The blog for Mets fans
who like to read

ABOUT US

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.

Got something to say? Leave a comment, or email us at faithandfear@gmail.com. (Sorry, but we have no interest in ads, sponsored content or guest posts.)

Need our RSS feed? It's here.

Visit our Facebook page, or drop by the personal pages for Greg and Jason.

Or follow us on Twitter: Here's Greg, and here's Jason.

Explosions! The Earth Is Moving!

Is that an earthquake?

No, it's Ramon!

Fans of Romy & Michele's High School Reunion, which include my six-pack partner and myself, will recognize the above line and may have very well applied it to the eighth inning Tuesday night. Laurie and I have been tossing it back and forth all season every time our backup catcher […]

Hangin' With 'Em

Hang with 'em.

I kept saying that.

I said it in the 1st, when David Wright came up as the tying run and got under a Robinson Tejeda pitch. Hang with 'em, David.

I said it in the 5th, when Cliff Floyd came up as the tying run and hammered a first-pitch Tejeda fastball to center. […]

Don't Be Silly, Let's Beat Philly

There's one silly story going around that's getting loads of attention and one fascinating story that should be obvious but has gone generally unreported.

The silly story regards Steve Trachsel and his place in the rotation. Oh yawn. Please, Steve, you couldn't be any more boring if you tried. And goodness knows you've tried.

You pitched a […]

Take Off Your Rainbow Shades

The San Francisco Giants can go wait by the curb with the Brewers and the Royals (not our direct concern, but all of humanity was let down by those bargain-basement bumblers Saturday) and the rest of Sunday's baseball detritus. They lose two of three to the Phillies but beat us two of three? Some nerve. […]

Scoreboard Watching

What do you do when your offense has vanished again and you wind up dropping two of three to the Giants? You look for help from your friends, of course.

So let's call the roll.

God bless you, you St. Louis Cardinals. You're fine players and good people.

The Chicago Cubs are just terrific. Man, put a Zambrano […]

The Almost-Almost-Met

Jose, we love you. Rest assured of that. Now, please keep working on working counts. Um, especially when the pitcher's walked three guys in the inning and the opposing manager doesn't have a reliever warm. Please, Jose?

But OK, yesterday's gone. In the New York Post, Kevin Kernan has a nice piece about Tim Hamulack, the […]

Schmidt Happens

Ehh. Sometimes you get beat by a good pitcher. Believe me when I say that the following…

BOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

…is intended to help finish the road trip on a good note, not a recrimination for Saturday's 2-1 loss. You didn't expect the Mets winning streak to reach infinity, did you?

Did you?

Good news is Philly lost, so it's still […]

The Emancipation of Stevie

You an SCTV fan? If you are, then you’ll remember Monster Chiller Horror Theater, hosted by Count Floyd, Joe Flaherty’s version of every low-rent Friday night sci-fi filmfest emcee in every local market. What made it all the more resonant was that in its heyday, SCTV aired Friday nights at 12:30 on NBC (and is […]

Terrifying

Oh man, that eighth inning.

Trachsel clearly running out of gas (though I was happy to see Willie let him hit for himself and go out there), Tim Welke's Magical Strike Zone contracting, the count mounting on Mike Matheny, I'm muttering Come ON Trachsel, hit it to anybody though preferably not Diaz, then Michael Fucker (whose […]

August, Sweet August

Apologies for the recent screwiness. (We don't know what went wrong; we just work here.) Welcome back to August 26th, in which we're all older but hey, our baseball team is much better. Let us never discuss July 6th again. Or be .500.