We can kick the Cardinals' ass. But they can kick ours.
And that, mis amigos, is the essence of faith and fear as regards what might happen next in Flushing, St. Louis and potentially Flushing again. In 20 months on the beat, I've never had the opportunity to apply our signature concept in such stark, significant terms.
A potential pennant would seem to require it.
FAITH These are our Mets, winners of 100 games to date, rampagers of the East, sweepers of the Dodgers. Our team, our time, our et al.
FEAR Those are the Cardinals, perennial contender, loaded with experience and gamers.
FAITH We were a platinum-level contributor to the Cardinal collapse that sent them reeling practically out of sight in the last six weeks of the regular season.
FEAR The team we swept in late August isn't quite the team we'll face. Ineffective Isringhausen and Mulder are gone. Edmonds is back as much as he can be.
FAITH Delgado, Lo Duca and Wright did some mighty fine hitting in the Dodger series. The odds figure Reyes and Beltran will join them.
FEAR Who's to say that even if the guys who got only a few hits or a lot of walks “step up” that the guys who ruled the LDS won't slump? Beltran doesn't seem to be 100% healthy and didn't Reyes take a shoulder in the knee from Furcal?
FAITH We have a great bullpen. It's the bedrock of our success.
FEAR Our starting pitching is our starting pitching. Can Glavine be as good as he was in Game Two of the last round, which was very darn good? Can Maine be stretched? Can Trachsel now give one of those “see, he can be effective” efforts? Oliver Perez? And will the gate fall off the bullpen from overuse and if so, will it be a metaphor for Guillermo Mota's right arm?
FAITH Willie has made almost all the right moves. He's a smart manager and his calm is reassuring.
FEAR Will he adapt when La Russa pulls a squeeze? Will Willie ever try something like that with players like Reyes and Chavez? Will that characteristic Randolph stubborn streak seem less like patience and more like being caught napping?
FAITH Reyes is the difference-maker on the Mets. Eckstein may be a pest, but Jose can run all day.
FEAR But on Yadier Molina? Remember how Mike Matheny cut his hand on the eve of the 2000 NLCS? He had a great arm and I broke one of my own commandments and was thrilled to hear he was out before I realized that was bad form and that we didn't run much anyway. Is Somebody getting even for my taking pleasure in another's injury?
FAITH If Cliff can move, he can play. We saw what he could do in the Division Series and it was almost like having our 2005 Monsta out of the cage.
FEAR If Cliff can move, will he fool Willie/Omar into putting him on the roster only to go down? It's a hypothetical to say we could have beaten L.A. without him. Maybe we could have, but the truth is we didn't. He was a part of it all. I love Endy, but Floyd's bat was hot at just the right moment. I guess we'll know more later this morning. Damn I hope he's well enough to play, but I also hope he's not just well enough to make the roster and then an early exit. (And I hope his spot, if it's not his, isn't occupied by Ledee or Milledge or Hernandez or DiFelice, which is tough since those are essentially the only options I can fathom.)
FAITH Where Albert Pujols is concerned, the only faith I have is that as good as he is, particularly against us, that we have overstated the case for him because, well, he doesn't hit 1.000 against us — it only seems like it.
FEAR Cripes. Pujols. We haven't gotten him out his entire career, though his numbers this year were mostly from one game…which means he's due.
FAITH There's only one Pujols on that club.
FEAR Scott Spiezio, Preston Wilson, an 80% Scott Rolen, that wannabe thug Ronnie “I'm Not Rafael” Belliard, lucky Gary Bennett…every one of them gives me night sweats (it's night and I'm sweating). You don't have to be Albert Pujols get a big hit against the Mets.
FAITH Jose Vizcaino wasn't on their NLDS roster.
FEAR Jose Vizcaino continues to breathe.
FAITH No lefties in the Cardinal rotation.
FEAR They all laughed at Christopher Columbus, but not as much as at Kenny Rogers, who recently proved the skeptics wrong. Jeff Weaver is Kenny Rogers' spiritual nephew and there will be a tendency to write him off. Don't. He can pitch.
FAITH By the time we see Chris Carpenter, we could be up 2-0.
FEAR We could be down 0-2 when we see Chris Carpenter.
FAITH We haven't waited this long to not last longer than this.
FEAR Each team remaining in the playoffs has waited since the 1980s to win another World Series. Somebody will be throwing off the shackles of a veritable eternity. We're no more inherently “owed” this than the Cardinals, Tigers or Athletics.
FAITH I've watched these New York Mets virtually every day since April 3 and they've provided a brand of rethrilliency unmatched in team history. They hit better than any team we've ever had. They pitch better than they should. They close like nothing we've ever had. We have star players, role players, special players. We have a T-E-A-M that has earned our love and respect, as evidenced by the Great Wall of Emily. As a bonus, we saw them muddle through a couple of leaden weeks and bust right out again — and we saw them blow a lead in their last playoff game and storm right back to win it. If they play like they can, which they usually do, nobody can beat them. That is why they will win the National League pennant in between four and seven games.
No fear.

Even though it's an off day, there a ton to report regarding the Mets.
• Willie Randolph is still the manager.
• Fred Wilpon has made no announcements on or off the record regarding Willie Randolph's status.
• Third baseman David Wright figures to be batting in his usual spot in the order when the Mets play the Cardinals in the first game of the National League Championship Series.
• Shortstop Jose Reyes gets along with him.
• First baseman Carlos Delgado will be at first base.
• Jose Reyes gets along with him, too.
• The NLCS starts Wednesday evening in New York City.
• Home of the Mets.
• Who are managed by Willie Randolph.
• Still.

The Cubs have been the Mets' fiercest foes at various intervals in our history. And the Braves have been our enemies and obstacles for what was, until a couple of months ago, a very frustrating decade. But our only true sustained rivalry was the one we dug in for against the St. Louis Cardinals.
It doesn't exist as a meaningful going concern anymore, but from 1985 to 1988, Mets-Cardinals games had extra juice, thanks primarily to the Cardinals' success in the odd years. We'd take our revenge in '86 and '88, blowing them out of the Mississippi early and often, but '85 and '87 were duels to the divisional death. And we died both times.
Find a Mets fan who was sentient in the middle to late '80s and you'll find a Mets fan who has never quite gotten over those two N.L. East races that didn't go our way. Never mind that 1986 built on 1985 and gave us, as the video says, a year to remember. Never mind that the Mets recovered quite nicely from their failure to repeat in 1987 by lapping the field in 1988. For those who remember it — and those who never forgot it — the Cardinals occupy a psychic space as wide as the hole on the left side of the infield during a Carlos Delgado at-bat.
It was a long time ago. A very long time ago. I didn't see Willie McGee patrolling center against the Padres Sunday night or Todd Worrell challenging Mike Piazza in the eighth or Jack Clark handling the final out that sent St. Louis back into our world starting Wednesday night. The Cardinals who made us miserable in two out of three seasons when we were at our franchise best no longer exist. No Whitey Herzog checking bats or juggling relievers. No Tommy Herr stunning us with unprecedented power. No Vince Coleman stealing unabated on Gary Carter. No John Tudor grimly striking out Darryl Strawberry. No Cesar Cedeño or Dan Driessen emerging from the scrap heap to stab us in the heart with the final shards of their expiring careers.
No Terry Pendleton.
It was a long time ago. And it doesn't matter. But c'mon…you thought about it. The first words that came to mind after the Cardinals advanced — at least after Pujols…sheeeeyit — probably involved some aspect of the two years whose shortfalls prevented us from touching genuine dynasty status.
I spoke to a friend after we beat L.A. Saturday night, one who pointed out the possible trifecta of revenge looming. By defeating the Dodgers, he said, we got even for 1988. Now, if St. Louis advanced to the LCS, we could get even for 1985 and 1987 and then, if it's us and Oakland in the World Series, there's a chance to make up for 1973. Um, yeah, I said, but we already did that in 2000, didn't we? We won the pennant over the Cardinals six years ago. I know we did. I was there. My friend supposed so.
But still.
I understood. We came within a total of four games — two against them in '85, two against them in '87 — of winning four consecutive division titles back when that sort of thing was nearly impossible. McDowell gets his sinker down; Jim Kaat doesn't tip off the White Rat that Cedeño could still hit; John Mitchell keeps it together for one more inning on Monday Night Baseball; Kid gets around on Jeff Lahti…take your pick. That area above the rightfield wall could be very crowded had just a few more things gone right.
Yeah, it was close in '85 and '87, but the only Garcia y Vegas in sight were the ones given away on Channel 9. It was tough enough hearing our salt-of-the-earth heroes labeled Pond Scum by the allegedly civilized Midwestern masses, the same ones who booed Keith Hernandez (nice trade, pretty boys) and dumped beer on Lenny Dykstra. It was much worse being the Pond Scum that didn't rise to the top. With due respect to years when we missed the playoffs at the hands of the Cubs, the Braves, the Pirates, even the Marlins, missing the playoffs those two times because of the Cardinals remain the craw-stickingest misses of them all.
Mind you, that hole in our history is indisputably irrelevant as we attempt to accomplish ever greater feats in the here and now. The Busch Stadium we'll enter this weekend isn't that Busch Stadium anymore. Realignment has made us strangers on a train, with us visiting them and them visiting us just once per annum. And the revenge fantasy should have been sufficiently quenched in the five games that won us a flag in 2000.
Yet, it's the Mets and Cardinals playing for the biggest prize immediately available. We hated them. They hated us. I imagine everybody who watched then can figure out how to do that now. And aren't we, at least the fans, the sums of all the seasons that have come before?
So welcome back, Arch rivals. Here we Scum again.

The inaugural Faith and Fear in Flushing shirt order has been placed — and soon a big box of shirts will arrive at Jace's house. Yay! Gulp!
Thanks to everybody who said they wanted a shirt. In the next day or so we'll send you all a note asking for a mailing address and telling you how/where to send payment. (In most cases, the shirts will cost $16 delivered — those of you with bulk orders or who live in exotic locales, we'll figure it out.) If you've had a change of heart, no hard feelings — life is an uncertain business, and we'll understand if a shirt seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago but now not so much. Just let us know when we contact you. Otherwise, we're hoping the shirts will be in your hands within three weeks or so.
That said, a plea: We're a pair of crazy bloggers, not an e-commerce company. We're going to have a frightening number of packages to bring to the post office. And it's October and the team we all love is one of the four left standing.
We'll do our best, and we promise we'll make everybody happy, at least as far as shirts are concerned. (We can't help with calves, Achilles tendons or the outcome of sporting events.) But please remember we're way out of our element here, and be patient with us if you can.
And now back to putting the hoodoo on Albert Pujols and the Cardinals….

The inaugural Faith and Fear in Flushing shirt order has been placed — and soon a big box of shirts will arrive at Jace's house. Yay! Gulp!

Thanks to everybody who said they wanted a shirt. In the next day or so we'll send you all a note asking for a mailing address and telling you how/where to send payment. (In most cases, the shirts will cost $16 delivered — those of you with bulk orders or who live in exotic locales, we'll figure it out.) If you've had a change of heart, no hard feelings — life is an uncertain business, and we'll understand if a shirt seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago but now not so much. Just let us know when we contact you. Otherwise, we're hoping the shirts will be in your hands within three weeks or so.

That said, a plea: We're a pair of crazy bloggers, not an e-commerce company. We're going to have a frightening number of packages to bring to the post office. And it's October and the team we all love is one of the four left standing.

We'll do our best, and we promise we'll make everybody happy, at least as far as shirts are concerned. (We can't help with calves, Achilles tendons or the outcome of sporting events.) But please remember we're way out of our element here, and be patient with us if you can.

And now back to putting the hoodoo on Albert Pujols and the Cardinals….