I don't know what the heck a rulebook expert like Bobby Valentine would have made out of what just happened in Atlanta. I don't know what the rulebook even says regarding a mess like that. But sometimes the best thing to do is put the rulebook aside and work it out like 12-year-olds would have — eventually — on the sandlot.

Which is what — eventually — happened.

1. OK, the ball was trapped. Bad call by Bruce Dreckman.

2. OK, Angel Pagan clearly passed Ryan Church on his way to a cancelled rendezvous between his foot and home plate.

3. OK, but Church had to stop and tag up once Dreckman's fist went up. He can't first assess whether random baserunners are speeding past his position.

And so … you could … but then again … and how about … You know what? Atlanta, get back on the field. Met runners, come here. Not you, Church — you go home. Pagan, you go stand on third. And we're not gonna talk about it anymore. Play ball already. I SAID WE'RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT IT ANYMORE!

You know what? Fair enough.

I'm only left with one question: Why do you never see both managers talking something over with the umpires? Would Cox and Randolph automatically start spitting on each other or come to blows? Aren't the arguments they'll make the same whether or not the other guy's in attendance? And isn't the explanation the same for both of them?

Ah, the mysteries of baseball.

Update: Tomorrow's Santana-Smoltz, shades of Pedro-Smoltz three years ago. All I'd like to commit to memory about today's crapfest is the promise of the game coming tomorrow, which I suppose kind of says it all.

Last night, en route to the rainout, Kevin Burkhardt interviewed T#m Gl@v!ne. It wasn't to check in on the wife and kids.

The transaction was predictable. Kevin, who I think does a very good job making something out of what could be a very superfluous role, tossed him an “I have to ask you this” softball about the inglorious end of his mixed-bag Mets career. Gl@v!ne spun into damage control mode with all the aplomb of a Mitt Romney or a Joe Biden demonstrating the kind of political skills that got each of them so far in his respective presidential bids.

Paraphrasing, Gl@v!ne said people were upset with him because he didn't say he was devastated…and reminded us that he and Christine have been busy fighting the scourge of childhood cancer and he understands what real devastation is, but sure he was upset, it was a lousy start, he couldn't sleep.

Thanks for clearing that up, big guy.

Burkhardt's question was a little awkward, making it sound as if millions of us had asked ourselves last September 30, “gee, do ya think T#m is devastated?” when in reality it was Gl@v!ne himself who introduced the d-word into the Met lexicon. We didn't care that you didn't say you were devastated. We were annoyed, maybe more than annoyed on top of how livid we were over your crappy pitching, that you said you weren't devastated. It's not a fine difference.

Once a person has casually brought up his admirable work on behalf of aiding the youngest victims of a terrible disease, he makes us look small for questioning any of what we perceive as his shortcomings in something so silly (yet strangely so lucrative) as baseball and its attendant reactions. But we're not biting. You say you didn't sleep much after that final game? Welcome to the rest of us, T#m. We have families. We have concerns. We — surprise, surprise — have lives outside the Mets. Yet we were whatever it was you said you didn't say you were. And we weren't compensated lavishly for any of it.

Old news, old wounds at this point. My only real interest in invoking Gl@v!ne these days is to hope Johan Santana devastates him and his teammates Sunday afternoon. Still, with Friday night rain having given me the void in which to contemplate it clear into Saturday morning, I do wonder if it could have been different there at the finish.

How?

Alternate History 1:

T#m Gl@v!ne pitches valiantly, the Mets lose, 9/30/07

We write of him something like…

You can't blame Glavine for this. Maybe for the two previous starts, but he came through like the pro and the Hall of Famer he is Sunday and I appreciate him more now than I did when he won his 300th, when he beat the Dodgers and Cardinals last fall. Yes, his two previous starts were killers, but whatever happens now — even if he returns to, yeech, Atlanta — we and he can go in peace. It hasn't been for naught.

Alternate History 2:

T#m Gl@v!ne pitches brilliantly, the Mets win, 9/30/07

We write of him something like…

So that's why we signed Tom Glavine a half-decade ago. So that's why you invest in two Cy Youngs and 242 career wins. So that's why you cast aside a generation of enmity and hand someone like that the ball every five days for five years. So that's why we're going to Philadelphia Monday afternoon for a one-game playoff. So that's why so many of us were wrong about this man.

Alternate History 3:

T#m Gl@v!ne pitches as he did, reacts differently, 9/30/07

We write of him something like…

Glavine sucked, but at least owned up to it. Geez, I didn't think anybody could look worse than I feel right now, but he appears to have taken this debacle pretty hard. I don't know that it helps matters — no, actually, I do; it doesn't — but as a footnote, it doesn't hurt to know that at least one of these players understands the dimensions of a disaster like this. It's almost like Tom is bearing the burden for the rest of us. Maybe he wasn't Manchurian after all.

There are better things worth imagining.

40: Tuesday, July 8 vs Giants

Ladies and gentlemen, as we welcome the team formerly known as the New York Baseball Giants into Shea Stadium, we are reminded of the links the Mets share with their forebear whose history is all too often overlooked when discussing the development of baseball as our national pastime and our Metropolitan passion. Look no further than the orange NY the Mets wear on their caps to understand that the road to Shea Stadium truly wound through the Polo Grounds, and that road began to take shape long before 1962. It dates to the 19th century and wraps around names like John McGraw, Christy Mathewson, Bill Terry, Carl Hubbell, Mel Ott and Monte Irvin to name just a few of the New York Giant greats.

Yes, the Mets and Giants, as the only two National League entries to explicitly represent the City of New York on a going basis, can be said to have sprouted from the same family tree. Yet it is just as true that they have grown apart over the years. Mets management looks forward to rectifying this historical oversight at Citi Field with the opening of the William A. Shea New York Mets Hall of Fame and National League Museum, an institution that will celebrate the rich heritage of the Mets, the Giants, the Dodgers, the Cubans, the Bushwicks, the Bridegrooms and almost every team that made a mark on Big Apple baseball. It will, in fact, be home to our own beloved Home Run Apple, on display forever more for fans to reach out and touch. It will stand as a symbol that where New York baseball heritage is concerned, the Apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

That said, the New York Mets and the San Francisco Giants are clearly separate entities and their shared history is that of opponents. And at no time in the 46 seasons that they have played each other has their competition cut so close as it did in October of 2000, when the Mets played and defeated the Giants in the National League Division Series, going ahead and clinching those playoffs right here at Shea Stadium.

To recall that most memorable of Mets-Giants showdowns, we have the two standout players from eight autumns ago.

• An instant fan favorite, he inscribed his name into New York postseason baseball history with a 13th-inning home run that turned the tide in that series. It was one of many dramatic hits he collected in four seasons as a Met, but none was bigger. Please welcome the outfielder from Honolulu, Hawaii and the inspiration for Benny Bean coffee, Benny Agbayani.

• Joining Benny to peel number 40 from the right field wall was a solid, occasionally spectacular starting pitcher for the Mets for eight years, including an All-Star season in 1997. The game with which he is indelibly associated, however, is Game Four of the 2000 NLDS when he threw a one-hit shutout against the Giants and secured the Mets a berth in that year's league championship series. A pretty fair righthanded pitcher from Fresno, California in his own right, say hello to Bobby Jones.

39: Wednesday, July 9 vs Giants

A great tradition at Shea Stadium in its first two decades, ladies and gentlemen, was the annual celebration of Old Timers Day. As the Mets were too new for too many Old Timers of their own, it always gave the club great pleasure to welcome back great baseball stars of the past, no matter what uniform they wore in their previous lives. In that sense, no ballpark in America could claim a better appreciation of baseball history than Shea Stadium.

One of those Old Timers Days in particular was a very special occasion. On July 16, 1977, the Mets crowned their ceremonies with a salute to New York baseball royalty, the four centerfielders who defined the position in the city before the Mets were born. It was a breathtaking moment to watch these four men, legends all, enter the field of play through — where else? — the center field fence.

Two of those centerfielders, Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle, sadly are no longer with us. But two are and both grace us with their presence today to remove number 39 one position over, in right field. One was a Giant, one was a Dodger, both were Mets and both mean the world to millions of baseball fans. With them is the songwriter who was inspired by a photograph of their appearance that Saturday afternoon to compose a tribute that turned into one of baseball's most famous musical odes.

Ladies and gentlemen, give a great big Shea Stadium welcome as they enter once more through the centerfield fence to the Say Hey Kid, Willie Mays, the Duke of Flatbush, Duke Snider and the author of “Willie, Mickey and the Duke,” Terry Cashman.

38: Thursday, July 10 vs Giants

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to this break in the action at Shea Stadium. There will be no additional fee should this game go into extra innings, but we will have to go a long way to match the bargain the fans at Shea Stadium received when the Mets and Giants matched up on May 31, 1964.

That was a Sunday and, as was the custom in those days, there was a doubleheader. One game ended. Another game began. And it continued. And continued. And continued some more.

Thirty-two innings of baseball were played at Shea that afternoon, evening and night, twenty-three of them in the second game. A day of baseball that began shortly after 1 P.M. ended at nearly 11:30. Another half-hour or so, and the Mets and Giants would have finished off May and played into June.

Needless to say, a lot of players saw action on May 31, 1964. We have several of them here today to remove number 38 from the right field wall.

The starter and winner for the San Francisco Giants in the opener, he's a Hall of Famer and has many friends and admirers here in New York. Ladies and gentlemen, the Dominican Dandy, Juan Marichal.

From the nightcap, the starter for the Mets, a pitcher who appeared in 62 games that season, setting a workload record that would stand for quite some time, Bill Wakefield.

An outfielder who hit .300 for the Mets in '64, his three-run homer in the seventh tied the score at six all and was the reason so many Sunday dinners went uneaten in the Metropolitan area that night. Say hi to Joe Christopher.

When a game goes long, plenty of pitchers take the ball, but usually one has to stay in and take one for the team. That job in this marathon went to the righty who gave manager Casey Stengel nine innings of relief. It was experience like this that helped make him such a valuable pitching coach in later years. Welcome home to Shea Stadium Galen Cisco.

If you think a day of baseball that lasts 32 innings can take it out of you, you're probably right. For one man who played that very long day, it would be his final day in the majors. Give a nice round of applause to one of the Mets' pitchers from the nightcap, an original Met, Craig Anderson.

And finally, as a bookend, we have another Hall of Fame pitcher, the winner in Game Two. He contributed ten innings in relief and though he might have had a little help from under the bill of his cap in settling matters that Sunday night, it was getting late and nobody complained. Please greet one of the greats of his time, Hall of Famer Gaylord Perry.

37: Friday, July 11 vs Rockies

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We hope you're enjoying the opener of this final series before baseball's All-Star break. The National League squad this year will be managed by Rockies skipper and former Met Clint Hurdle and we wish Hondo luck in securing home field advantage for the senior circuit in the 2008 World Series, wherever it happens to be played.

The All-Star Game has always held a certain magical spell over fans, particularly the young ones who thrill to see, for one night, all the greats of the game on the same field, especially the players from his or her favorite team on such a big stage.

To remove number 37 from the right field wall, we've assembled a galaxy made up of some of the All-Stars who have represented the Mets through the years. Joining us tonight:

• Twice the Mets' representative at midsummer classics, he rejoins the Mets payroll in 2011: Bobby Bonilla.

• Ten wins by the Fourth of July made him too good for Tommy Lasorda to ignore, welcome back 1978 National League All-Star Pat Zachry.

• He was the last Met to win 20 games in one season and, en route to that total, was called on to join the N.L. stars in Wrigley Field. Say hi to 1990 Mets All-Star, Long Island's own Frank Viola.

• A two-time Cy Young winner in the American League, he came to the Mets and demonstrated some of the best control the game had ever seen in 1994, winning 14 while walking only 13. No wonder he was an All-Star that season, Bret Saberhagen.

• He is co-holder of the Met record for most home runs in a single season and was named to the National League All-Star team in 1996 and again in 1997. One of the most popular Mets of the '90s, give a warm welcome to Todd Hundley.

• And closing out our All-Star salute is one of the great closers in Mets history. Best known for closing out the last Mets world championship, he held onto his glove in the 1983 and 1984 midsummer classics. Let's hear it for the southpaw who pitched forever. Ladies and gentlemen, Jesse Orosco.

36: Saturday, July 12 vs Rockies

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, on this late Saturday afternoon, scheduled as it was to accommodate our friends at Fox television. Because the Mets and Rockies are their Game of the Week, we are able to welcome back to Shea an announcer who honed his craft and became one of the best in the business during his sixteen years as a Mets broadcaster, a tenure highlighted by his work during the 1986 championship run.

A popular voice in New York and eventually everywhere — you might even say that oh baby, they love him — we have asked Tim McCarver to step out of the Ralph Kiner Television Booth for a few moments to remove number 36 from the right field wall. And to accompany him, we have three of his fellow announcers from that golden era of Mets baseball:

• He was Tim's and Ralph's partner in the Channel 9 booth from 1983 to 1989 and described the last out of the '86 division-clincher. Give a warm Shea Stadium welcome to Steve Zabriskie.

• He called one thrilling moment after another from the WHN radio booth alongside Bob Murphy in 1986 and later worked with Timmy on TV. One of the most recognizable voices in all of sportscasting, Gary Thorne.

• And a longtime colleague of Tim's who became known to Mets fans over SportsChannel, Fox Sports New York and MSG. Won't you make Shea Stadium rock one more time for Fran Healy?

35: Sunday, July 13 vs Rockies

It was 31 years ago this evening, ladies and gentlemen, that New York experienced a night like no other in modern times, a night literally and figuratively darker than any other. It was the night of the 1977 blackout and, wouldn't you know it, it plunged Shea Stadium into darkness smack in the middle of a game between the Mets and the Cubs.

To commemorate that most unusual event in Shea Stadium history, we've gathered some eyewitnesses…well, they'd have been eyewitnesses if they could have seen what was going on.

From the Mets bullpen, he was as in the dark as anyone else a little after nine o'clock that night, but his pitching always brought a little light to the situation. A terrific reliever and longtime member of the Mets organization, he helped engineer the Colorado Rockies' amazing pennant drive last season as their pitching coach, please give a warm hand to Bob Apodaca.

Umpiring from behind home plate and with no choice but to suspend the game after an hour-and-a-half when it became obvious the lights were not coming back on anytime soon, say hi to longtime National League ump Harry Wendlestedt.

On the mound and in his windup in the bottom of the sixth, he actually completed the July 13 game when the action was picked up again in September. Talk about a complete game: he went nine innings over two months! The Chicago Cubs' pitcher on the night of the great blackout of 1977 and a future Met, Ray Burris.

And leading our contingent of blackout veterans to the rightfield wall in broad daylight to peel number 35 from the wall, he was the Mets third baseman enjoying a banner season in '77 but had the misfortune of being at the plate when Shea went dark. His thoughts, he later related, were, “God, I'm gone. I thought for sure He was calling me. I thought it was my last at-bat.” Obviously, he had some more at-bats and plenty of life left. Please welcome home to Shea Stadium, Lenny Randle.

Numbers 46-41 were revealed here.

Turns out the Mets have guys who play and guys who pitch when Pedro Martinez is otherwise engaged. They're not so bad.

Season's back on, one supposes. Might as well put this .667 winning percentage and our remaining 159 games to good use. Get well, Pedro. See you when we see you, whenever they say that is plus however long it will actually be.

When you win by 13 runs — and we can say that as if it happens regularly because two of the Mets' last three wins have been thirteen-zip teal whitewashes if you don't gag at the thought of including the final weekend of 2007 — you have to dig pretty hard to find something to complain about…unless terrible umpiring is in your midst. Then it's easy.

Beltran's fifth-inning home run that was a double but was really a home run was a lot easier call with the benefit of replay than it was in real time, I'll grant the boys in blue that. But you called it right once, there was ample reason to not overturn it, the Marlins didn't seem to be arguing all that strenuously, so what the fudge? You have a Helsinki arms agreement conference and you overturn? You decide Beltran hit a double suddenly? You take a run off the board?

How do players not all act like Paul Lo Duca in that situation? Maybe it's because they're not all juiced like Paulie allegedly was at times, but still. When I saw mild-mannered Carlos Beltran and calm and reasonable Willie Randolph gentlemanly accept the revised and wrong ruling, I was ready to go Lo Duca on umpire Rick Reed's ass. Just on principle, mind you. It changed the score from 6-0 to 5-0, which is a rare baseball occurrence (I didn't know you could lose yardage in this sport), but even that wasn't the point. The point was you bastards had it right and you went out of your way to make it wrong.

I was ready to jump through the TV and strangle whomever's windpipe would give me satisfaction. That's when I marveled that more athletes don't do that, that more athletes don't take the Lo Duca route. If I had hit a handsome home run, I would want credit for it. I would not look kindly upon being called back from the adulation of my teammates in the dugout to have to stand on second while Carlos Delgado did not drive me in. I would thirst for justice.

When you wonder why ballplayers make so much money, I think much of it is for achieving an exalted mental state that keeps them from assaulting the necessary authority figures who grow worse at their jobs year after year. I salute Carlos Beltran for his self-control now much as I steamed at it last night. And I would suggest the Mets put someone like me on the bench to emerge raging mad at the next atrocious call so I and not and not one of their useful players can be ejected. Every team should have one. Call him the Designated Jerk. He gets thrown out, he gets suspended, he gets expelled, no problem. He's just the Designated Jerk. You can always find another one.

Though it goes against all my post-2007 impulses (and we are, as Mets fans, living in a post-2007 world), but the run that was removed didn't really worry me in terms of the outcome even if you can never be certain and all that. The Mets were not fighting in their weight class in this series, which, along with the tiny reality that it's only three games, makes it difficult to assess if the Mets are truly a .667 team, if Ryan Church is really a .385 hitter, if David Wright is going to steal MVP votes from Angel Pagan, if Ollie Perez will unanimously win the newly named Ollie Perez Award. That's the kind of stuff you can't seriously get a handle on until you've played a fifth, maybe a sixth game.

These Marlins weren't ready for prime time, or even the 4:30 start on Monday. That the Mets didn't sweep them is caution enough against not taking them seriously. We've gone into the two previous seasons with a bushel of dates versus teams that the experts deemed 1962 Mets in waiting. The '06 Marlins straightened up and went 78-84. The '07 Nationals stirred in the second half, managed to go 73-89 and won five of six in September versus a club that was lounging in first place. The '08 Marlins may suck at times but they will find ways to unsuck when we don't need them to. Thus, when Angel tagged up in the ninth to make it 13-0, I didn't want to hear word one about unwritten rules and rubbing it in. The Mets need to rub like there's no tomorrow and score as many runs as they possibly can. If you want to be a heavyweight, keep pounding.

They're off to a good start in that respect.

So was WFAN's broadcast last night. You know that thump-thump-thump montage of highlights they play as the introduction to every game, what is known in the industry as the rollup? Usually it's five clips from five slightly memorable games from the current season or, as it was on Opening Day, last season? Last night, expecting nothing special, I was blown away:

• Curt Gowdy called the final out of the 1969 World Series

• Lindsay Nelson described the jubilant mob scene at the end of the 1973 playoffs

• Bob Murphy announced the Mets were champions of the world in 1986

• Gary Cohen tracked the fly ball into Timo Perez's glove that clinched the 2000 pennant

• Howie Rose spontaneously combusted when David Wright drove in the winning run against the Yankees at Shea in 2006: “Put THAT in your books!”

The last time I was as unable to speak was when Endy Chavez climbed a fence against the Cardinals. It was as breathtaking as it was chilling and it was a perfect way to open a road game in Shea's final season (all of the aforementioned happened in Queens). I hope we hear more monumental moments from the past in that slot, just as I hope we hear great highlights from 2008…and that those are suitable for replaying in 2009 and beyond, too.

46: Monday, June 23 vs Mariners

Ladies and gentlemen, as we welcome in the Seattle Mariners, who have come a long way to play at Shea Stadium, we would like to pay tribute of sorts to those who got here from not so far away. As you know, Mets is short for Metropolitan Baseball Club of New York, a team founded to appeal to baseball fans all over the Metropolitan area.

Therefore, tonight we want to recognize several Mets players who grew up in these parts and eventually achieved a dream: Become a New York Metropolitan and play in front of the home folks right here at Shea.

Representing Connecticut, he was a high school phenom in Waterbury and a well-loved Met during his three seasons at Shea in the mid-1990s. Please welcome back Rico Brogna.

Representing New Jersey, he was born in Glen Ridge and starred at Parsippany Hills High School. He was respected throughout baseball as one of the best pinch-hitters and good guys in the game, say hi to Joe Orsulak.

Representing Westchester, from Mount Vernon, he goes down as one of the best players ever developed by the Mets, even if he went on to ply most of his trade in other uniforms. We’re glad he’s here with us tonight, give a warm hand to Ken Singleton.

Representing Long Island, out of Oak Beach, the man whose cap simply would not stay on his head. How about tipping your cap to the pride of Connetquot High School, John Pacella?

Representing Brooklyn, home to many great Mets not to mention a pretty good single-A team, we brought back a talented lefty who made a real mark during his four seasons in a Mets uniform. Let’s say hello to Pete Falcone.

Representing Queens, a schoolboy star from Bayside, he played for the Mets in the ’60s, in the ’70s and came back for more in the ’80s. The author of some memorable hits and great glovework around first base, welcome Mike Jorgensen.

And to lead our Metropolitan players up the right field line to take down number 46, we have someone who got to know Shea Stadium like no other player growing up. He didn’t only pitch here, he sold hot dogs here. Nobody could be more local than the Flushing Flash himself. Representing not only the neighborhood, but everyone who ever vended a frankfurter on behalf of Harry M. Stevens or Aramark at Shea, ladies and gentlemen, Ed Glynn.

45: Tuesday, June 24 vs Mariners

Ladies and gentlemen, given the edifice that’s steadily rising where much of Shea Stadium’s parking lot used to be, it’s no wonder we have urged you to take public transportation to every game. The irony that Shea was built with as much parking as it was, reflecting a time when the car was undeniably king without consequences, is not lost on Mets management. Today we are all more conscious of the need to conserve precious resources, which is why Citi Field will be a green facility and we’re not talking only about the outfield grass.

Of course being a city field itself, Shea Stadium never could have succeeded without the benefit of public transit, which for tens of millions of fans since 1964 has meant the IRT Flushing line, better known these days as the 7 train. The 7 is world famous because in a very real sense, it carries the world between Queens and Manhattan. More languages are spoken by more people from more places on Earth on the 7 than on any train anywhere. The Mets are proud to be a stop on so elevated a line.

To honor the integral role the 7 train has played in the history of Shea Stadium, we have asked Metropolitan Transit Authority chairman H. Dale Hemmerdinger to take the local out to the right field wall and remove number 45. And to escort him for a safe ride, we’ve invited back a quartet of Met motormen. Whoever the 7 didn’t drive home, these sluggers often did.

Please welcome these RBI specialists back to the Willets Point-Shea Stadium on the 7 line:

• He tagged National League pitchers for more than a decade and a half, including five with the Mets. He drove home 90 runners in 1983, say hello to George Foster.

• One of the real fan favorites in his Met prime, nobody was more colorful around the first base bag, particularly when he went into his home run trot. With 96 runs batted in from the 1978 Mets, how about a warm greeting for Willie Montañez?

• His Hall of Fame credentials were burnished by consecutive Met seasons in which he drove in more than 90 runs, including an even 100 in 1993. How about a hand for Cooperstown’s own Eddie Murray?

• And someone who can tell you that if you get off at the Willets Point-Shea Stadium stop, you can check out not only the baseball at Shea but also the site of the 1964 World’s Fair. He drove in a then-team record 117 runs in 1996 and two years later when some new uniforms were introduced, he became one of the Mets’ original men in black. Welcome home to Shea Stadium Bernard Gilkey.

44: Wednesday, June 25 vs Mariners

It’s good to have you at the game, ladies and gentlemen, and for those of you watching at home, it’s good to have you looking in. Sometimes you see things that the camera picks up before the folks here do, and as a result, some people become instantly recognizable outside of Shea Stadium. One such person experienced that phenomenon 22 Octobers ago when she added a new bit of body language to the fan vernacular. A longtime season ticketholder, you know her as the lady who sat behind home plate throughout the 1986 postseason and twirled her arms tirelessly. Put your hands together for Bo Field.

Some people catch even the camera crews at Shea by surprise. Our next guest, who will join Bo in taking down number 44, did not come through Gate A, B, C, D or E on the evening of October 25, 1986. Yet he found his way into the ballpark from above, however briefly. The Mets couldn’t officially approve of his actions then — and we’re certainly not sanctioning them or anything like them now — but we have to admit the thought of this man and his parachute brings a smile to our faces more than two decades later. Say hello to Michael Sergio.

43: Friday, June 27 vs Yankees

Ladies and gentlemen and guests who are joining us here tonight for the first time in 2008, this is the juncture in the game when we pause to pay homage to the people and events that have defined Shea Stadium across its 45 fun-filled seasons. But it turns out another nearby baseball stadium is also commemorating a final year, and we’d like to give it our own special tribute.

Since that structure opened in 1976, it has hosted many memorable ballgames and provided the stage for many a superstar. When we think of that place, we are moved to recall one evening in particular. The night was as historic as any in the annals of New York baseball and we have with us the pitcher who made it so.

His lifetime record as a Met at Shea Stadium was 14-13. But as a Met at the other place, he threw nine scoreless innings and collected a 6-0 shutout in the first-ever regular season Interleague game in the city of New York. Please welcome back to remove number 43, the author of that June 16, 1997 masterpiece, Dave Mlicki.

42: Saturday, June 28 vs Yankees

A good Saturday to you, ladies and gentlemen. Saturdays at Shea between the Mets and their crosstown opponents have always been special and have rarely failed to produce drama of the highest order.

The dramatics were never as intense as they were on the afternoon of July 10, 1999. In a back-and-forth affair that featured six home runs by the visiting team and one massive shot to the picnic tent roof by Mets catcher Mike Piazza, it was our special guest who will be taking down number 42 who brought down the house. It was his two-out single in the bottom of the ninth off the opposition’s closer that plated the tying and winning runs to give that particular battle of New York to the Mets by a score of 9 to 8. To everybody who was at Shea Stadium that Saturday afternoon, there is no question what game they saw. It was the Matt Franco game.

Ladies and gentlemen, pinch-hitter deluxe Matt Franco.

41: Sunday, June 29 vs Yankees

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been said in New York you’re either a Mets fan or you root for some other team. Few are the issues that can bridge the divide. But tonight we hope we can if just for the moment that it takes to remove number 41 from the right field wall.

More than a hundred men have played for both the Mets and their local American League counterparts. But nobody has been more celebrated or beloved by both fan bases than this man, who not played for but coached and managed both teams in a career highlighted by his piloting of the 1973 Mets to their improbable National League pennant. Accompanied by one of his many protégés, Willie Randolph — another man who has achieved a measure of success on both sides of the Triborough — welcome home to Shea Stadium the one, the only Yogi Berra.

Numbers 52-47 were revealed here.