Welcome to the beginning of the second decade of existence for Faith and Fear in Flushing, or to put it in reverse and observe it from the more comfortable perspective of the rearview mirror, today is our tenth anniversary. We signed on the blogging air on February 16, 2005 , looking ahead not ten years but maybe ten minutes. That particular Wednesday was the day everybody’s two favorite life forms, Pitchers & Catchers, were reporting to Port St. Lucie. Infielders and outfielders were sure to follow , and we decided it sure might be fun to follow the lot of them as they prepared for the season ahead.
We did that and we stuck with them through the 2005 campaign and we did it again the next spring and the next season and we kept going and in between seasons and games and innings we managed to muse and reflect and recollect and occasionally guess what might reveal itself down the road…though honestly not so much with the looking ahead, because you never know, so why pretend? One game at a time, set against the tapestry woven by 43, now 53 previous Met seasons, was enough for us.
Ten years after the first FAFIF day, I can confirm that this has been fun. It’s been pretty much the most fun I’ve ever had as a writer or, when considered on a going basis, most anything else. Nearly every time you’re reading me here, you’re in on a continual highlight of my life. I have this baseball team that it’s never occurred to me to try to shake and I have this means of communication for expressing my thoughts on their actions and, thanks to you, I have an audience that chooses to read what I have I have to say. That’s as good a deal as a Mets fan could hope for. That’s Parsons-for-Grote good.
How many other places in this universe could I casually reference the 1965 trade of a pitcher who never made it for a catcher who became the Met backbone for a generation and not have to explain it to death? No wonder I like doing this where I like doing this for whom I like doing this.
We didn’t set out toward a decade of blogging. It just happened, the way the Mets kept happening to each and every one of us once we first discovered them. You know how it goes: you find the Mets; then you like the Mets; then you are drawn to others who like the Mets so you can talk about the Mets. Then you don’t stop. If you do stop, you’re not reading this, anyway, so I feel safe in generalizing.
Why stop? Because the Mets have been, shall we say, less than successful? So what? Would we possibly appreciate as we do the periodic better days without the climb up and out from the recurring muck? Granted, we could do with less muck, but maybe we’ll be out of muck and full of luck soon enough. In February, that’s the best guess to make if you’re inclined to guess at all.
And if Met things don’t amount to the paradise we wish them to be once this year’s Pitchers & Catchers and infielders and outfielders sort themselves out, you’ll still have Faith and Fear in Flushing. We just keep happening that way.
Over the course of Spring Training, when we’re not breathlessly analyzing side sessions and agility drills, we’ll fill the inevitable lulls with a series of retrospective pieces revisiting the defining moments, stories and personalities of the past ten Met years, a time — win or lose — I’ve found absolutely fascinating to cover from this perch. And on Saturday afternoon, March 28, we invite you to join us at Foley’s NY  for a little tenth-anniversary celebration where we’ll meet, we’ll greet, we’ll eat and I wouldn’t be surprised if we drink. And of course we’ll talk Mets baseball, just like we do on your screen. More details on that little event as we move inexorably forward here in what has slowly yet suddenly become our second decade.
We’re so very glad you were part of the first one. We’re thrilled you’re around to help us get started on the next one.