The blog for Mets fans
who like to read

ABOUT US

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.

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.

Fight the Future

In a season turned disappointing, Matt Harvey’s performances just get more encouraging.

Harvey throws a fastball in the high 90s and supplements it with a good curve and slider and a developing change-up, so this statement wouldn’t seem to be edging too far from the tree trunk. But none of Harvey’s pitches was working particularly well […]

Danger, Sandy Alderson

As I wrote yesterday, the Mets do nothing and then they do bad things and then they do dumb things. That was true again tonight, except it was far worse. Yesterday’s game was depressing and discouraging. Tonight’s was infuriating — a bone-headed, brain-dead disaster that was sickening to witness.

The Mets are utterly horrible and completely […]

Acceptance

This time I saw it coming — a brutal regression to the mean in the second half of what had been a heartening season.

Funny thing is, it didn’t make any difference.

Once again I went to kick the football of postseason hopes, and once again the Mets pulled it out of the way, and once again […]

With a Whimper

If the Mets get shellacked 7-0 by the Cubs, does it make a sound?

I ask because looking around the series of tubes, I see a lot of first-half-of-the-season stuff, and not a lot of stuff about a normally patient club making like nine Jeff Francoeurs so they could get in their SUVs and be somewhere […]

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Glum

I sensed trouble from the start.

I’m not sure why I did — the ball Neil Walker hit to begin the bottom of the Pirates’ eighth wasn’t going out and wasn’t parachuting in. It was ticketed for short of the warning track, a quick trot at worst for either the left fielder or the center fielder. […]

...And Sometimes Baseball Is Not Fun

The 2012 Mets have been recalled from Cooperstown.

It was a night of firsts. They lost their first game. They lost their first game that made you roll your eyes and mutter and swear and stalk around. They lost their first game in which they looked absolutely hopeless and star-crossed and fatally flawed.

All of which was […]

Your Mets Forecast: Gloomy With a Chance of Disaster

You’ve all seen it: The fan who draws back from the bar or the TV with a look somewhere between shock and disbelief on his or her face, then gets it together and manages to mutter, “Oh man … THIS TEAM.”

If you’re true to the orange and blue, you’ve probably muttered that yourself a few […]

He's Still 'Jose' (not 'Reyes') to Me

A friend and I were discussing recent Met developments over the weekend. He referred to “Gil and Reyes,” as in he perceives an anti-New York bias inherent in Gil Hodges not making the generally worthless National Baseball Hall of Fame and Jose Reyes not finishing in the Top Ten of the National League MVP voting. […]

The Remains

Back in May I wondered what it would feel like when the number of Jose Reyes Mets highlights remaining were reduced to zero. Now we know.

It sucks.

Jose Reyes is no longer a Met. That’s awful enough right there, but of course it’s worse.

Jose Reyes is a Miami Marlin. Eighteen times a year, starting in late […]

Don't Get Me Rewrite

The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.

That, of course, is by Bart Giamatti, a sweet, sad salute that will be quoted […]