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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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Saving Ron Gardenhire (Instead of Tom Seaver)

This weekend, in honor of November 17 being Tom Seaver’s 63rd birthday, we offer you the following eleven pitchers…

Kevin Brown (not to be confused with the Kevin Brown who hit the wall for the Yankees in 2004 or the Kevin Brown who pitched two innings for the Mets in 1990), Ron Darling, Sid Fernandez, Wes Gardner, Dwight Gooden, Tim Leary, Jesse Orosco, Doug Sisk, Craig Swan, Walt Terrell, Floyd Youmans

..two catchers…

John Gibbons, Junior Ortiz

…seven infielders…

Hubie Brooks, Dave Cochrane, Ron Gardenhire, Keith Hernandez, Kevin Mitchell, Jose Oquendo, Eddie Williams

…and six outfielders…

Terry Blocker, Lenny Dykstra, Stanley Jefferson, Darryl Strawberry, Herm Winningham, Mookie Wilson.

We give you those 26 players because that’s what the Basic Agreement in effect on January 20, 1984 said we could do what we want with them. Every other Met was up for grabs.

In case you’ve forgotten or were never quite sure, the Mets and every Major League team were annually required to offer just about everybody in their organization to a monstrosity known as the free agent compensation pool. That’s what the 50-day strike of 1981 boiled down to: free agent compensation. Owners wanted direct compensation from the team that signed a free agent, but players objected because they feared it would limit their employment possibilities. The pool was the settlement. The owners wanted to protect somewhere between 15 and 18 players. The players wanted to protect 40. It wound up being 26 for a Type A free agent, 24 for a Type B.

And that is how we lost Tom Seaver the second time. Pitcher Dennis Lamp (Type A) left the Chicago White Sox as a free agent and signed with the Toronto Blue Jays on January 10, 1984. Ten days later, the White Sox were permitted to choose any player whose club did deem him unpoachable. They didn’t have to choose a Blue Jay. They could choose from any franchise.

The Mets franchise did not protect the Mets’ Franchise. The White Sox noticed and picked Tom Seaver to replace Dennis Lamp.

We get so worked up recalling M. Donald Grant, Dick Young and June 15, 1977 that we tend to gloss over January 20, 1984. Of course the seasons that succeeded the latter black date in New York Mets history were a vast improvement over what had come directly before, so it was easy to sort of look past the second Seaver debacle while we were contending again. The Mets won 90 games in 1984, so no harm done, right?

But it wasn’t any less of a spiritual debacle than the first time the Mets let Seaver go. The PR was bad and the competitive aspect wasn’t all that helpful either. It was shameful and disgraceful and incompetent. If Grant’s trade of Seaver in ’77 was unforgivably malevolent, Frank Cashen’s decision to gamble on Seaver not being chosen by another team in ’84 was criminally negligent. It had taken more than five years to bring Seaver back where he belonged. It took one quick year to watch him walk away again. Where once we got Henderson, Flynn, Norman and Zachry, now we got nothing but grief.

The worst part? Worse than no longer having Tom Seaver be a New York Met a second time? It’s looking at the list of players who were deemed more worthy of protection by the Mets than Seaver.

Mind you, Tom had turned 39 the previous November 17, so he wasn’t quite in Cy Young trim any longer. Still, he had given the Mets a pretty good show in 1983, beginning with his triumphant walk in from the bullpen at Shea on Opening Day. The W-L was tepid (9-14 on a 68-94 club) but the ERA was respectable (3.55) and the 231 innings were hefty — led the team, in fact. Plus he was Tom Seaver, a Hall of Fame head attached to a capable arm linked to a stature second to none among New York Mets.

“As soon as I got their list, I looked to see which kids they protected,” White Sox GM Roland Hemond said in Jack Lang’s The New York Mets: Twenty-Five Years of Baseball Magic. “But when I saw the list and saw that Seaver was not protected, I almost jumped out of my seat. Seaver, in my mind, was still a quality pitcher who could win ten or fifteen games. Where are you going to get someone who can guarantee you that? That’s the reason we picked Seaver.”

Still, if you had to choose between protecting 39-year-old Tom Seaver and 19-year-old Dwight Gooden (who turned 43 on Friday, though I contend he’ll always be 24-4), there was no question you’d go with Doctor K. You’d have to see some kind of doctor if you didn’t. Gooden, Ron Darling, Sid Fernandez…these pitchers were clearly the future of the team. Of course you wouldn’t risk exposing them in a draft, even one that was cockamamie.

But didja see some of the other names, names of Mets players who were protected instead of Tom Seaver? I do believe the acronym “WTF?” was invented for just this scenario.

As we are almost 24 years beyond Debacle II, we know a few things. We know it was right to hold Doc and Ronnie and El Sid in abeyance. We know you wouldn’t have dangled Keith Hernandez or Darryl Strawberry if your life depended on it. We know Jesse Orosco had just come off a legitimate All-Star season and was, save for Bruce Sutter, the best closer in the N.L. at the time. In January 1984, these six Mets were unquestionably untouchable and history bears out that designation.

That leaves twenty Mets considered less expendable than Tom Seaver. Two of them, Hubie Brooks and Mookie Wilson, had established themselves as regulars, though neither was quite untouchable at this juncture. Brooks was an adequate third baseman with not a lot of power. Centerfielder Wilson didn’t get on base enough for a leadoff man (new manager Davey Johnson would drop him in the order). But they were regulars and in the spirit of Hobie Landrith, you were going to have a lot of balls get by third and through center if you lost your starters at those positions. Hubie and Mookie had plenty of good baseball left in them, so we can’t argue with reserving their spots.

That brings us to 18 Mets, several of whom had shown promise in 1983. Doug Sisk — don’t laugh — was a sharp setup man in his first full Met year. Somebody had to get the ball to Orosco in 1984, and Sisk would indeed be very good at that for a while. Junior Ortiz was considered something of a coup when he was acquired the previous June, an outstanding defensive catcher who was penciled in to get most of the work behind the plate in the coming year. Jose Oquendo was just a baby, having turned 20 in ’83 and had longtime starting shortstop written all over him. Walt Terrell, while not in the sensation class of Gooden, Darling and Fernandez, showed flashes of dependability in his midseason callup (and, as everybody who was a sentient Mets fan then probably remembers, he hit three homers as a rookie).

Let’s give Cashen those four players in the context of January 1984, which leaves us 14 Mets to consider instead of Seaver. Really 13, because before you can say “Craig Swan was clearly washed up by 1984,” he had a no-trade clause, which made him poolproof. So you couldn’t replace Seaver with Swannie on the unprotected list even if you wanted to.

Some guys clearly look like very bad choices in hindsight, but let’s try to think in January 1984 terms. Five of the remaining 13 protected players had been top picks in a fairly recent June amateur draft. Just as you wouldn’t take a chance on giving up Strawberry (1980) or Gooden (1982), it was reasonable for the Mets to keep their hands on Eddie Williams (their No. 1 and fourth in the nation in 1983) and Terry Blocker (same status, 1981). You could argue they were not genius picks in the first place, but that’s another story. You can’t risk them while they’re still practically in utero. Likewise, Stanley Jefferson (’83) and John Gibbons (’80) had been first-round picks in years when the Mets had a surfeit of first-round choices. Those two still had a real shot at big league success.

The other top June pick was Tim Leary, the Mets’ first selection in 1979, a hard-throwing righty who had gone through all kinds of arm-rehab hell to get back in the Mets’ plans by 1984. In fact, he was supposed to become Tom Seaver once and, as he was only 25, perhaps again.

So let’s give the benefit of the doubt to not making available these five youngsters thought to have high ceilings entering ’84. That brings the total down to eight players the Mets protected instead of Tom Seaver. Since I don’t think we have to think too hard about Lenny Dykstra and Kevin Mitchell given what they would contribute in short order and become in the long term, we’re really down to six Mets. Let’s examine them individually.

Floyd Youmans was a second-round amateur pick the same year Gooden was selected in the first round. In fact, he was Gooden’s pal. He hadn’t put up hellacious numbers in the minors like Doc, but he was the same age as Dwight. You can’t be risking Floyd Youmans in January 1984.

Herm Winningham was the Mets’ first pick in the old January amateur draft in 1981. He swiped 50 bags at Lynchburg in ’82. That’s a lot of stolen bases in an era when speed was highly valued. You can’t be risking Herm Winningham in January 1984.

Kevin Brown, one of twelve different Kevin Browns who have been drafted by Major League clubs since 1981 if not nearly the most famous of them, was a first-round January pick in 1983. In his first professional season, at Columbia, he struck out 221 batters in 170.2 innings. Though he would never rise above Double-A, you can’t be risking this particular Kevin Brown in January 1984.

Frank Cashen is pardoned for those three. In fact, he’s pardoned for everybody mentioned in the preceding paragraphs, which encompasses 23 of the 26 Mets who were protected instead of Seaver. Some contributed big-time to the Mets of ’84, ’85 and especially ’86. Three — Brooks, Youmans and Winningham — helped bring Gary Carter to the Mets, not a bad historical consolation prize if we’re talking Mets Hall of Famers. Some did nothing but sure looked like they’d do something. You can’t fault Cashen for not having the clearest crystal ball on the block.

But the remaining three? The three who had to be kept at arm’s length from the White Sox instead of Tom Seaver? Ensuring their continued Metliness in lieu of Seaver’s was worse, worser and worst. In terms of risking Tom Seaver, they were January 20, 1984’s Worst Decisions in the World.

1) The Mets took precautions to reserve Dave Cochrane instead of Tom Seaver. Who the hell was Dave Cochrane?

Dave Cochrane was a third base prospect chosen in the fourth round by the Mets in 1981. He wasn’t quite 21 on the day Tom Seaver was plucked by the White Sox. Would have Dave Cochrane been chosen instead? Cochrane did show pop in the low minors: 22 homers in 70 games at Little Falls in ’82, then 25 in 120 at Lynchburg. Of course he struck out more than 100 times in both seasons. The Mets had Hubie for third base, though as mentioned, Hubie wasn’t much for homers. Hmmm…you know, the White Sox would eventually accept Dave Cochrane in a trade for Tom Paciorek in 1985 (the Jeff Conine of his day, as our friend CharlieH put it to me this past September), but that seemed more an out-of-it team dealing a veteran for whomever they could get swap than Dave Cochrane as holy White Sock grail. Cochrane’s Met stock dropped like a rock after Howard Johnson came aboard. It kept dropping as Dave journeyed through five American League seasons, accumulating about 500 at-bats with the Sox and Mariners and homering only eight times. Couldn’t have known that in ’84, but scouting’s got to be worth something.

The Mets were never satisfied with Hubie Brooks or third basemen in general, yet here we have to go with hindsight. It was a bad call to protect Cochrane over Seaver.

2) The Mets took precautions to reserve Wes Gardner instead of Tom Seaver. Who the hell was Wes Gardner?

Wes Gardner is the first Met prospect I can recall being groomed (or at least hyped) as a potential closer. Drafted in the 22nd round of the June 1982, draft, the righty struck out around a batter an inning at Little Falls and Lynchburg, saving 15 while used exclusively in relief in 1983. He would be 23 in 1984, when he eventually made it to the big club off a big year at Tidewater (20 saves, 1.61 ERA). It was almost foresightful of the Mets to think in terms of cultivating a reliever instead of just converting a failed starter. I almost can’t blame the Mets for being certain they would hold onto him. I can definitely understand the attraction. And Lamp, the guy who started all the trouble, led the White Sox in saves in ’83 with 15. Chicago needed to replace him.

But freaking Wes Gardner proved to be freaking Wes Gardner when he actually got a chance in New York, and if you can remember freaking Wes Gardner when he got his chance, you know he was totally freaking Wes Gardner. After 37.1 mostly dispiriting innings in ’84 and ’85, Wes was shipped north to Boston as part of the deal that brought us Bobby Ojeda. As the Red Sox had tired of Ojeda after ’85, I have to believe Gardner wasn’t the make-or-break element of that key trade. It was a bad call to protect Gardner over Seaver.

3) The Mets took precautions to reserve Ron Gardenhire instead of Tom Seaver. We knew who the hell Ron Gardenhire was.

And you have to be totally kidding me that Ron Gardenhire was protected from the compensation pool instead of Tom Seaver.

For that matter, Ron Gardenhire was protected instead of Calvin Schiraldi, Mike Fitzgerald, Brent Gaff, Tom Gorman, Wally Backman, Brian Giles, Ed Lynch, Mike Torrez, Rusty Staub, Danny Heep, Ron Hodges, John Christensen, John Stearns and George Foster to name a whole bunch of 1984 Mets who, whatever their perceived liabilities that January or in retrospect, I would have protected over Ron Gardenhire. The Mets protected Ron Gardenhire over Dave Kingman, who was still rotting on the roster in wait of his inevitable release, and I would have kept Kingman — no matter that he was completely obsolete as a Met after the acquisition of Keith Hernandez — over Gardenhire.

Ron Gardenhire hit .062 for the Mets in 1983. He drove in one run. He stole no bases. He lost his shortstop job early to Oquendo. What was clever on his part that year was by getting demoted to the Tides, he wound up catching the eye of Davey Johnson, who totally dug his spit and vinegar. Ron Gardenhire remastered Triple-A in 1983 after having done the same in 1981. Gardy became a Davey special in ’84, like Backman, like Kelvin Chapman, like Jerry Martin. He hit .246, ceded short to Rafael Santana after an injury (before Santana got hurt and gave way to Brooks who had given way to Ray Knight at third down the stretch) and wasn’t a regular or semi-regular again. Where the unforeseen revival of the Mets in 1984 is regarded, Gardenhire wasn’t on the same map as Wally Backman, was less of a help than the shockingly resuscitated Kelvin Chapman and not that much more of a factor than the legendarily useless Jerry Martin, no matter how much spit and vinegar he displayed at Tidewater a year earlier.

He would eventually become a heckuva manager for the Twins, but protecting Ron Gardenhire over Tom Seaver was a hellaciously bad call by the Mets general manager. Cochrane and Gardner at least had promise attached to them. Gardenhire had peaked in the minors and hadn’t proven anything in the majors.

And who the hell, given the chance to peruse 25 organizations’ depth charts, was going to skip over everybody else available in all of baseball to grab a 26-year-old middle infielder of limited range in the field and no particular accomplishment at bat? Admittedly, the White Sox were no great shakes at short (though the combination of Scott Fletcher and Jerry Dybzinski had just helped them to a division title in ’83), but they did have Ozzie Guillen developing in the minors. In other words, there was no legitimate chance in this or any life that Chicago would have chosen Ron Gardenhire instead of Tom Seaver…or any of the couple of thousand players left unprotected by every other club. None.

And even if they had, so what?

But the Mets protected Ron Gardenhire and left Tom Seaver hanging on the vine. And as Seaver himself would learn in his future endeavors, you always pick the most enticing grape you see. The White Sox thrived on starting pitching in 1983, and adding Tom Seaver figured to make them that much stronger. It didn’t, but it wasn’t Seaver’s fault. Seaver went to a new league and won 15 games in 1984 and 16 more (including his 300th) in 1985. Even at ages 39 and 40, he clearly had Amoco Unleaded left in the tank.

The Mets, on the other hand, had to improvise those two years among a series of fourth and fifth starters, none of whom — Lynch, Leary, Torrez, Bruce Berenyi, Rick Aguilera chief among them — was a better bet than Tom Seaver at that stage of their careers. Aguilera was the best of them, winning 10 games in ’85, yet when it fell on his young shoulders to keep the Mets alive in the final week against the Cardinals…well, imagine you could throw Tom Seaver in a pennant race instead of a visibly nervous rookie.

There was a mid-’80s narrative that suggested the absence of Seaver accelerated the arrival of Gooden, but it’s hard to imagine the presence of Seaver would have impeded the arrival of Gooden for very long. The kid was too much of a phenom to be kept down on the farm. Imagine that phenom and that Hall of Famer on the same pitching staff in ’84 and ’85 and maybe ’86 and ’87.

In the aftermath of Debacle II, Don Fehr of the Players Association told Murray Chass in The Sporting News that Seaver’s involuntary transfer “indicates that everybody would have been better off if they had left everything alone” where free agent compensation was concerned. “The system forced the Mets to make choices they didn’t want to make. The system put the Mets in a position to make choices and run risks. It’s needless and it’s silly.”

Soon enough, everyone basically agreed the Basic Agreement could do without the compensation pool. It died in the next negotiation…but not before any chance that Tom Seaver would finish his brilliant career as a Met, win his 300th game as a Met, pitch in another World Series (or two) as a Met and enjoy an uncomplicated retirement as a Met died as well.

Dennis Lamp was a good pickup by the Blue Jays. He went 11-0 for Toronto’s division winners in ’85. And I curse his name every time I see it.

18 comments to Saving Ron Gardenhire (Instead of Tom Seaver)

  • Anonymous

    Heck, I'm all for any post that's even a little bit about Gardy. He's definitely keeping better Santana company these days, though.
    For now, anyway.

  • Anonymous

    Brilliant! And I booed Dennis Lamp every time I saw him. My buddy Rich insisted that treating Lamp that way was unreasonable and unfair. I knew it wasn't his fault. But somebody had to pay, and it was Lamp.

  • Anonymous

    Of course I'm with your buddy Rich (I am who I am). But that's still one heck of a funny post. LMAO!

  • Anonymous

    Given his body of work and the intelligence and savvy he consistently showed, I've long believed that Cashen knew perfectly well what he was doing when he exposed Seaver in the compensation pool. It was a no-lose situation for him. Either he kept the still capable Seaver or lost his considerable (for the time) salary and would then be able to turn the page and begin a new era in the least painful way possible (as trading Seaver a second time would be unfathomable).
    That 1984 team was Davey Johnson's team with many of Davey's minor leaguers and Keith's veteran presence. It may never have been thus had Seaver, by nearly all accounts a pretentious, surly prick, remained.
    This event is not compared to the 1977 trade for a very good reason.
    Had Cashen not done it, I think there's a very real possibility that there's no championship in 1986.

  • Anonymous

    “Body of work and the intelligence and savvy he consistently showed” is a phrase I would just as readily apply to Tom Seaver in 1984 as Frank Cashen, pretense, surliness or prickdom notwithstanding. I'd take that whole package and put it on the mound every fifth day and then take my chances that the house Davey was building wouldn't fall apart as a result.
    We've been told for years by Keith Hernandez and others that starting pitchers aren't players per se, that they do their own thing. If we are to believe that (and I have no reason not to), I don't know how Seaver was going to get in the way of “Davey Johnson's team” reaching its potential. (And nothing but good things came out of Chicago and Boston regarding Seaver's presence on those teams.)
    I don't think Cashen knew what he was doing in that case. I think he got caught with his pants down. It was sloppy and it didn't have to happen (not for bleeping Ron Gardenhire's sake), and if it wasn't clearly detrimental to the fortunes of a club that improved very nicely with Davey's reclamation projects and several young pitchers and a full season of Keith Hernandez, it was a blunder. The turned page and new era were never about ridding the Mets of Tom Seaver.

  • Anonymous

    Cashen was by no means infallible (see Samuel, Juan) but I cannot believe he protected the likes of Gardenhire because he forgot about Seaver (as an aside, going through your list of “phenoms” it's clear we've seemingly never been able to draft worth a shit. Terry Blocker. Sheesh)
    Seaver and Johnson were peers. That Seaver was a good soldier in Chicago and Boston is neither surprising nor relevant; in both places he was a respected veteran, not “The Franchise” and victim of M. Donald Grant thus less likely to attempt to throw his weight around.

  • Anonymous

    I just don't know what weight he was going to throw around. Ron Darling today says, presumably because he means it, that his month alongside Tom Seaver in 1983 was most valuable to him. Would have another year or more helped his career? Would have he cut down on walks based on Seaver's observations? Would Seaver have told Darling to stop trying to be so fine, advice which might have carried weight coming from Seaver? I don't know, of course, but I have no reason to believe Seaver would have campaigned against Johnson or sabotaged Mel Stottlemyre. Yes, Tom and Davey were peers and that might have been awkward, but they had never been teammates and I'm not aware of any mutual antagonism other than they were both rather headstrong (so are a lot of players and managers).
    I do believe it was a calculated gamble, based on the contemporary explanations. Why wouldn't the Mets protect that vast farm system of theirs? Why would the White Sox, with lots of pitching, take a 39-year-old icon from somebody else? As Hemond said, because he could pitch. Cashen miscalculated…unless he was diabolically clever as you suggest. The Cubs nearly lost Ferguson Jenkins in a very similar situation. I forget who the White Sox lost as a free agent, but the year before, as compensation, they planned to pick Jenkins, the hometown idol returned (a la Seaver). Bowie Kuhn convinced Reinsdorf not to do this to the Cubs who were still finding their footing under Tribune Company and they went in another direction. There was clearly precedent for risking a pitcher of that caliber and seeing what might happen. Cashen decided to protect youth at all costs and got burned (or rewarded, by your reckoning).
    One assumes Gardenhire was on the list at Johnson's insistence. Whoever decided Ron Gardenhire couldn't be risked was misguided, whether we're viewing it through the prism of 1984 or long after. Ron Gardenhire was David Newhan without the flowing locks and outfielder's glove. And there is no way he is lost in that draft. Hemond had 24 other rosters from which to raid if the non-Seaver choices on the Mets' unprotected list didn't appeal to him. It was either a bad call by Cashen or total evil genius.
    Either way, Terry Blocker…yeesh.

  • Anonymous

    Re: Jenkins precedent, I got the spirit of the episode semi-right, the details somewhat to mostly wrong. This from a Bleed Cubbie Blue reader:
    Interesting anecdote: During the period when Jenkins returned to the Cubs (in the early 80s), MLB rules at the time had a “Free Agent Compensation Draft,” in which a team that lost a free agent could draft an unprotected player from another team. It was this way, for instance, that the Sox got Tom Seaver.
    Anyway, after the '82 season, [Dallas] Green somehow neglected to protect Jenkins, thereby leaving him exposed. At the time, two teams could have claimed him — the White Sox and the Orioles. The Chicago papers recognized this and there was quite a lot of egg on Green's face, knowing that the cross-town rival could steal Jenkins out from under him. The Sox hinted that they weren't interested in Jenkins, but were coy for the moment.
    Ultimately, with the threat of losing Jenkins looming, Green was forced to make a trade with the White Sox — dealing Dick Tidrow, Randy Martz, Scott Fletcher, and top prospect Pat Tabler in return for Steve Trout and Warren Brusstar. The next day, the Sox chose Steve Mura from the Cardinals as their compensation pick. Ultimately, the deal was instrumental to both teams' division winners in '83 and '84.

    The Sox perspective from
    January 25, 1983: White Sox send pitchers Steve Trout and Warren Brusstar to the Cubs for infielders Scott Fletcher and Pat Tabler along with pitchers Dick Tidrow and Randy Martz. (Author’s Note: Perhaps Hemond’s greatest deal. Roland used the free agent compensation rules that were in use at the time to inquire about getting Cubs future Hall Of Fame pitcher Ferguson Jenkins whom they left unprotected. Cubs G.M. Dallas Green got word of it and quickly made this deal. Part of it was the promise by Hemond that the Sox would not take Jenkins. Fletcher and Tidrow were important parts of the 1983 team. Tabler was then traded to Cleveland for Jerry Dybzinski adding another part to the club.)
    FYI, these are both terrific sites.

  • Anonymous

    Begs the question. How well did Seaver and Hernandez get along when both were on the Mets ?
    Seaver came back for the '83 season. Hernandez was acquired June 15, 1983. Seaver had a reputation for being a strait arrow. A Marine. Hernandez was rumored to be a cocaine user. I recall he testified at the trial of a Pittsburg drug dealer.
    Did they get along ? Who did Cashen value more ?

  • Anonymous

    In Keith's diary/autobiography If At First, he said Seaver welcomed him to the Mets with a hearty/laconic “welcome to the Stems,” as in the Mets are so dismal at the moment, you can spell it backwards. Never heard of anything dissonant between the two and they always worked well as a broadcast crew.

  • Anonymous

    What efforts did Cashen make to get Seaver from the ChiSox ?

  • Anonymous

    It was a wintry Saturday morning, my first year in college.
    Dorm phone rang. It was my mother. She said, “You're not gonna believe this: the headline in this morning's Times says 'Mets Lose Seaver.' ”
    Me: “What? No way! Not possible…!”
    It was basically the same conversation we'd had the morning of December 9, 1980, when she told me John Lennon had been killed…

  • Anonymous

    This debacle was the closest the Mets ever came to losing me. I made it thru '77 because I was ten and at least we got some (crappy) players back, but this was just inexcusable. It seems hard to believe any sentient baseball executive could leave a first-ballot HOFer unprotected and assume he'd still be around. For what little it's worth, I do vaguely recall a Cashen interview where he copped to just that, citing Seaver's high salary, thinking no one would take a chance on an old, expensive guy whose main value was hometown gate attraction. I doubt we'll ever know the truth.
    I rooted against the Sox in '05 just because of this. The wife pronounced me “nuts”.

  • Anonymous

    Johnson, in Bats, lets on that a remorseful Cashen had a deal lined up for a second Seaver re-acquisition in 1985, which Johnson wanted no part of, not wanting to disrupt his vision of a young five-aces rotation.
    Wtih Seaver in the rotation for even part of 1985, and Aggie taking the load off of Sisk in the pen, it's hard to outline a scenario where they don't win the division — depending, of course, on who the Mets would have given up.

  • Anonymous

    I was in Hallandale, Fla. for a family birthday gathering that weekend. Opened the Satuday Miami Herald and there was a short wire-service story. Mets Lose Seaver to White Sox or some such headline. Transporting myself back to that moment, I still can't believe it.
    PS: My sister broke the other news to me the morning of December 9, 1980. She, who is no music fan whatsoever, said word-for-word exactly what I was thinking: “Now they'll never get back together.”

  • Anonymous

    Seaver was making in the neighborhood of $1.13 mil at the end of his career. Hard to remember that that was big money for baseball circa 1984.
    I rooted for the White Sox in the 2005 World Series, but now you've got me reconsidering (actually, no, because Roger Clemens was on the Astros in the present).

  • Anonymous

    Probably Cochrane, Gardner & Gardenhire!

  • Anonymous

    Y'know, on further recollection, I was also rooting against the Astros because of Clemens. One of those deals where you'd like both teams to lose somehow.