The blog for Mets fans
who like to read

ABOUT US

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.

Got something to say? Leave a comment, or email us at faithandfear@gmail.com. (Sorry, but we have no interest in ads, sponsored content or guest posts.)

Need our RSS feed? It's here.

Visit our Facebook page, or drop by the personal pages for Greg and Jason.

Or follow us on Twitter: Here's Greg, and here's Jason.

Move Over Angel Hernandez

Maybe you remember a game between the Pirates and the Yankees from two years ago, the one Jason Giambi won with a tenth-inning home run, signifying his return to the good graces of his loyal fans in the Bronx after he apologized for nothing in particular. Don't know if you recall the circumstances that sent […]

Foul Territory

I do not care for RFK Stadium, its short-term tenants, its deceptive power alleys, its resident closer, its proximity to potentially devastating news, its vast acreage from foul line to stands, its weird whammy on visiting baserunners, its Friday night blight on the Mets.

I do not like the Nationals in their house.

I do not like […]

Anything Less Than the Best is a Felony

If it’s the final Friday of the month, then it’s the fourth installment of the special Top 10 Songs of All-Time edition of Flashback Friday at Faith and Fear in Flushing.

In early September 1990, I didn’t know two things that would be quite clear to everybody else by late October 1990.

1) Buddy Harrelson’s boys — […]

Our Cocky Icons

Three of the cockiest icons in Mets history have each crossed the path of the Mets fan who's been paying attention these last 24 hours.
1) Pedro Martinez. Tells the AP he's gonna be back…back in the New York groove in the second half of this year and feel like he did when it was great […]

Rockslide

Oh that baseball, it is a funny game. One night it's as tense as can be. The next afternoon, it is ludicrous. A laugher for one team, an entity lacking humor for the other.
Joke's on us this time. When your best chance to stay competitive is to send Ramon Castro from first to home with […]

Squeals & Echoes

Have you ever squealed in the literal sense? An honest-to-goodness squeal? Like a pig?

Have you ever pursed your lips and let out an “oooh!” like you were really amazed?

Have you ever reflexively combined a squeal and an “oooh!” again and again? It might sound something like this…

SQUOOOH! SQUOOH! SQUOOH! SQUOOH!

That was me when Endy put […]

Best Bargain in Baseball

In the parlance of the pocket schedule, Monday night was a value date. Don't say there isn't truth in Mets advertising.
Five bucks for an upper deck ticket (Section 1!) bought the opportunity to watch the once, present and hopefully continuing first-place Mets easily quell the pleasantly pliant Rockies in an economical two hours and thirty-four […]

A Seat for David

I'll bet David Wright is in the lineup tonight. I'll bet David Wright, good health willing, will be in the lineup 158 times this year.
Would it kill Willie to sit him once in a while?
Boy is he pressing. I've never seen David look as lost as he does at present. Saturday, in particular, he seemed […]

Working Blue Doesn't Suit Me

When I first heard the name “Kelly Johnson” two years ago, I snickered the stunningly puerile snicker of one who had spent too many morning hours listening to Howard Stern.

Kelly = a shade of green.

Johnson = ah, you know.

It wasn’t funny then. It’s twice as unfunny after today. There’s nothing funny about a Kelly Johnson. […]

Ollie, Bomaye!

Oliver Perez was reborn Saturday as a control freak. May he remain obsessive, compulsive or whatever it takes to do repeatedly what he did today.

Six and two-third innings. Two runs. Nine strikeouts. No walks.

None.

Barely any balls at all…in the literal sense, that is.

Whatever became of the human WALK sign? That fellow (41 of 73 pitches […]