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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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The Other Possibility

If you went to bed at 10 and looked at the box score in the morning, maybe you thought, “Eh, ho-hum loss. Mets didn't convert hits, Padres got to Sosa early, Heilman stank.”

But it's not so. Or, rather, it's not the whole story.

Sosa was fine and the Mets fell apart late, but you could see the collapse coming. They were like a car that left a trail of little, seemingly inconsequential parts — washers and bolts and what-not — on the side streets before dropping a transmission in the middle of the freeway.

As Gary and Ron ably chronicled on SNY, even when the game was close, the Mets kept doing dopey things — dopey things that won't show up in the box score. Like Wright being too aggressive in the sixth and getting instantly erased by a lefty hurler's pickoff move. (Though charging for second without bothering with the rundown was a good try.) Like — and this was the one that really stuck in my craw — Shawn Green working the count to 3-1 against an obviously overamped Heath Bell, then grounding out on a shoulder-high outside pitch. Like Reyes inexplicably watching a 3-1 cookie go down the pipe and turn into a caught stealing for Gotay. Like Feliciano rushing a throw to third on a catcher. The same stupid shit we've seen over and over and over again since Memorial Day, in other words.

The best thing for this team would be two weeks in Port St. Lucie running the kind of drills teams run in February. Failing that, what? I guess we could hope that the Braves and Phillies play .400 ball for the rest of the season. (And even that might not win us the division.) We could convince ourselves that Moises Alou has been rehabbing in a time machine. Or we could keep telling ourselves that a 35-year-old starting pitcher with surgically repaired parts will fix everything just by showing up.

The longer we keep talking about June and July and ruts and funks, the more we have to admit another possibility: Maybe April and May were the outliers. Maybe this team just isn't that good.

4 comments to The Other Possibility

  • Anonymous

    The longer we keep talking about June and July and ruts and funks, the more we have to admit another possibility: Maybe April and May were the outliers. Maybe this team just isn't that good.
    You'll be sorry when the Great Pumpkin shows up.
    I think the worst thing is that this team has become a living, breathing Wally Matthews column, particularly the ones in which he writes that last year was this group's last, best chance to do anything.
    I keep thinking, is this it? Was last year as good as it gets? Is Willie not the great leader of men he looked to be? Do we have to suffer through 2001-2004 all over again as Omar desperately tries to recapture 2006 in the winters ahead?
    Is this it?

  • Anonymous

    Hi Jason,
    If things continue to go as they are, we might wind up as the 2007 version of the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals.
    Always called St. Louis winners of a post-season tournament rather than World Champions. If this happens to the Mets then I'm going to have egg on my face (sunny side up).

  • Anonymous

    This is like watching 2005 Beltran on the 2001 Mets.

  • Anonymous

    In one sentence, the most devastating and accurate critique I've read of this team to date.