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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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Not So Heavy Next Time

The studio has a few notes on the next installment of MY FAVORITE SEASONS, FROM LEAST FAVORITE TO MOST FAVORITE, 1969-PRESENT.

***
19. 1998
First off, we love the concept. The Mets as a team you go into the season having expectations for is fresh. I mean, it’s not like it hasn’t been done before, but it will feel fresh to this audience. Our research shows most of our potential ticket-buyers can’t remember the last time they entered a season thinking things would turn out well.

The end of the first act, where you introduce the superstar — unorthodox for timing, but effective. It might have worked better if you could have had him from the beginning of the story, but once you work him in there, he’s a blockbuster unto himself. We’re gonna put him on the posters and everything.

We like some of the supporting cast. The first baseman, for example, is a natural. The hard hat he wears everywhere is supposed to be what, his trademark? Whatever it is, it’s unique. We think it might test well. His hitting you shouldn’t change at all.

The rest of the infield is…interesting. Listen, we love the scenes where the shortstop fields. Those test off the charts. Well worth the special effects budget that I assume is needed to make him fly through the air. Could he be made into more of a hitter, though? Something to think about. His friend the third baseman plays well in his role, but we hear he has some versatility, and you might want to try him in the part of the second baseman. Nothing wrong with him at third, mind you, but we absolutely have to recast the second baseman.

For starters, and this is the superficial stuff, does the second baseman have to have a mustache? The superstar has a mustache. You really shouldn’t confuse the audience. One mustache grabs your attention. Two is…I don’t know, but it’s too hairy. Unless Charlie Finley is producing your picture, I don’t think the second mustache will fly. Even with special effects.

But never mind the face. The body is…I also don’t know, but it’s not that of a dynamic infielder. We need to recast. Or, better yet, take the third baseman — our test audiences really like him — and put him on second, where can form a relationship with the shortstop, and we find somebody else to play the third baseman. That could really make the infield a character unto itself.

Listen, you’ve got bigger problems in the outfield. You’ve got a motley assortment of players who don’t test well, players who don’t bring in the numbers, and what’s with the former star catcher in left field? We’re gonna have to talk about finding some new outfielders. We have a couple of intriguing names for you to look at later.

The starting pitching…people are not going to pay good money to see this starting pitching. They don’t dislike it, per se, but it’s not a draw. Fix that. Maybe you can get the bullpen in some of these scenes sooner. They’re more interesting. The closer who’s seen it all around here. The still-effective lefty journeyman who’s making his umpteenth stop on the circuit. The flaky one slamming that thing on the mound. We can merchandise that.

I know the closer has a mustache, but that’s OK. He’s a pitcher. The superstar is a catcher. They just can’t wear the same number is all.

We love the character of the manager. He’s just off-center enough to keep your attention, just good enough at what he does that he seems believable. Is he based on anybody real? The general manager, on the other hand, may be a little too slick. I don’t see the manager and the general manager co-existing in this story. Not that big a deal maybe.

What I’m really concerned about is the story arc. We have the expectations at the beginning, swell. We have the superstar arrive when he does, the crowd eats it up. Again, off the charts with the testing. Even the adversity the superstar faces. He’s gotta have some reason to brood on the poster, am I right?

You have the right idea about making this a story you can’t turn away from for the entire length of the picture. They’re trying to meet the expectations, which elevate in the middle of the arc, with the coming of the superstar, and they’re convincing everybody they just might if they can overcome their flaws, and the superstar and his mustache settle in, and the first baseman with the hard hat goes wild in his mild way, and that third baseman…maybe everybody calls him by a catchy nickname. The shortstop dazzles, even if he can’t hit…great. A couple of those starting pitchers come through. The debonair lefty tests well. The hardscrabble righty, too. I don’t know if you need the second pitcher from Japan, the…what’s he called? “Tornado”? Good nickname, but it could be confusing, like the mustaches. Yes, I know we signed off on him in concept, but we may have to rethink. It would be nice if we could call one of those starting pitcher characters “Ace,” but it might be taken as ironic. The flake reliever slamming the thing fits in any situation — we love that he’s used so often. Even that washed-up catcher who’s been exiled to the outfield who has one moment late in the picture moves the dials. You’ve got a lot of compelling scenes. Gripping, even.

But does the end have to be so goddamn depressing? The whole bunch engages you all summer and keeps you hanging on into September and then in the last week we’re supposed to deal with them doing nothing but losing? Then going home? It’s just so…heavy. People are going to walk in, expecting something light and uplifting and then you want them to leave in a mood? Maybe it’s more artistic your way, but it’s not commercial. For us to greenlight this project, we’re gonna have to meet in the middle.

Also, do we have to have two bands of villains shooting down the hopes and dreams? We’d rather there be either the haughty rival from down south that almost never finds a way to lose OR the even haughtier rival from the same city that literally never finds a way to lose. It’s too much to ask to have take on both of them. Very frustrating from an audience perspective. I know we have equity in miracles and all that, but c’mon.

Oh, and the wardrobe choice — black? Really? Stop trying to think like a marketer. Leave that to the professionals.

If you’re absorbing anything I’ve said today, you’ve got to work on the ending. And recasting those roles I mentioned. It’s not beyond hope, though. Far from it. If anything, you’re too close to not get this right. Make those changes we discussed, come back next year, and I bet we’ll have a massive hit on our hands.

PREVIOUS ‘MY FAVORITE SEASONS’ INSTALLMENTS
Nos. 55-44: Lousy Seasons, Redeeming Features
Nos. 43-34: Lookin’ for the Lights (That Silver Lining)
Nos. 33-23: In the Middling Years
Nos. 22-21: Affection in Anonymity
No. 20: No Shirt, Sherlock

1 comment to Not So Heavy Next Time

  • About that ending…I felt like it wasn’t fair, that it didn’t go with the rest of the season, yet I wasn’t completely naive to the feeling those last five games imposed on me, because I felt that way in ’84, ’85, ’87, ’89, and ’90. Those last five games felt like we were being unjustly punished…for just being Mets fans? And losing out to that franchise in Atlanta which always has their way with us when things are close. That’s gotta change eventually, right?