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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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Eastward Ho!

The best part about the Nationals sweeping the Cardinals in the NLCS, aside from the Cardinals being swept, is it left us plenty of time to get around to extending congratulations to our division rival on advancing to its first World Series. Washington won its first National(s) League pennant on Tuesday night, a week ahead of their next game. It’s Friday afternoon. As self-appointed representative of senior circuit partisans who know first-hand what it means to have rooted our ballclubs clear into the final set of games of a given season, congratulations already yet!

I’m mostly sincere in expressing good tidings down toward the heretofore flag-deprived fans situated within the general environs of the Tidal Basin. Every National League team’s fans, whatever their typical level of engagement and sophistication, should experience being in a World Series once, provided we can’t be in it every year. Once is fine for the Nationals (since we can’t be in it this year). If they promise not to make a perennial habit out of this, we can continue to cobble together something approximating graciousness clear up to Game One of the upcoming Fall Classic. Because the ALCS is still in progress, we might actually need them to maintain their winning ways. May it not come to that.

As the 21st Century dips toward 80% on its remaining battery life, I suppose it’s gone out of fashion to figuratively tip caps and shake hands and all that when the hands belong to those you spend six months absolutely despising. Was it always like this? I don’t think so, at least not instinctively. There have been 21 National League champions to emerge from the National League East since the division was formed in 1969. Five of those champs have been us. It won’t surprise you to know I rooted for us in 1969, 1973, 1986, 2000 and 2015. The five easiest World Series decisions any of us ever made.

In the other sixteen — fifteen prior to 2019 — I can recall sometimes being very pro-NL East delegation, sometimes being virulently opposed. As with most things in life, it’s depended.


The 1971 Pirates. Roberto Clemente sparkling in twilight. Willie Stargell at the height of his powers. Steve Blass before Steve Blass became a synonym for suddenly losing the ability to find the strike zone. An extraordinarily appealing supporting cast fronted by Manny Sanguillen and Al Oliver. Their charisma transcended any sense of rivalry. I was eight. It didn’t bother me that they finished way ahead of the Mets. The 1971 Mets had already been finished way ahead of by the time the 1971 World Series commenced. I wanted the Bucs to finish ahead of the Orioles, an entity I was still mad at from two years before. When they did, I was quite gratified as a baseball fan who keeps watching baseball despite the absence of his team oughta be.

The 1993 Phillies. This was a one-season infatuation, facilitated by the presence of Lenny Dykstra and the general Krukky demeanor of a team that won in a year when the Mets opted to not compete whatsoever in the National League East. Joe Carter’s home run that won it all for Toronto actually kind of broke my October heart. By 1994, I was over the Phillies and have stayed there ever since.

The 1995 Braves. It’s true. I used to really like the Braves. A couple of times. The early ’80s. The early ’90s. What did those eras have in common? At the time, it was the underdog element attached to an outfit that had been nowhere previously — and the fact that Atlanta’s startling 1982 and 1991 rises from ashes took place in the National League West. In 1995, the second year of three-division alignment (and the first with a postseason), I was still afflicted by residual goodwill for a perfectly amenable arrangement that had been only recently legislated out of existence. Finally, I thought when they beat the Tribe in six, the Braves got what they deserved. We certainly didn’t get what we deserved once it sunk in that they were in the NL East to stay.

The 1997 Marlins. God help me, I don’t know why I latched onto these store-bought Fish for their initial October run, but I did. They had the underdog/interloper aura, which I’m often prone to fall for, but the Marlins mostly purchased it at Neiman Marcus (or, given their South Florida locale, maybe Burdines). The owner, as all owners of the Marlins reliably are, was despicable. The fans materialized overnight. Their lineup featured Bobby Bonilla, for crissake. Yet I fell for them, or at least their quest. Expansion team simpatico. National League East solidarity. Jim Leyland getting to light up a victory cigarette. Who knows why one follows a postseason muse? When they took down the again unfortunate Indians in seven, I applauded. Perhaps the sound of my two hands clapping shook loose Al Leiter and Dennis Cook.

The 2003 Marlins. Different vibe six years later. The Marlins were a true out-of-nowhere team. Dontrelle Willis was a lovable kid. So was Miguel Cabrera. Juan Pierre was a frisky throwback. Josh Beckett had the liveliest of arms. Ivan Rodriguez was in the right place at last. Future 2007 Collapse participants Jeff Conine and Luis Castillo were solid contributors. They outwitted the Giants. They shocked the Cubs. And their World Series opponent made them all the more rootable. It’s been a while since anybody could apply such an adjective to any Marlin unit.


The 1979 Pirates. At age 16, I was fed up with the Mets finishing behind everybody in the National League East, so I took it out on the Pirates. Also, I had pulled from afar for the upstart Expos that season, and Pittsburgh short-sheeted that vicarious thrill. They went on to beat the Reds in the NLCS, which most years would have been fine with me, but this was when the Reds had Tom Seaver, and I was obligated to root for Tom Seaver’s team (he’d never again see the postseason). Hence, I was immune to the charms of “We Are Family,” et al. In the World Series, the AL banner was clutched by the Baltimore Orioles, who by this point I had come to appreciate as an avatar of ongoing excellence — especially after three consecutive years of the AL flag having flown in the Bronx. So I went with Earl Weaver’s O’s over Chuck Tanner’s Bucs. The Bucs, led by Pops Stargell, had other ideas and won in seven. Seeing as how it’s the most recent World Series celebrated by the denizens of where the Allegheny and Monongahela meet to form the mighty Ohio, that’s cool.

(Say, whatever became of the Montreal Expos?)

The 1982 Cardinals. I don’t think I’d ever had anything substantial against St. Louis until 1985. I just liked the Brewers more. Milwaukee used to be in the American League, you know. Anyway, I rooted for Yount, Molitor and the Crew. They lost in seven. If I had known in October of ’82 that the Cardinal first baseman would become the Met first baseman in June of ’83 and thrive as a Met icon forever after, I might have been happier for Keith Hernandez at his first moment of triumph.


The 1983 Phillies. Given their long track record of intradivisional success, I really hated the Phillies by 1983, but there they were, the NL East’s standard-bearer, and I got it in my head that if I was a fan of an NL East team, I should get behind my division’s champion. I think that came from reading something while I was in college to the effect of as much as you may hate your conference rivals, you have to root for them in their bowl game. My alma mater was in the Sun Belt Conference then and didn’t have a football team, so this was all very theoretical. I gave Rose, Morgan and Perez a shot of temporary loyalty. It didn’t go anywhere, as they fell in five to the Orioles (who I was back to resenting for having taken the ALCS from the White Sox, who I was about to have very mixed feelings about given their imminent plucking of Seaver). The Phillies would soon make the whole thing moot by generally sucking for the next decade.


The 1996 Braves. You were up two-zip on the Yankees. You could have nipped that whole fucking dynasty thing in the bud. But you lost the third game, the fourth game, the fifth game and the sixth game. Fuck you, Braves.


The 1999 Braves. The enemy of my enemy couldn’t be my enemy because the 1999 World Series was Enemypalooza. Still, I’d have preferred the fucking Braves over the fucking Yankees, though I have to admit that after the searing nature of the 1999 NLCS, I watched maybe a half-hour total of the action to confirm whether New York would be spared another goddamn parade. We weren’t. Thanks again, jerks.

(Delightful unintended consequence of the Nationals’ brand new pennant: No NL East franchise has gone longer without a World Series appearance now than the Atlanta Braves.)

The 2009 Phillies. Basically the same paradigm as 1999, except the Phillie-inflicted wounds weren’t so fresh, since the 2009 Mets had nothing to do with anything connected to anybody’s championship aspirations. Those Phillies did briefly harbor Pedro Martinez, thus I did have a Dykstraesque pang of nostalgia on his behalf, but otherwise, this was a fleeting allegiance of convenience. I was sorry the Yankees beat the Phillies; I wasn’t sorry the Phillies were beaten.

(It took ten years for another NL East rival of the Mets to ascend to the World Series. That’s what a division gets for getting on our bad side.)


The 1980 Phillies. Funny, as much as I loved Tug McGraw, I rarely drew any contemporary naches from his having been on the mound for the final out of Philadelphia’s first World Series championship. Years later, I was glad he got to have that distinction, but at the time, he was just a Phillie, and I despised the Phillies. That hasn’t changed. At the time, I really liked the Royals, who the Phillies defeated. That has changed a lot.

The 1985 Cardinals. This was really the first time the National League was represented by a team that had swiped its postseason ticket directly from the Mets. All the preceding NL East franchises to make it to the Fall Classic did so in years when the Mets weren’t close to first place. In 1985, we had first place in our grip in the middle of September. Then our grip loosened and the Cardinals pried first place away from us. Our attempt to wrest it back in the final week of the season fell short. By early October, my hostility for Whitey Herzog was unmatched by my hostility for any opposing manager before or since. By late October, when the good ol’ Royals took the World Series away from their fellow Missourians, I felt properly avenged.

The 1987 Cardinals. Not exactly the same trajectory or details or circumstances as 1985 (1986 had happened), but close enough. I still hated Herzog. I still hated the Cardinals. I still salute Minnesota.

The 2008 Phillies. There was a genuine pro-Rays streak running through my rooting interest eleven Octobers ago, but mostly I wanted the Phillies to crumble like Shea was going to: without another world championship. Nope, couldn’t even get that.


The 2019 Nationals. Should Houston do the right thing and build on their current three-one advantage in the American League Championship Series, I seriously doubt I’m going to get out of the habit of feeling Astronomically positive about their achievements. Shed of the sense that we automatically have to hate anybody we play nineteen times per annum, I get the feeling I might gin up a little enthusiasm for certain of the graybeards Washington has ridden this far, but the Mets do play the Nats a lot, and contemptuous familiarity takes a toll on objectivity. The Astros have beaten the Yankees in a recent ALCS and are trying hard to do so again; what have the Nationals ever done for me? Should Houston have a problem (sorry), and somehow the Yankees worm out of their playoff hole and land in the World Series versus Washington…

Like I’ve been saying for a while now, go Astros.

18 comments to Eastward Ho!

  • Seth

    Hey, good for the Nats. I still dislike them. The problem was that the Cardinals appeared absolutely deceased. Some competition would have been nice…

    Also, for their sake I hope the Nats are working out. I remember another series in 2015, where the National League East participant had a week off after the LCS, and it wasn’t particularly pretty.

  • Matt in DE

    LOVED the part about the 1996 Braves!
    Watched the NLCS and actually has semi-pro sentiments for the Nationals…still can’t get past 2006 Cardinals, perhaps.
    All I know, the Astros better close the deal or my head my implode.

  • Fred Stone

    “I’m mostly sincere in expressing good tidings down toward the heretofore flag-deprived fans situated within the general environs of the Tidal Basin.”

    uhhh, the Washington Senators of 1925 brought home the trophy against the Cleveland Indians.

  • Stan

    The 1995 Braves got my fandom as I had just recently moved to the south and for some reason there were tickets available to game 1 of the World Series. In the years after I got to go to my first World Series game at big round Fulton County Stadium, I learned that the Braves ALWAYS have tickets available, even though they keep building and moving to progressively smaller ballparks.

    Also, as a footnote, the 1980 Phillies had the distinction of putting mounted police on the field during the 9th inning and pretty much ended the tradition of fans tearing apart the field after a World Series win.

  • eric1973

    Back in the early to mid 70’s, I was very proud to hear the announcers say, until near the end of the 1976 season, that the Mets and Pittsburgh were the only NL East teams to win our division through 1975. I mean, the Mets were never worldbeaters, so that highly unbelievable fact always made me very proud, putting us in the same high echelon as the mighty Pittsburgh Lumber Company from 1969 through 1975.

    In 1979, I rooted for Baltimore over Pittsburgh, but looking back, since they had Milner, Foli, and maybe even Duffy Dyer, I am glad they won, in retrospect (I love that word).

  • Joeybaguhdonuts

    If the World Series is Yanks vs. Nats, it’s a replay of the 2009 Yanks & Phils: I root for cancellation after Game 6.

  • eric1973

    1980 Phillies – Greg, I know what you mean. I rooted for the Royals, but in retrospect, I am glad Tug played a major part and helped them win. But back then, Tug was just another guy to me. Like the 1979 Pirates, who had many ex Mets.

    1996 Braves – Back then, I worked near the Grand Hyatt, where the visiting players stayed. I would sit in the lobby during lunch and watch the players walk back and forth. So after that Series, the Braves got on the bus, and me and their catcher were looking at each other, and I gave him the finger, and I know he saw it.

    Side Note – I got up the courage to bother Jon Matlack for his autograph when he was the pitching coach for Detroit. We spoke for a few seconds about 1973, and he could not have been more gracious. Love that guy.

  • Dave

    List of non-Mets teams I remember actively rooting for in a World Series:

    Teams playing against the Yankees. Except 2009, when I was rooting for swarms of locusts, 40 days and 40 nights of floods, and a nationwide power outage.

  • Bob

    1996 WS – Barfs and that skankee catcher-Bad man, a very BAD man-to the cornfield…

    1987 Cards-will forever despise that rat who hit HR off Roger @ Shea late in Sept….

    Go Houston Colt 45s!–
    Actually met a guy at baseball field here in North Hollywood who was at game with his father & saw Rusty Staub hit his 1st career HR in old ballpark in Houston in 1963! When he saw my Met cap and I “tawlked” to him…& Rusty had just gone to Baseball Heaven…

  • 9th string catcher


  • Lenny65

    Y*nkees Go Home Day is like that feeling you get when the fiber supplement finally gets the job done…relief. They’re just so repugnant and vile, no fan base deserved a crushing walk-off series-ending loss more than those goons did. I grew up detesting them and everything they stand for but 2000 cemented it into pure unrepentant loathing. They could field a team of Eagle Scouts who all donate all their salaries to charity and will build fifty children’s hospitals if they win the World Series and I’d still root against them. They can go dry their drunken tears with one of their many banners and if they don’t like it, who cares? Today they’re just another also-ran.

    Which is why I’ll always have a soft spot for those wacky 2003 Marlins. Plus they won me some money, from a Y*nkee fan no less, which made it that much sweeter. That was one of those post-season runs that reminded you that all you need to do is get in and the possibility exists that you might win it all.

    And yeah, the 1999 Braves can go f*ck right off, thanks for nothing. They crush our souls then roll over and play doormat for them? Bah.

  • chuck

    My dad won his 1976 WS faculty pool because he was the only one who picked Reds in 4. I’m proud of him for a lot of things, but that was not the least of them.

  • eric1973

    Hey Lenny, 2003 was great!

    I was friends with the Marlins pitching coach at the time, Wayne Rosenthal, who I met in the lobby of the Grand Hyatt, and true to his integrity, he would not reveal to me that Josh Beckett would be starting that nite. Wayne played with Texas for a season.

    We were on the same PAL Little League team that won the Championship in 1976, mainly due to his superstar hitting and fielding, as a pitcher, catcher, and shortstop.

    Wayne had coached previously in Oklahoma City, and so had developed an Oklahoma accent, which sounded extremely novel for a Jewish kid from Canarsie.

  • This may be the rare time I root for a division rival, though I’m very grateful to Mr. Altuve and the rest of the Stros for their fine work in the ALCS.

    Generally speaking, I’m predisposed to root for the team who hasn’t won recently and I hate when I read about great players retiring and never winning (David, David, David?). The Gnats have a fun balanced team and without Harper, Murphy, and Werth – I don’t despise them much at all at this point, whereas I hated them the last 5 years or so.

  • 9th string catcher

    Ecch, Werth. What a cretin. And don’t forget Mensa member Papelbon

  • Daniel Hall

    My history of actually following the World Series and baseball as a whole is so brief, I can compile my entire record of WS rooting from memory.

    Year – pulled for – result
    2012 – Tigers – L
    2013 – Red Sox – W (to this day I have to laugh whenever Kolten Wong wanders into shot)
    2014 – Giants – W
    2015 – Mets – L
    2016 – Indians – L
    2017 – Astros – W
    2018 – Red Sox – W

    No clear pattern emerging here. But Go ‘Stros!