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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.

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Amen, brother. Sayeth His Coheniness, “Pedro’s been described as a diva. What he is is a maestro.”

No disrespect to Martinez, Mientkiewicz and all who made Thursday night necessary, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that these two squads played back-to-back blowouts. It’s hard to take games in Florida seriously given that every name they slap on the erstwhile True Playa Pimp Park is worse than the one before it. Dolphins Stadium? For baseball? To Wayne Huizenga, who eviscerated the Marlins, sold them and then sticks it to them every chance he gets from his perch as owner of the Miami football team, I would ask, have you no sense of decency sir, at long last? Dolphins Stadium? Have you left no sense of decency?

Screw the Marlins. On to the Nationals.

The Nationals?

Like everything that’s new, this seems weird, but probably won’t be by the time our first game against them is over. By 10 o’clock Friday night, I’ll have had enough of the Washington Nationals to last me a lifetime, and it will seem perfectly normal to have it in for a team, a city and a following that didn’t exist in the National League East until a few weeks ago.

I already don’t like them. I don’t like anybody in our division (it’s the nature of the beast), but I don’t like that they’ve gotten to take up even temporary residence in first place while we flail around the .500 mark. I don’t like that they could suddenly afford Cristian Guzman who couldn’t get the last out against the Braves Thursday afternoon. I don’t like that a bunch of D.C. phonies who didn’t know Brian Schneider from Brad Wilkerson now presents each as sterling examples of young, American manhood. I don’t like that their stadium is older than ours but will get a free pass all year because it’s not The Big O. And I don’t like that their new stadium is scheduled to be up and running when our old one will still be down and deteriorating.

Beyond all that, I hate that they’ve disappeared the Expos.

Where did our MON go? Used to be you could open any National League pocket schedule and MON would take its rightful place among PHI and ATL and FLA. Now MON has become WAS or WSH. We are told it’s a good thing.

Maybe it is. Maybe a city in another country that couldn’t or wouldn’t get its act together to support a team doesn’t deserve the game. Maybe it was misguided to think a place where English is the second language and Spanish isn’t in the top two would be a baseball town. Maybe you can’t argue with a decade of desolation and despair and how the Mets’ “final-ever visit” to Olympic Stadium became an annual event, thus a running joke.

But it’s wrong somehow. It’s wrong that the Washington Nationals and not the Montreal Expos are coming to Shea Friday night. It’s a hole in the fabric of our summer not to find MON on that patchwork quilt of boxes on the schedule. It’s wrong that 36 years of honorable opposition has been wiped away so Tim Russert doesn’t have to drive his kid to Baltimore to take in a game.

Don’t misunderstand where I’m coming from. I didn’t like the Expos any more than I like the Nationals. They were an opponent, and as such, they were my enemy for every inning that they got in our way. But a mature fan can take a step back and appreciate a permanently vanquished foe, even if we had nothing to with their ultimate demise.

I always had the deep-seated feeling we understood each other on some innate level. I’ve never gotten that feeling about the Mets and the Marlins or the Mets and the Phillies or the Mets and anybody else. Let’s just say the Expos and us, we were a good match.

By now everybody who cares knows the Expos’ first-ever game in 1969 was against us (they won) and that their last-ever game in 2004 was against us (we won). I’m guessing, though, it’s not common knowledge that we consistently traded victories back and forth in between. The Mets and Expos threw down 597 times. The final tally: Mets 299 Expos 298. The Seaway Series wasn’t decided until last October 3. For that matter, that finale was my 25th Expos @ Mets game. The Log tells me I went 13-12 against Montreal. Again, close as close can be.

Those who weren’t as intimate with the Expos as we were probably wouldn’t appreciate how good and how annoying they were over the final years of their lives. To the rest of the world, which stopped paying attention after 1994, Montreal was the touring cast of Les Misérables. The poor things didn’t have a home and didn’t have a chance, especially after being threatened with contraction and becoming wards of MLB. But to us, they were gnats long before they were Nats.

Dwell on the names that graced Expos rosters between 1995 and 2004 — besides Vlad and Vidro and a couple of pitchers who weren’t provincial secrets. They weren’t pitiful. They were low-rent assassins.

Rondell White…Mark Grudzielanek…Mike Lansing…Darrin Fletcher…F.P. Santangelo…Brad Fullmer…Shane Andrews…Michael Barrett…Peter Bergeron…Orlando Cabrera…Milton Bradley…Geoff Blum…Endy Bleeping Chavez.

Ordinary players? To the Braves, maybe. To the Phillies, perhaps. To us, they were in our face and up our ass every single series. There was no such thing as an easy Expos game. Whatever they lacked in resources or didn’t display in skill the other 143 days of the year, they almost always brought against us. The 1998 Wild Card would be ours if not for the Expos. There were at least four horrible losses to them at Shea that year (two in July, two in September) that couldn’t have come against anybody else.

And I miss them? Well, yeah, at least as a concept. It’s not like we get 19 free wins now. We still have to play the team that used to be them. By all indications, the Natspos/Exponentials will finally get sold and eventually get stronger. Then they’ll truly be just another opponent, something the Expos never quite were.

I’ve heard the actual National players thank their maker that they no longer have to be Expos. Given what they’ve endured, that’s understandable. But no Expos means we’re missing more than we quite grasp, much of it ethereal stuff that didn’t show up in the box score and sure as hell won’t now.

No Youpii. No empty lumber yard where 4,000 could sound like 40,000. No stories about Jeff Kent getting caught going through customs with a firearm because he plum forgot he was packing. No going through customs at all. No side trips to San Juan. No references to Boots Day or BOC-a-BELL-a or how the sun got in the eyes of the first baseman at Parc Jarry. No smoked meat on the menu. No “O Canada!” No “Our Home and Native Land!” No little “e” curling up and into a tri-colored “M”. No explanation that Expo stood for Expo 67. No cosmic link between a team named for a World’s Fair and a team that set up shop next door to one. No bond between expansion teams, one born the same year the other grew up. No shuttle that sent Clendenon, Staub and Carter south and Reardon north, each side going to playoffs because of those proto-NAFTA moves. No 598th game between the Mets and the Expos. No discovering at last who gets to 300 wins first.

Never mind Montreal. Our Expos don’t exist any longer. The 19 beats in the rhythm of the season that came with a French accent have been stilled. The Montreal Expos are latter-day St. Louis Browns now. They’re a nostalgia act, a featured item on the throwback-team page of the next memorabilia catalogue that comes in the mail.

But not to me. In my heart, they’ll always be on our schedule.

7 comments to WAS (Not WAS)

  • Anonymous

    You forgot the air horn. That to me was the true sound of Montreal. And I don't miss 'em a bit. Them or their 432 loyal fans who scattered around that godawful echo-y rink. I have been thoroughly happy for the Nationals — for the players who escaped the Expos, for the fans in DC who finally have a team (one that doesn't involve the pathetic excuse for baseball Peter Angelos fields, current standings notwithstanding), for our nation's capital finally getting a chance to watch our nation's pasttime. But that all ends tonight, when I wish them a swift kick in the ass from the collective Met spike.
    On another note, how great was “Leiter Fluid”? I have a feeling the News guys have been saving that one for years.

  • Anonymous

    I guess I'm not a mature fan, then. Because to me they'll always be the bleepin' Expos and there IS no difference between Brian Schneider and Brad Wilkerson. That list of low-rent assassins there STILL chills my blood, and putting them in red and slapping a “W” in place of an “M” doesn't change that. You can put Derek Jeter in a pinstriped suit instead of Yankee pinstripes, but he's still Derek Jeter. Put your kid in a SpongeBob costume for Halloween, but she's still your kid. The Nationals are just the Expos for a 6-month Halloween.
    I miss the “Expos” tremendously too. “Die, National!” doesn't have quite the same ring as “Die, Expo!” But maybe now that they're getting more ink, everyone else will finally catch on to the supreme evil that lives in those 25 slightly-higher-rent assassins who exist purely to f**k up our season every f**king year. The Braves, the Yankees… even the most casual fan knows to hate them. But to know the Expos, to hate the Expos, is to truly know what is to be a Met fan.
    Darrin F**king Fletcher. God, I hate him.

  • Anonymous

    And may I just add that only a seasoned Expo-hater/Met fan could have come up with that list… Greg, once again, you are to be commended. I felt like I had cockroaches crawling all over me when I read it.

  • Anonymous

    An objective analysis of the situation would conclude that baseball should have been in Washington all along. And, yes, I know people in the D.C. area for whom I'm very happy. That same objective analysis would conclude the Expo situation had become unworkable. But a piece of Mets history is gone and it saddens me. One of my pet peeves is the way baseball's memory hole as developed into a gaping maw. The Expos deserve a better epitaph than they've gotten.
    On the other hand, Al Who?

  • Anonymous

    Chris Fucking Nabholz. I'm still so upset about it, I can't bring myself to be decent and use the stars. The rest of his useless career, he gave up like a hit a minute. Chris. Fucking. Nabholz. C.H.R.I.S. F.U.C.K.I.N.G. N.A.B.H.O.L.Z.

  • Anonymous

    To which I have two words:
    Brian Barnes.

  • Anonymous

    Why name a team after such a non-descript, forgettable event as the Montreal Expo anyway?
    “New York Javits Auto Shows”
    No, should've been the Royals. As in the Jackie Robinson days. For Mount Royal. Mont Real.
    Which would have freed up Kansas City to pick something appropriate. There is not, and has never been, anything the slightest bit Royal about Kansas City. Missouri, unlike Quebec, never darkened the thoughts of the European monarchy.
    At least baseball didn't perpetuate the horrid practice of keeping a city-specific name on a franchise when it moved somewhere else. The Washington Expos would have been an atrocity. The NBA is king of this idiocy. We now have:
    Los Angeles Lakers. There is not a natural lake within 500 miles of Los Angeles.
    Utah Jazz. This has got to be the ultimate stupidity. Never has there been a less Jazz-like place than Salt Lake.
    New Orleans Hornets. Queer expansion team colors aside, this actually has some roots in history. Some English general in the Revolution denounced described Charotte as a rebel hotbed or “nest of hornets.” Flies or Mosquitoes would have been OK for New Orleans, I guess.
    In my NBA, I would force a 4 way trade:
    Los Angeles: Traded name “Lakers” to Utah.
    Utah: Traded name “Jazz” to New Orleans.
    New Orleans: Traded name “Hornets” to Charlotte.
    Charlotte: Traded name “Bobcats” to Los Angeles.
    That would restore things to some semblance of order:
    Utah Lakers (works even better than Minneapolis, who can keep their marketing-friendly Wolves)
    New Orleans Jazz (duh)
    Charlotte Hornets (a color change is needed, but this reverts to historical accuracy)
    Los Angeles Bobcats (which sucks. So this will then be changed to the Los Angeles Suck. Because they do).