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Jason Fry and Greg Prince
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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Sir Duke


The Pirates may be the Pirates — add “the same overeager young player getting thrown out trying to stretch a two-out double twice in one game” to the list of things I'd never seen in baseball — but every fifth day from here on out, I want no part of them. Zach Duke is awesome, man. Evil curveballs, good heat, excellent location, fearless. And tricky — he unveiled a slider in the fourth inning of a no-hit bid that left Cliff Floyd shaking his head somewhere between admiration and anger, like he best beware or in the seventh young Mr. Duke might find a knuckleball in his apparently bottomless bag of tricks.

At least this wasn't the usual script of a shaking-in-his-boots rookie bringing in an ERA north of 5 and then beating us like rented mules. The kid was just good. He even looks like a lot like a young Paul Wilson, though I hope that's no harbinger of his future.

On our side, well, just tip your cap. Victor was bad — he's alternated good starts and bad starts for nearly a month now, which has got to stop — but even good wasn't going to get it done tonight. Which left it a night for scoreboard-watching. Marlins won, Phillies and Nats obediently split their doubleheader, and our good friends the Brewers overcome the Astros (with the Antichrist on the mound, no less). Could've been worse.

Three out. Forty-two to play. That's doable, ain't it?

1 comment to Sir Duke

  • Anonymous

    Games like this are good ones to go to with a pal with whom you can talk about other things. That's what I did. Our ability to be distracted plus the fact that our seats, while technically good, faced slightly toward the outfield, didn't allow us to appreciate the artistry of that Duke boy, but we could sure tell Cliff was baffled.
    Look at the bright side. Duke is bound to face the Astros before the season is over.
    Second game in a row that a foul ball landed just behind me. All I can hope for is a bounce because if it's coming right at me, I'm a-duckin'.
    The ice cream cap can go back into storage. Its five-game winning streak was snapped. So much for magical headgear.
    Drove to Shea for the first time in almost three years, not a point A-point B task for someone who is allergic to highways. If you're not picky about making good time and enjoy the scenery that the secondary roads of Queens and Nassau counties provide, I'm your man. Ever since I read “The Power Broker,” I'm kind of a nut about using public transportation (predated my panic attacks), but every now and then, I enjoy acknowledging my suburban white boy roots. All that was missing on the way home was Bad Company blaring out of the speakers.