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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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Getting to the Bottom of Things

The following account is issued as a public service as well as for cheap jokes. If you are over 50 years of age, please consult your physician.

Bartolo Colon was supposed to start Monday afternoon’s Mets game, but was called away due to a family health emergency.

I was supposed to have a colonoscopy during Monday afternoon’s Mets game and kept the appointment so as to ward off any family health emergencies.

Colon hadn’t missed any of his 24 Mets starts this year.

The last Mets game I missed in its entirety (not even a couple of pitches on the radio) was 671 games prior, on July 29, 2010.

Some things, like a family health emergency, supercede even a Mets game.

Some things, like a colonoscopy, you can put off for only so long before you realize you’ve scheduled yours to unintentionally coincide with a 12:10 camp day start.

I wish Bartolo Colon’s family well.

I wish my family well. My wife and my sister came with me to my thing and I greatly appreciate their support.

Mets games, despite one’s ability to guess in advance how they’ll turn out, are fun to look forward to.

Colonoscopies, despite your being repeatedly told they’re routine, are no fun to look forward to.

Some people prepare for a Mets game by throwing a great tailgate party, complete with awesome cocktails.

You might call preparing for a colonoscopy the worst tailgate ever. You don’t want to know what my doctor instructed me to mix into 64 ounces of Gatorade nor what resulted.

The Mets don’t seem to know how to manufacture runs.

After preparing for my colonoscopy, boy do I know how to manufacture runs.

The Mets wore those awful camo jerseys and caps today.

I had to put on one of those silly gowns today and leave it untied in the back.

Carlos Torres, taking Bartolo Colon’s place, threw the first pitch of today’s Mets game on time.

I showed up for my thing early, was eventually ushered into the room where they hook you up to an I.V. and waited well beyond my alleged 12:30 appointment time. After a while I felt so invisible I wondered if my gown was, in fact, camouflage.

Mets fans probably grumbled until the bottom of the fourth inning when Lucas Duda broke a nothing-nothing tie with his 22nd home run of the season.

I grumbled through more than an hour of waiting until my bottom and I were wheeled into the room where they do the procedure.

Kyle Hendricks of the Cubs, like most opposing pitchers, put the Mets’ batters to sleep.

An anesthesiologist put me to sleep.

In no time at all, the Mets and Cubs played seven innings of 1-1 baseball.

In no time at all, my colonoscopy — the actual business with the tiny camera — was over, and I didn’t feel a thing.

There would follow a bit of grogginess, some apple juice and a bit of bureaucracy keeping me from vamoosing once I heard my results (which were fine), but the important thing to my Met-addled mind was soon enough I was up, I was dressed and I had my phone out to learn that the score was tied after seven. On the way to the car, I divined it was 2-1, Cubs, now in the eighth. Once in the car, I turned on the radio to hear at least a small portion of my 672nd consecutive Mets game observed either in full or in part. I was home on my couch for the final three outs of the seemingly inevitable 4-1 defeat, yet another loss in which the Mets hit hardly at all.

I had a colonoscopy Monday afternoon.

The Mets played a baseball game Monday afternoon.

Hard to say which of us had the worse end of it.

17 comments to Getting to the Bottom of Things

  • Dave

    You Greg, are fine (glad to hear it, details aside). The Mets are not fine. You win, regardless of whether or not you enjoyed yourself.

  • chuck

    Dear Mr. Prince,

    As a fellow man of a certain age, I wish to offer congratulations on your successful “50,000 mile checkup.” Personally, I found the propofol nap to be the most awesome one I’ve had in probably the last 20 years. Too bad you apparently missed that.

    • There may be more money in performing endoscopies, but the place I went could do a side business in Nap Services and make a fortune. You’re right. I felt fantastic…at least before I turned on the game.

  • Matthew

    Big props for writing this whole thing and never succumbing to the siren song of the easy “Flushing” joke.

    • That’s because there are some depths to which I won’t plumb!

      (Actually, I think I had one but forgot to use it. When your team plays in Flushing, that sort of thing doesn’t seem so unusual.)

  • Kevin from Flushing

    Glad to hear all exams came back looking good!

  • Michael G.

    That you would schedule a colonoscopy on the day Colon was supposed to pitch, and that you would both be called away from your normal Mets activities for health-related reasons, was an amazin’ coincidence, I must say.

    Glad to hear your plumbing is fine.

  • The Jestaplero!

    Bartolo’s mother died, so maybe not appropriate joke fodder.

    I’m sick and tired of this team’s insipid offense. We desperately need to import a big bat at shortstop and an outfield corner. I’m also not sold on Mejia as closer. That’s all I have to say.

    • Michael G.

      Sorry to hear about Bartolo’s mother. No offense intended.

      • chuck

        63 is too early to check out. I’m very sorry to Bartolo Colon and his family for their loss.

        Mejia has a hernia, and as someone who has had two of them repaired, I can’t believe they haven’t shut him down yet.

  • Glad all is well. Had my first one last Monday. Came out of it, went home and found out Robin Williams died.

  • Will in Central NJ

    Greg, glad to read that your procedure went well. My own pre-procedure interview with the gastroenterologist is on September 2nd; my actual procedure will then be placed on the schedule for a future day.

    We all wish that the Mets’ on-field performance made for something more stimulating, and not akin to that propofol stuff. Who knew that we’d be pumping fists over a cumulative seven base hits? Sigh.

  • meticated

    ..congrats on the absence of anything…I’m a Baldwin Harbour alumni. .lived on Harding Ave and 700 Shore Rd LB…and we’re similar in age…I saw Gary Gentry and Nolan Ryan pitch from the 3rd base side of Shea and even made an appearance at the Polo Grounds but was too young to remember much…now living down under, but you’re my conduit to the Amazins. professional capacity as naturopath might be useful to you…Please email me for a lead to a nutrient that reverses irritable bowel safely and quickly…I’m quite sincere about this.