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.

Done

News flash: you’re not, in fact, required to watch the 2017 Mets’ death throes.

I don’t know if that’s fair — maybe there are some among us who in fact must do so. Those paid by the Mets, for instance. You’re off the hook. Or those granted parole under really odd conditions. That might violate the […]

A Night to Forget, An Affair to Remember

There I sat, an unaffiliated baseball fan, watching the game because it was the only game that was on, the final game that would be on, Game Seven of the World Series, October 29, 2014, the Royals playing the Giants for the championship of the sport I loved. Those teams and that circumstance had nothing […]

A New Standard

I straggled home from Game Four of the World Series Sunday at 2:00 AM EDT, which in the instant it took me to look up at the clock, became Sunday at 1:00 AM EST.

Standard Time had returned and the Mets were still playing baseball. Not very well on the eve of us gaining our wee […]

Real Time With Zack Wheeler

You can now update the Mets’ slash line to reflect their currently accurate settings:

9 YRSWOPSA/15 YRSWOPNT/29 YRSWOWCH

GLOSSARY
YRSWOPSA: Years Without Postseason Appearance
YRSWOPNT: Years Without Pennant
YRSWOWCH: Years Without World Championship

The clock jumped ahead one year once the Pirates beat the Brewers in a game loaded with playoff race implications, which is to say it had […]

From Win and Lose and Still Somehow

There they go, off to a farm upstate, and I don’t mean Binghamton. Your 2013 New York Mets are no longer mathematically alive for postseason consideration. Spiritually they never showed much of a pulse, either, give or take a delusion or two that sprouted amidst the heat of late July. This season still somehow has […]

Same Quit, Different Day

In five years’ time, we’ve gone from being officially eliminated behind a starting pitcher who gallingly showed no emotion when his historically miserable first inning sealed our doom, to being officially eliminated behind a starting pitcher whose emotional brittleness over his historically miserable first inning was uncomfortably apparent.

Either way, the Mets were dead then and […]

So Very Hard to Go

It was during Willie Harris’s at-bat in the ninth inning Wednesday night that I was trying very hard, from way out in the right field corner, to will another ball out of Drew Storen so as to build the slightest of rallies and increase the slightest of chances that the crappiest of games might reverse […]

Set the Clock Forward

One of the sadder things about elimination day is how you now know you’re going to have to wait another year for the possibility — and nothing more — that you’ll finally get those things you spend the offseason wishing for and the balance of the season rooting for. Elimination comes along and you’re forced […]

No Hearts Were Broken in the Elimination of This Team

How different. How incredibly different. For two years in a row, I was a first-hand witness to history, sitting slumped over and dejected in the highest tier of an enormous stadium. On a Sunday afternoon in September 2007 and on another Sunday afternoon in September 2008, I watched my baseball team eliminated from a chance […]

The Little Game 7

I won't claim it's an original thought, but as the final outs ticked down today, I mused to myself: It's 2006's Game 7 in miniature.

There was Oliver Perez, a scarily unknown quantity, pitching on three days' rest and acquitting himself very ably indeed. There were the bats, not being heard from enough. There was Endy […]