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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.

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First, We Take Miami

If you want to swim with the sharks, you’ve got to learn to outlast the Marlins. Or something like that. And son of a Rich Renteria, Monday night we sure as Orestes Destrade did.

On the twentieth anniversary plus one day of the evening Anthony Young didn’t just not lose to but actually won against then-expansion […]

And Here We Are Again

The funny thing is I’m not sure I actually know what Greg Dobbs looks like.

Ask me to picture Chase Utley or Robinson Cano or Brian McCann or Ryan Zimmermann and I can instantly conjure a mental picture for you. Dobbs? I’ve got nothing except a general impression of squatness.

But maybe that’s appropriate. Just as a […]

Rooting for Wile E. Coyote

A night after losing one of the most horrible baseball games I’ve ever seen in head-shaking, gag-inducing fashion, the Mets took on the Marlins and played eight and a half innings of baseball that was punchless but didn’t make you want to pour lye in your eyes, which is to say it was an improvement. […]

On Having A Ball

Forty seasons of home games at Shea Stadium and Citi Field. Literally hundreds of visits. Wins. Losses. Elation. Heartbreak. The gamut of human emotions. The whole bit.

Except for a ball. I had never gotten a ball from the field of play. Not foul, not fair, not batting practice.

Mine.

But that has changed. Thirty-nine years and […]

Time-Shifted Train Wreck

Oh, your 2012 Mets. They bite and claw and fight and come back, so you can never ever give up on them. It’s an endearing quality in a team, particularly one pegged as a second-division outfit.

Oh, your 2012 Mets. The second you get giddy, they crash and burn, leaving you in the fetal position. It’s […]

The Ghost of Soilmaster

The high-flying, temporarily much-beloved, pitch-count-focused, never-say-die Mets arrived in Miami to find the Marlins in the home version of their horrible new uniforms and ensconced in their horrible new park before a somewhat larger number of their horrible non-fans than we’re used to seeing.

There was a lot new there, on both sides, but one thing […]

Notes From a Very Long Evening

By about the fifth inning or so it was clear that the only way to capture this Bataan Death March of a game was chronologically, as fear ebbed and flowed and was overtaken by exhaustion. If you have trouble fixing just when something happened or recalling what sparked some outburst from me, rest assured that […]

Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off

Josh Thole loomed as Mr. Metaphor Saturday night, falling down rounding first and getting his eager ass tagged out on a throw-behind from Emilio Bonifacio to Gaby Sanchez in the seventh, then picking himself up, dusting himself off and lining the go-ahead single in the ninth. Turned out, however, Thole’s destiny was to serve as […]