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Greg Prince and Jason Fry
Faith and Fear in Flushing made its debut on Feb. 16, 2005, the brainchild of two longtime friends and lifelong Met fans.

Greg Prince discovered the Mets when he was 6, during the magical summer of 1969. He is a Long Island-based writer, editor and communications consultant. Contact him here.

Jason Fry is a Brooklyn writer whose first memories include his mom leaping up and down cheering for Rusty Staub. Check out his other writing here.

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So Good to See You

OK, I've officially had it with the cable blackout. This was my first chance to see a full game in a week, and it brought home how many things I've missed and how many things you can't tell from the radio, even when you're in good hands with Gary and Howie. Like except for his wheels-fell-off inning, Aaron Heilman's stuff looked good — life, movement, mixing fastball and change effectively, hitting spots, and most importantly he didn't seem scared of his own repertoire. And watching David Wright suddenly snapped him back into focus for me — I love the way he holds his bat vertically before him, like a knight with a broadsword, and seems to commune with it before stepping back into the box. I should be used to that sight by now, and filing it away in my mind as the thing that identifies Wright as Wright, letting me know him from even a split-second glance. Fricking Dolans.

And, of course, it was nice to see the team show some fight beyond indignation amid the death throes. They hung tough, pounced and won, and something told me they would once Heilman rebounded. It was nice to watch a game with some confidence. (It'd be nicer to put .500 solidly below us, of course.)

Semi-random observations:

* Joe Morgan is even more of a dolt than I'd remembered. I thought his defense of Reyes was nonsensical, and suspect it's one of his reflexive I-hate-stats-geeks bloviations. (The great irony about his hating Billy Beane's Michael Lewis' book is that Morgan was a terrific “Moneyball” player, but that's well-trodden ground, so I'll simply register my disapproval and move on.) Don't tell me insisting Jose Reyes learn the strike zone and get the most out of his considerable talent will somehow ruin him by “taking away his aggressiveness.” Somebody better take away some of his aggressiveness — he's popping up 0-1 sliders two feet off the plate and seeing a Ryan Thompsonesque number of pitches. This team isn't going anywhere with a leadoff hitter with a .265 OBA. Time to rein him in, preferably by hitting him eighth. And Ol' Joe apparently doesn't look at the monitor, either: Cristian Guzman's infield single didn't happen because Mientkiewicz slipped and Roberto Hernandez had to slow down to take the throw. It happened because Hernandez got caught spectating on the mound and broke for the bag late — even if Minky fields it cleanly, Guzman gets to the bag first. I think the long-dormant portions of Joe Morgan's brain are swelling up and scrambling the signals traveling along his optic nerves. Maybe that elbow pump was an early sign of some kind of neural trouble.

* Speaking of Cristian Guzman, he plays this game like the drunk guy on the company softball team. He'll get the most heat for his attempted steal of third with one out in the seventh (apparently Guzman missed a sign — what's the Nats' signal for “Don't do anything dimwitted”?) but going for the triple in the ninth was silly too. Tiny upside, basically infinite downside. It's like some mean teammate told him there are cookies hidden under third base.

3 comments to So Good to See You

  • Anonymous

    Much as Joe Morgan annoys me, he's just reading the papers on Jose. Our esteemed manager explains his reluctance to explain the game to Jose as not wanting to get in the way of his aggressiveness. And Jose has taken that as carte blanche — he continually points out that it's important he's aggressive. If it weren't for the umpteen injured Mets, I would advocate removing him from the line-up until he learns to look at a pitch. As it is, I'll second your notion of moving him down to 8th. Although Rey could never be convinced to walk in the 8-hole…

  • Anonymous

    Well, yeah, but I don't dislike Willie. Logic at its finest, I know.

  • Anonymous

    As a broadcaster, Joe Morgan was a heck of a second baseman.