps base set photograph can get. It shows Straw after a mighty swing, looking to survey the damage before breaking into his run. All the elements work – the uniform, the card design, and the background. I went with the 1989 card instead, which also has a great design, with his beautiful home uniform working with the card colors. This photo isn’t quite as crisp, but shows Straw early in his swing with the leg up high and hands back and low, eyes intently focused on the incoming pitch before he launches.

No. 13, 2001 Heritage Edgardo Alfonzo

Topps has done a nice job with its Heritage cards, and this one calls back to the 1952 set. Fonzie seems like the guy the Mets seemed to take for granted. He was an undrafted free agent, and worked his way up through the system and was moved around the infield in his first year. He was outstanding at third, moved to second when the team landed Robin Ventura and then headed back when Roberto Alomar came around. His run in the 1999 playoffs was epic. His leadoff home run was all Al Leiter needed in the tie-breaker against the Reds, and he lead off the first game against the Diamondbacks with a home run off Randy Johnson and smacked a grand slam in the ninth to break a tie.

No. 12, 1992 Stadium Club Howard Johnson

HoJo’s apparently lost his job as Mets hitting coach, but tutoring batters isn’t going to be his claim to fame anyway. My favorite HoJo story involves his comeback attempt during the 1997 spring training. It became apparent that the magic was gone, but Bobby Valentine kept him around all spring and giving him at bats. Why? Each time he was greeted with a standing ovation. HoJo played with the Rockies and Cubs after departing from the Mets in 1994, and the spring turned out to be a curtain call for the fans to say thanks for the late 1980s and early 1990s. This Stadium Club card is a great portrait.

No. 11, 1964 Casey Stengel

Topps used a nearly exact photo for the 1965 set, both cards are wonderful. “The Ole Professor” is holding court on the dugout steps, and I imagine it’s the Polo Grounds since the steps don’t look brand new. Holding court was what Casey did best in those years, since we know he was fond of napping during games and turning things over to the coaches.

Next we’ll move into the top 10, which is difficult since I have about 15 cards I wanted to cram in there.

Thanksgiving is a time to pause to give thanks -- and confront turkeys

2010-11-25T23:15:00.009-05:00

I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving!

I’m blessed. I know it. I appreciate it. And every year I remember to pause on this day – and on most others, to be sure – to take a moment and reflect on all the good things going on amidst the challenges we all face.

Some of those challenges are identified here as turkeys, and maybe this constructive criticism will lead them back onto the proper path.

Certainly I can never express enough thanks for my family, who stick by me and encourage me – and guide me back on the proper path when I go astray. Some of us are separated by a considerable numbers miles, but we’re only a phone call or e-mail – or Words With Friends app turn – away.

I’m thankful for my job. I don’t take this for granted anymore. I’ve been able to survive several rounds of cuts and can continue to do the job I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a kid, a job that I think allows me to meet new people and experience wonderful things and some not-so-wonderful things and, on a day when everything goes right, to make a difference to some people in some places.

Turkeys: Big league managers and coaches, who, for reasons unexplained, voted to give Derek F. Jeter a Gold Glove as the American League’s best shortstop. I’ve made my peace with Jeter after the epic booing I bestowed upon him at U.S. Cellular Field. So the beef here is with the voters who clearly must have forgotten that the role of the shortstop is to actually get to the ball, catch it and throw it to first base, not watch as it skips all the way to the left fielder while basking in the glow of undeserved praise.

I’m thankful for my buddy Will, who this year realized that we’ve known each other 20 years. He’s been by my side through thick and thin, and knows when to have my back and to get on my case. Our baseball adventures account for many of the tales on this blog, all of them true and most of which we could never have imagined. Thanks, man!

Turkey! I spent a wonderful Thanksgiving with my in-laws. But Francisco Rodriguez probably did not. Punching the father of your children’s mother – technically not an in-law, I know – after a bad game is not a good thing to do unless you are actually trying to bring shame to your team and send the Yankee hacks into a frenzy.

I’m thankful for my awesome coed softball team! After several years of come close, and hoisting some nice consolation round trophies, we finally took a league championship! I confess there were moments of doubt, as we only won a game or two during the regular season. But everything came together for the playoffs, as we started hitting and fielding like champs. As the coach, I was a wreck during the final game, where we dispatched our rivals with a tidy 7-1 victory!

Turkey! Ian O’Connor of ESPN New York is a Jeter-loving Yankee hack of the highest order, even penning a glowing book about Mr. Intangibles while supposedly objectively covering him. He also wrote a crazy column allowing Reggie Jackson to spout off about how if Andy Pettitte beat Cliff Lee in an ALCS game, he’d punch his ticket for Cooperstown (despite his 3.80 ERA and steroid confession.) But the column that earned O’Conner his turkey designation came in April when he asked Johan Santana if he regretted signing with the Mets. When O’Connor didn’t get the answer he wanted, he wrote what he claimed Santana really thought and would have said had he been injected with truth serum.

I’m thankful for R.A. Dickey and Mike Pelfrey (Start and end of season). I sheepishly reveal that I was not excited when Omar announced that he signed the 30-plus knuckleballer. But he sure became the Mets’ feel-good story of the year as he went on to finish 11-9 and a 2.84 ERA. And he would have enjoyed Mets immortality with our first and only no-hitter had bleeping Cole Hamels not got that little chip shot to fall in. Pelfrey was so fun to watch early on, absolutely dominating in so many starts. We all thought he’d get 20 wins for sure.

Turkey: Mike Pelfrey, middle of the season. Whatever Big Pelf figured out in the beginning of the season, he somehow forgot it by the All-Star break. He did seem to get things back together by the end of the year, finishing with a still-impressive 15-9 record.

I’m thankful for my awesome students at both Cornerstone University and Kuyper College. Each year I teach, I think that I’ll never get such cool kids again. Yet each year I find there are more wonderful students eager to learn about being a reporter. Watching them improve through the semester is almost as fun as a big front page story that gets everyone riled up. And sometimes we go on field trips.

Turkey: Puerto Rico. I went to Puerto Rico in 2005. We walked around Old San Juan, toured the historic fort, and found some really special handmade Christmas ornaments that remind me of our time there. If only the Mets had visited the fort instead of playing the Marlins when they visited San Juan in late June. Riding high when they arrived, the team proceeded to fall apart, losing the opener 10-3, and then giving away the second game after a late rally. The team won the final game, but Jose Reyes got hurt, everyone else got the flu, Frenchy apparently spent way to long in the casinos, and some of the families got into a fight in the stands. The promising season spiraled out of control, and everyone seems to think the visit to Estadio Hiram Bithorn was the turning point.

I hope this holiday finds you happy and healthy and in appreciation of the blessings the Lord has given us. Even in the toughest of years on and off the field, may we never forget what is special about our lives, and the people we get to share them with.

Counting down the Topps All-Time Top 60 with numerical issues

2010-11-23T09:22:00.014-05:00

After some detours and debates, we’re back to counting down the top 60 Topps baseball cards of all time, and it again looks like the company has smiled upon the Mets with cardboard quality.

No. 30 1994 Stadium Club Ryan Thompson
Thompson looked the part. The centerfield prospect was a big part of the 1992 mid-season deal that sent David Cone to the Blue Jays. The Mets also got a red ass second baseman named Jeff Kent who did not then appear to be the potential Hall of Famer he would be come. Thompson got the slugger’s number of 44 and was intended to be the new Darryl. Alas, it was not to be. Thompson’s best year was 1994, when he hit 18 homers but hit just .225. The Mets gave up on him in 1996, sending him with Reid Cornelius to the Indians for Mark Clark. Thompson bounced between the minors and majors for several years after that, even getting a ring with the vile Yankees in 2000. His 1994 Stadium Club card showed he sure knew how to pose.

No. 29, 1987 David Cone
Speaking of Cone, his 1987 card in the traded set is a classic. And when anyone complains about the Nolan Ryan trade, the balance came in spring 1987 when he came with Chris Jelic to the Royals for Rick Anderson, Goose Gozzo and Ed Hearn. The following year Cone set the league on fire, going an incredible 20-3 with a 2.22 ERA. He was hosed in the Cy Young voting. It’s one thing to fall behind Orel Hersheiser in his magical year. But Cone finished in third behind Danny Jackson, who had three more wins but five more losses and an ERA a half-run higher. The card shows his compact delivery, one of several Cone could throw at batters to keep them off balance – which helped him strike out 19 batters in one game. Cone attended University of Missouri for a bit, and even planned to attend the School of Journalism. Had he stayed in school, we would have been classmates.

No. 28, 1974 Rusty Staub
Rusty came to the Mets in 1972, but didn’t appear in the 1972 and 1973 Topps sets. But his Mets debut – like much of the 1974 set -- is a classic. Clearly the umpire has just made the egregious mistake of calling a strike, and Rusty is implying that perhaps the man in blue is mistaken. Based on the folks in the stands in the background, I’m guessing the photo was taken on Helmet Day.

No. 27, 1981 Lee Mazzilli
I confess that I did not know that Mazzilli, one of the only stars the Mets had in the late 1970s and early 80s, held or shared seven speed skating championships. That explains the skin-tight uniform. Nor did I know that he set a league record – possibly the professional record – for stealing seven bases in a game while playing for Visalia in the California League. I remember how unhappy the Brooklyn native was about being traded to the Rangers, but the deal brought Ron Darling and eventually Howard Johnson. How nice was it to see Lee return for the end of the 1986 season and hit .400 in the World Series?

No. 26, 1969 Cleon Jones
Cleon looks great in this card, and in 1969 he certainly was. His .340 average stood as the team record for nearly 30 years, with John Olerud besting it in .354. His abrupt removal from the game a July 30 double header – and the still debated reason why – is believed by some to be a turning point in the season. And it was Jones’ shoe that was hit – or not, depending on how deviously brilliant Gil Hodges was – that let to his controversial walk followed by Donn Clendenon’s home run to get the Mets back in the fifth and deciding game of the World Series.

No. 25, 1985 Davey Johnson
Topps can have several rather dull years in a row, and then somehow manage to have everything come together. The 1985 set was one of those years, with a great design. Even the manager’s card looks great!

No. 24, 1993 Stadium Club John Franco
John Franco is certainly an all-time Met, but if the team ever decides to retire his number it is going to have some issues. Franco was already a star when he arrived from the Reds in 1990 wearing No. 31. But he gave it up when Mike Piazza arrived in May 1998, which he didn’t have to do considering he was practically Mr. Met. He assumed no. 45 to honor Tug McGraw – a number Pedro Martinez claimed the year Franco departed. Now, why does this otherwise magnificent portrait of Franco show him standing in front of a jersey with No. 17? Depending on when this was snapped, the jersey belonged to either David Cone or Jeff McKnight.

No. 23, 1978 Felix Millan
Maybe Franco had the jersey there to honor Felix Millan, the steady second baseman through much of the 1970s. Millan didn’t hit for power, but specialized in choking up on the bat and slapping the ball in play. Dude simply did not strike out. The 1976 card also is great, and shows how he gripped the bat. But I favor this wonderful action fielding pose.

No. 22, 1990 Keith Hernandez
The 1990 set is usually considered to be the company’s nadir. The design is dreadful, and the cardstock was crappy and many of the photos were blurry messes. But sometimes a really good photo can make it through all the other issues. Keith has some nice cards, especially the 1983. But I like this shot of him in the on-deck circle. And if the Mets ever do get No. 17 on the wall alongside Casey, Gil, Tom and Jackie, this will be the player they’ll be honoring.

No. 21, 2005 Heritage Mike Piazza
But I think there is little doubt that the next number on the wall will be No. 31 for Mike Piazza, most likely when he’s elected into the Hall of Fame in a couple years. The 1956 Topps set is in the discussion as the company’s best ever, and the Mets weren’t around then. So the Heritage issue is the next best thing.

Next we'll venture into the top 20!

Terry teaches? Collins can look at previous Mets managers on cardboard to see how he might fare

2010-11-21T19:12:00.055-05:00

Now that it appears Terry Collins will be the new Mets manager, we can pause the countdown -- again -- to see how our skippers have fared over the years in Topps sets.

It's a mixed bag, to be sure. Some nice shots, some epic shots and a bunch of pretty dull head shots.

Topps hasn't been consistent over the years, demoting managers to a small headshot in the corner of team photos for a stretch in the 1970s and early 1980s and bouncing them out of the set completely in 1982, 1994 through 2001 and again in 2010.

Hopefully they'll be back in 2011. And note to Topps, we;d rather see Collins in the second series instead of airbrushed in the first.

Here's our review, from Jerry to Casey.

Jerry Manuel, 2008-2010
Jerry liked to bunt and ran a loose clubhouse. He did have the team in fist place in late 2008 for a short time in 2010. You can't blame him for the injury glut of 2009. But he sure seemed to be going through the motions near the end. Too bad he only got one Mets manager card, because he deserved better.

2009

Willie Randolph, 2005-2008
Willie got alot of abuse for his bullpen management and perhaps carrying on like he had a Louisville Slugger up his butt most of the time. And 2007 really sucked. But 2006 sure was fun. His heritage card with Maine recalls the earlier card of Casey Stengel and Ed Kranepool. And he got a second 2008 card because of a special team set.

2008

2008 Team Set

2008 Heritage

2007

2007 Allen & Ginter

2006

2005 Traded

Art Howe, 2003-2004
It's not his fault that Fred dropped the "Light up the room," line, and Howe did take other teams to the playoffs. He did get a nice card in the Heritage set.

2005

2004

2003

2003 Heritage

2003 T-206

Bobby Valentine, 1996-2002

Bobby V is easily the most animated, exciting manager the Mets have ever had. That's why Topps chose to show him in lifeless head shots on both of his cards. Bobby deserved better, but at least the company included managers again.

2002

2001

Dallas Green, 1993-1996

The 1993 Traded card has one of the best Mets managers of all times, and Dallas Green, too. Green shares the card with Davey Johnson in his Reds uniform. It's also his only Mets card. Topps didn't have manager cards in 1994 through 2000. The sets were shrinking and the company was pandering to the investment types who would rather have a rookie -- any rookie -- and another star card in their packs instead of a manager. Boo.

1993 Traded

Jeff Torborg, 1992-1993

I got to see Torborg in his waning days as Mets manager when I was able to interview Mickey Weston in the visitors clubhouse in Riverfront Stadium in early 1993. Topps didn't do Torborg any favors, hading him a nasty airbrushed card in 1992, and a shared card in 1993.

1993

1992

Bud Harrelson, 1990-1991

One of the most beloved of Mets, Harrelson will be better remembered as shortstop and not a manager. But you have to love his smile on the 1991 card.

1991

1990 Traded

Davey Johnson, 1984-1990

The greatest Mets manager? He'd get my vote. But Davey's cards a pretty dull. He gets a lot of head and shoulder shots. But the 1985 issue with Davey leaning on the batting cage is the best portrait in the bunch.

1990

1989

1988

1987

1986

1985

1984 Traded

Frank Howard, 1983

Hondo managed 106 games in 1983, but earned a card in both the 1983 Traded set and the 1984 issue. He's got one of the better Mets manger cards-- an action photo.

1984

1983 Traded

George Bambeger, 1982-1983

Bambi came out of retirement pretty much as a favor to Frank Cashen and bailed in the middle of his second season. Too bad he only got one card, since Topps booted managers altogether from the 1982 set.

1983

Joe Torre, 1977-1981

Torre was the Mets first -- and probably last -- player-manager. And he got hosed when it comes to cards. Just one card to himself, and it had a pretty neat concept of showing manager in is playing days, too. The rest are the unfortunate tiny headshots on the team card.

1981

1980

1979

1978

Joe Frazier, 1976-1977

Frazier's the only non-interim Mets manager to never get a card of his own, stuck on two team cards. His 86 wins in 1976 is actually one of the team's better victory totals.

1977

1976

Yogi Berra, 1972-1975

Yogi has some of the coolest manager cards, showing the entire coaching staff in 1973 and 1974. But he's got the first of the bad team card headshots.

1975

1974

1973

Gil Hodges, 1968-1972

Gil got some cards worthy of a Mets hero, especially the 1970 classic. Don't like the 1968 photo too much -- looks like he's just sucked on a lemon -- and it doesn't help that Topps used the photo again for the 1969 set.

1972

1971

1970

1969

1968

Wes Westrun, 1965-1967

Westrum didn't have a lot to work with, and it's not easy to follow an icon. But he sure knew how to pose for a card. His were among the coolest Mets manager issues!

1967

1966

Casey Stengel 1962-1965

"The Ole Perfesser" got an airbrushed cap in his first card, and his last two are great, but just about identical. They show Casey sitting on the dugout steps chatting away, and one can only imagine what he was saying.

1965

1964

1963

1962

Too many Mets in Topps Top 60? Blame Topps -- and go deeper to find other teams

2010-11-18T00:33:00.020-05:00

Difficult accusations have been made about the legitimacy of our countdown of the Topps Top 60 Cards of All Time.

It appears there are some people, mostly my fellow cardboard crusader, who believe that my list is too Mets-centric, and that I have ignored cards of other players simply because they played for other teams.

This is shocking. Shocking, I tell you.

Upon review it does appear that the Mets have been blessed with a number of quality cards, at least in the section of the count between No. 60 and 31.

Hey, blame Topps! It’s not my fault the Brooklyn-based company apparently rises to the occasion when it has to produce a Mets card.

And it’s Topps fault that the company only listed its top 60. I’m fairly certain that there were a number of cards depicting non-Mets in slots from No. 61 to 80.
What? Trust, but verify?

Sigh. If you insist.

Let’s pause the count at No. 31, set back a little and see what might have been included in the countdown had Topps asked voters to rank cards starting at No. 80.

No. 80, 1973 Bob Didier.

See, there you go. The 1973 set had some amazing action shots, and some rather distant and unusual ones, too. This is one of the best, with the Braves catcher looking up to the umpire to see the call after attempting to put the tag on a player who looks suspiciously like Cleon Jones of the Mets.

No. 79, 1991 Roger Clemens.

Clemens used to be a good pitcher before he turned into an alleged roid-using, bat-tossing, wife-blaming, Canada-dissing, McNamee-bashing, All-Star-game trashing weasel. Allegedly. But this card is a classic.

No. 78, 1995 Larry Walker

The 1995 Topps set is both wonderful and terrible. The photos are among the very best the company has ever produced. Great portraits, awesome actions shots and even some collages. But the gold foil writing makes it darn near impossible to read the players’ names. This shot of Larry Walker going all Swoboda is magnificent.

No. 77, 1952 Gus Zernial

Will loves this card, and for good reason. “Ozark Ike” is posing with six balls stuck on his bat, commemorating the six homers he hit over the course of three games. Zernial is from Beaumont, Texas where I spent a week last year. But he retired to Fresno, Calif. in the early 1960s. Fresno, of course, produced some amazing players, which leads to:

No. 76, 1982 Tom Seaver In Action

Seaver is back at Shea, where he never should have left, in this action shot. True fact: Seaver doesn’t appear in a Reds home uniform in any of his base cards. Perhaps Topps was signaling that home was always in New York even if he played half his games in Cincy.

No. 75, 2005 Craig Biggio

Speaking of people who call New York home, future Hall-of-Famer Biggio also is depicted at Shea. The pride of Smithtown is attempting to put the tag on David Segui.

No. 74, 1973 Tommie Agee

In yet another game at Shea, Tommie Agee is seen patrolling centerfield. I don’t know how I missed this transaction, but apparently the Mets also traded Rusty Staub and Ken Boswell to the Astros, too.

No. 73, 1986 Tom Seaver All-Star set

These were cards that were included in rack packs. Topps didn’t use too many action photos of Seaver when he played for the White Sox, so this one is a rare treat.

No. 72, 1987 Tom Seaver

Seaver sure did find his way into some really great cards. Red Sox Nation embraced Tom’s mid-season arrival, and he led them all the way to the World Series – which the team lost to the Mets. Luckily for the Mets, Seaver was injured and couldn’t compete.

No. 71, 1971 Johnny Bench

Will loves this card, and it’s easy to see why. His man JB is in his classic batting pose in the quirky yet awesome 1971 set. It’s a beautiful card. And he was Tom Seaver’s catcher, too.

No. 70, 1992 Cal Ripken Jr.

My brother played catch with Cal Sr. Really. We had credentials for a game at Memorial Stadium, and Cal Sr. was hitting fungoes. A throw back got away and ended up at my brother’s feet. Cal asked him to throw it back. He did, and I’m forever jealous. This shot shows Cal Jr. about to break a record held by a Yankee, so that’s all good.

No. 69, 1982 Tom Seaver All-Star

Man, we are looking at a serious Mets drought here. The slackers at Topps are openly dissing the Mets at this point. Just like the Cy Young voters dissed Seaver, giving what should have been Tom’s fourth award to Fernando Valenzuela.

No. 68, 1972 Willie Mays

This a near-perfect card for a near-perfect player in a near-perfect set. And during this season, Willie would be headed to Shea.

No. 67, 1961 Bill Mazeroski World Series

Mazeroski was a phenomenal fielder, but his most glorious moment was a walk-off home run in the 1960 World Series that sent the vile Yankees packing. He earned his Hall of Fame plaque right there, even it took them years to give it to him.

No. 66, 1973 Hank Aaron

Card No. 1 in one of Topps’ all-time best sets is devoted to the home run king, the only time Topps has done a card like this.

No. 65, 1984 Traded Set Tom Seaver

After the ordeal of losing Seaver the first time, losing our hero through a front office blunder was just brutal. The 1984 base set card is probably a top-10 card, this late-season inclusion is good, too, uniform not withstanding.

No. 64, 1992 Frank Thomas

Frank’s awesome, and this card – using a photo from Sports Illustrated – is perhaps his very best. After the absolute disaster that was the 1990 set, Topps rebounded nicely.

No. 63, 1979 Tom Seaver

A great action pose, and a rare back shot, with the big 41 and last name there for all to see.

No. 62, 1972 Roberto Clemente

Talk about your heroes. Clemente would have a card in the 1973 set, but of course he died before the calendar flipped to that year. Head down and tossing a ball in the air, Roberto almost looks sad. Knowing what we know now, it fits. But I wonder what the reaction was in 1972.

No. 61, 1956 Jackie Robinson

Jackie’s a national hero, and a de facto Met given the front entrance to Citi Field. This card’s a national treasure, too. Jackie’s big smile and the background artwork all are brilliant.

Whoa! We made it all the way without a single Met in there. That was a long streak with a bunch of Reds, a couple Astros, a number of Sox both White and Red, some Braves and even Pirates, Dodgers, Giants and Astros! You guys shouldn’t have doubted me!

Happy birthday, Tom Seaver!

2010-11-17T09:41:00.004-05:00

"The Franchise" turns 66 today. How are you celebrating?

Greg Prince of the always fabulous Faith and Fear in Flushing counts some of the reasons why this should be a national holiday.

Topps Top 60 Cards part 3: Music, milestones and a mascot

2010-11-16T23:20:00.015-05:00

Continuing our march through the top 60 Topps cards of all time, it appears that this third installment also happens to include a fair number of cards from a certain, Queens-based baseball team.

No. 40: 1972 Jim Fregosi Boyhood Photo
Jim Fregosi: All-Star infielder, killer accordion player. Trading Nolan Ryan probably made a lot more sense to fans once this card came out and they learned that Fregosi was a man of many skills. Most of the boyhood cards in the magnificent 1972 set showed the players in their Little League uniforms. Not Fregosi. No, he’s brandishing that massive accordion, ready to burst out a lethal version of “Lady of Spain.” And the crazy thing is the back of the card details Jim youth league exploits and never once mentions his apparent musical skills.

No. 39: 2006 Oliver Perez
Perez is one of those players who seem to always have a sharp-looking action card. But I like this one best. Because if Ollie is on the bench, then he’s not in the game, walking the bases loaded and then giving up a grand slam. The odds of the Mets winning increase dramatically if Ollie is not playing.

No. 38: 1979 Ed Kranepool
In the days when card companies released only one set a year, Steady Eddie undoubtedly held the record for most appearances on cardboard by a Met. But 1979 was the last of his 18 seasons. This photo almost looks like Krane is tipping his cap to fans saluting him for a fine career.

No. 37: 1973 Yogi Berra
Topps rarely added coaches to the manager cards, and it was nice to see Rube Walker, Roy McMillin, Eddie Yost and Joe Pignatano getting some recognition in the 1973 and 1974 sets.

No. 36: 1989 Lenny Dykstra
I met Dykstra at a card show in Manhattan around the time this card came out. He seemed really nice when I asked him too sign my Mets book, and to add his nickname “Nails.” He did – and spelled it wrong, realized the error and tried to fix it. Sharpies are unforgiving. He sheepishly slid the book back across the table.

No. 35: 2007 Mr. Met
Topps started to give Mr. Met and less-worthy mascots some love the Opening Day sets. Note the assistant with the T-shirt launcher. I’m reminded of the television ad with Mr. Met sneaking into the empty stands before a game and launching shirts at an unsuspecting grounds crew member, then attempting to duck behind a seat. “Dude, I can see like 80 percent of your head!”

No. 34: 1964 Jim Hickman
The 1962 Mets were a collection of faded stars, the under-skilled and a few youngsters with some potential. Count Hickman in the last category. He was a solid player and holds some milestones, including being the first Met to hit for the cycle. He hit the last homer in the Polo Grounds and was the first Met to hit three homers in one game. He also was the last of the original Mets. Hickman later represented the Cubs in the 1970 All-Star Game and smashed the 12th-inning hit that drove Pete Rose around third and barreling into Ray Fosse.

No. 33: 1976 Rusty Staub
This portrait of a smiling Daniel Joseph Staub makes it pretty clear how he came to be known as “Rusty,” and “Le Grande Orange,” hero to Canadians. Alas, Staub was know by another name by the time this card came out: Detroit Tiger right fielder. Yet another bad trade by the Mets, and incoming Mickey Lolich didn’t even play the accordion.

No. 32: 2000 Robin Ventura
Ventura’s Grand Slam Single in the rain during the 15th inning of Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS is easily one of the Mets most glorious post-season memories. But there have actually been two other grand slam singles, though none as dramatic. In 1970, the Tigers’ Dalton Jones accidently passed teammate Don Wert while rounding the bases. And on July 4, 1976 Fox broadcaster and know-it-all Tim McCarver must have been too enthralled by the bicentennial celebration because he passed teammate Garry Maddox. As for Ventura, the lighting on this 2000 card is just perfect.

No. 31: 1969 Nolan Ryan
And we close out the first third of our countdown with Nolan Ryan, before he was traded for a musician. Look closely at Nolan’s glove. That would be the ball nestled in the webbing. Ryan was famous for his blazing fastball, supposedly throwing so hard that batters could barely see it. Or, as this card suggests, Ryan was just really good at the old hidden ball trick.

Top 60 Topps cards of all time, part 2

2010-11-16T00:28:00.012-05:00

We’re back with Part 2 of the countdown to the top 60 Topps baseball cards of all time. So far, all of the cards happened to be of Mets players. Let’s see if this trend continues.

No. 50: 2007 Bowman Heritage Joe Smith
Smith became a fan favorite as a rookie, coming out of the pen with his unusual side-arm delivery and knee-buckling pitches. Alas, he went to the Indians as part of the great bullpen purge and has been steady if not unspectacular for the past two seasons –meaning the Mets have missed him greatly. This is a fun card because Topps inserted city scenes in the backgrounds. Joe has Coney Island’s glorious Wonder Wheel for all to see. And the end of the 2007 season made a lot of Mets fans want to hurl, kind of like after you hop into one of the swinging cars in the Wonder Wheel after downing a couple dogs at Nathan's.

No. 49: 1996 Pete Harnisch
Harnisch got points for being from Commack and being a decent enough pitcher on some crappy mid-90s Mets teams. He’s famous for a couple other things, like being one of only 26 pitchers to strike out a side on just nine pitches. He also went public with his battle with clinical depression while pitching with the Mets in 1997. He’s also got and unusual pitching motion, which this card captures perfectly.

No. 48: 2000 Brian Cole
Of course we’ll never know if Cole would have become the great ballplayer we all expected him to be. He died from injuries suffered on at the end of spring training in 2001, when his Ford Explorer Sport veered off State Highway 8 in Florida and rolled over. But we know for sure that even at his young age, Cole knew how to pose for a baseball card. This portrait is one of the best in the set.

No. 47: 1967 Mets Maulers
Topps would occasionally slip into sets neat shots of more than one player, based around a theme. Casey Stengel and Gene Woodling were on a “Veteran Masters” card in 1963, and the next year Casey was joined by Ed Kranepool for a “Casey Teaches” card. Kranepool must have been a prized student of the “Ole Professor” because he appeared again in 1967 with Ron Swoboda on a card optimistically called “Mets Maulers.” Truth be told, the Mets of that era were more likely on the receiving end of a mauling. But this is still a fun card of two young Mets.

No. 46: 1994 Stadium Club David Segui
Segui offered a somewhat subpar year for the Mets in 1994, hitting .241 with 10 home runs. The next year he improved nicely to a robust .309 batting average with a bunch more doubles and triples. Now sometimes when a player makes a nice little boost like that, people throw around an ugly word, and that word is steroids. Often, such players play for the Yankees. There are some people who run around saying Segui confessed to taking such things. I think Segui is mistaken, because everybody knows Mets would never take steroids. That said, I really like this dugout portrait.

No. 45: 1991 Sid Fernandez
Topps bounced back from the total disaster that was the 1990 set with one of the company’s better offerings in 1991. El Sid notched his best season with the Mets in 1986, going 16-6 and a masterful relief performance in Game Seven of the World Series. But the 1991 season of this card was a disaster, with Sid breaking his arm in spring training, returning in July then breaking down again with knee problems in September. The horizontal card from that season, however, is Sid’s best.

No. 44: 1997 Stadium Club John Olerud
The Mets starting rising from the 1990s slump late in the decade, and the 1997 arrival of John Olerud was one of the reasons why. His .358 batting average in 1998 is a team record, and his sparkling defense was one of the reasons by Sports Illustrated parked Olerud on the cover with Edgardo Alfonzo, Rey Ordonez and Robin Ventura with the title “The Greatest Infield Ever?” Amazingly, Yankee hack Tom Verducci did not quit in protest.

No. 43: 2008 Shea Stadium
The Mets home, in its final year, was granted a card of its own in a special Mets set. A curious choice for a photo, we get an exterior shot with an empty parking lot, save for a couple of New York’s Finest walking through. It’s even hard to make out the iconic neon players.

No. 42: 1987 Randy Myers
Myers had cups of coffee with the 1985 and 1986 teams, but came into his own in 1987, even finishing sixth in the Rookie of the Year balloting. This pre-Nasty Boys era photo of Randall K. in is batting practice jersey shows just how good the Mets might look had they adopted blue alternative jerseys instead of the goofy black ones.

No. 41: 1976 Tom Seaver
You didn’t think some other player would be allowed to carry the honor of being No. 41, did you? There might be a couple Seavers on this list. The 1976 shot shows Tom in a classic spring training, baseball card pose. There might not even be a ball in his hand, but he’s probably not going to fire a pitch from the on-deck circle anyway. I remember pulling this card in the very first pack of cards I opened that year, and decided that I’d never have to buy another until 1977. That rule lasted maybe a day.