The blog for Mets fans
who like to read


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 (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.

Was This Trip Really Necessary?

The game, well, it was a mess: From the first batter Alay Soler faced, it was a question not of if but of when: When would the Red Sox have seen enough of Soler to zero in on those high fastballs and 12-to-somewhere-north-of-6 curves and start hammering them? (The answer, as it so often is, was the 5th, when Varitek's drive to right-center served notice that they had the range.)

Meanwhile, Lester kept sneaking off the ropes before we could land a solid blow, though his confrontation with Wright was a thing of beauty. I tried calling pitches along with Varitek, and kept asking Emily if Lester would have the balls to throw the Mets' best hitter a 3-2 curveball. On Pitch #10 he did, it was a beauty, and that was that. That's a pretty impressive rookie over there. Once Alex Gonzalez sent one over the Monster it was pretty clear it was over, with Beltran's and Marrero's homers just rouge on a corpse. No particular shame in it — bad performance by a rookie fifth starter, misplay in the outfield, overly aggressive decision by Manny Acta, up against a superb lineup — but not one to remember. Let's call it the night Jose Reyes didn't fracture a collerbone or break a rib (apparently — frantic wood-knocking) and move on.

Still, I didn't want to be here in the first place. It's not that I'm scared of Boston — this team has no reason to be scared of anybody — but I don't want to play them. Granted, I don't want to play any American League team, but this is different. I like the Red Sox. When they're playing the Yankees I flip over during the breaks and offer them whatever psychic energies I can spare. Each year, if our season expires and they still have a pulse, I'm looking for a seat on their bandwagon. I stayed up night after night to witness the October 2004 heroics of Ortiz and Roberts and Schilling and Foulke and Damon and all the other Idiots, and was thrilled for my many Boston friends when 86 years of rotten karma evaporated in an unlikely sweep.

This isn't unique among Mets fans, of course. Nor should it be: We have common cause, after all. We both dwell in the shadow of an implacable Enemy and Its vile legions, and have spent most of our existences rooting and praying and begging — usually in vain — for that Enemy to be brought low. I know there's 1986 and I know some Red Sox fans view us as just the other New York team, the low-tar cigarettes of cancerous Gotham baseball. So be it — we can't help that. (And, not being insane, wouldn't particularly want to help 1986.) Beyond that, what? OK, they employed the Antichrist, but his days of full-blown depravity were still ahead of him. Some vague nastiness between Piazza and Pedro a million years ago, long forgotten. Carl Everett throwing a fit. A minor free-agent duel over whether or not Pedro would go to no Mets.

Mets at Boston. In June. Well, OK, if we must. But must we? It's like hearing our army has to slug it out with Britain's for three days. What on earth for? Don't we both have better things to do?

7 comments to Was This Trip Really Necessary?

  • Anonymous

    As a Mets fan living in Boston,this was a tough one seeing as though its the only mets tix i have all year. Horrible game but impressive showing by Mets fans in terms of numbers at the park.

  • Anonymous

    Agreed. In my house, we root for what we call a trifecta (it can be positive or negative). That is, Mets win, Red Sox win, and Yankees lose. Generally, the Mets winning takes precedence over all else, but tonight, well, I was okay with the Mets losing. We've got the lead to be generous to our red-hot brothers in arms with our 5th starter on the mound. All I ask is a Pedro win tomorrow, and a close game on Thursday.
    We do have better things to do after that. We've got a common foe to trounce.

  • Anonymous

    That curveball from Lester to Wright was the ballgame.
    It struck me how many good young players there were on the field. Wright, Reyes, Milledge, Youkilis, Lester, Papelbon. . . for a couple of top-5 free-agent-heavy behemoths, it's good to see the next generation assert themselves.

  • Anonymous

    Can someone just knock me out for the rest of this series? This was difficult enough from 1997 to 2001 to deal with.

  • Anonymous

    To me, this is one of the best series of the year. Not just for the thrill of us playing a top AL team in a great stadium, or the Pedro fun. But because, for once, if we lose it's not the end of the world. Sure, I'd prefer a sweep, but if we have to lose a game or two, who better than to those who lead the eternal struggle vs the evil empire?

  • Anonymous

    I don't want to hear myself thinking this again, but last night, I did go with, “Oh well, at least it's for a good cause.”

  • Anonymous

    Well, there goes that idea. Wow. That hurt. Poor Pedro. What happened? I sure hope he's okay.
    PS Let's rip Schilling tomorrow, human-sacrifice-curse-breaker or not, I'm tired of this bullshit.