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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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Hot Rod Told Me

“Baseball is a lot like life. The line drives are caught, the squibbers go for base hits. It's an unfair game.”

Typical of the early Mets that Hot Rod Kanehl's greatest contribution to the game of baseball would be a quote. Still, it's a pretty good quote. Kanehl would have liked tonight's game. Well, not liked it — not if he retained any of his orange-and-blue loyalties — but nodded his head at how it unfolded.

Pedro Martinez was ridiculously dominant — except for that second inning. Other than that second inning, he didn't give up a hit. What did he get to show for it? Nothing. Brett Myers? He was pretty good too. Nothing to show for it. The winning pitcher? Tom Gordon was rocked for three hits, including a line drive by Carlos Delgado that did get caught — only it was by someone who bought a ticket. The squibber? It made a losing pitcher of Aaron Heilman, not long after he got victimized by a ball that landed on the line and then somehow didn't bounce into the stands. Kaz Matsui got penalized for not adjusting his batting eye to Doug Eddings' suddenly itinerant strike zone. And poor Julio Franco got ejected without even getting to play.

From the heart-into-throat whooosh! of Delgado's home run to the ya-gotta-be-kidding-me glower of losing on a fricking spring-training play. Ugh.

It's an unfair game. But then Hot Rod told us that a long time ago.

And at least there's something that makes it OK: We get another one tomorrow.

8 comments to Hot Rod Told Me

  • Anonymous

    The way I see it, between the insanity of Sunday's game and the whole relief-pitcher-makes-throwing-error-in-bottom-of-9th thing tonight (damn, it's so much more fun when it's the opposing team's relief pitcher doing it), the karma account is now balanced, if not slightly tilted against us. It's about time for the lucky bounces to go the Mets' way again.

  • Anonymous

    I'd love to read your reasoned rationalization for all that went wrong tonight, but I can't. There is still far too much steam fuming from my ears to see the screen. This was the worst loss of the year. The Phillies are the worst mutations of humanity that nature has served up in some time. Doug Eddings grew up writing fan letters to Angel Hernandez. And Hot Rod Kanehl, may the good lord bless his sweet soul, played for a team whose line drives never went for base hits.
    Not that I have the vaguest idea what I just wrote. Too many fumes.

  • Anonymous

    Forget it, Jake.
    It's Chinatown.

  • Anonymous

    “It's a strike! It's a ball! It's a strike! It's a ball! It's a strike and a ball. Understand? Or is it too tough for you?”
    Somebody slap Mr. Eddings around some more.

  • Anonymous

    what would typically be an excruciating loss, and the lead is down to 3 games…and yet, i'm not panicked. this must be how it feels when you've got a good team, are in first, and know you'll win your share of these.
    just the same, that is one suck-ass bottom of the ninth. and did anyone else just wish keith ron and gary would stop making such a big deal about sanchez's streak? did they take a vow to stir the wrath of the basebal gods, or what?even though there were two outs, they kept yapping away and practically talked that run into being.

  • Anonymous

    Now, Kaz, remember, here in thus US, the strikezone is a fixed box from the knees to the letters…unless it's an irregular polygon the size of Manhattan and bobbing eratically up and down like a buoy in a hurricane.

  • Anonymous

    Now, remember, Kaz, here in the US, the strike zone is a fixed, tight box from the knees to the letters…Unless, of course, it's an irregular polygon the size of Manhattan and bobbing eratically up and down like a buoy in a hurricane. I bet they didn't tell you about that rule in the Japanese leagues…

  • Anonymous

    Arg, somehow that came out twice. Just as well though, it's in keeping with the dual strike/ball nature of Gordon's put away pitch.