In the course of a season, one makes choices. Whether one can enforce his choosing is another matter.

For example, it was quite human-natural to decide whom we wanted to play when — when, not if; ah, 2006…do you really have to end? — we made the postseason. That it was a nonbinding referendum was beside the point. If our choices had any impact on any of our fate, we'd be brandishing 44 rings (baby).

In any event, I'm sure we all made hypothetical choices. We sure didn't want to play the Cardinals, the only team with a real chance to knock us off. Until we probably wanted to play the Cardinals, barely hanging on as we speak. We also didn't want any part of the pitching-rich Astros, preferring to play some hitting-impaired outfit like, uh…the Astros. The Giants and all that experience (creaky bastards). The Reds and all that scrappiness (callow bastards). The Diamondbacks and Webb (and nobody else).

Bring 'em on!

I mean keep 'em away!

It doesn't work. The Brewers were on my radar a long time ago as dangerous. They fell off it almost as long ago, but you know what? I still wouldn't want to play them in the playoffs. Unless they were who was put in front of us. Then it's, you know, let's beat the living crap out of the Brewers.

All of which brings us to our last hypothetical of the regular season. We know we're not going to be playing an N.L. Central team in the first round and we know we won't have anything to do with San Francisco, Arizona or Colorado. And because we won't play anybody from the East at any point (au revoir at last, Philadelphia — who knew waving the white flag would very nearly succeed?), that leaves us one from Column LA and one from Column SD.

Dodgers or Padres? Padres or Dodgers? By tonight, we'll know how the NLDS sets up. Right now, it goes like this:

• The Padres beat the Diamondbacks, we play the Dodgers.

• The Padres lose to the Diamondbacks but the Dodgers lose to the Giants, we play the Dodgers.

• The Padres lose to the Diamondbacks while the Dodgers beat the Giants, we play the Padres.

What to do, what to do? And for whom to root, for whom to root?

I'm not good at this. I know I'm supposed to be wanting to keep Houston from sneaking in for several reasons, starting with Clemens the Juicer, continuing with that fucking funhouse full of yahoos and ending with my longstanding personal animus for all things Astro. But they were playing the Braves last night, and the Braves are still the Braves (technically speaking). Plus, damn my editorial impulses, the Astros have been quite a story. Wouldn't it be something to see this Houston-St. Louis thing go into double-secret overtime? Then again, this is no occasion to be kibitzing from the balcony. Self-interest is all that counts. I don't want to deal with Houston in the second round if there is a second round for us.

And now that I've said that, I don't want it posted on the bulletin board in the home clubhouse at Busch Stadium. Or that of the Western Division team that might beat either one of them.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I'm not good at this. I don't think it's healthy to take sides in battles that don't superdirectly concern you as long as you have skin in the game. That make sense? Well, consider our so-called choices.

I don't want to play the Dodgers. They are one of the three teams, along with the Phillies and Astros, that stuck around in the last month who reminded me of us when we were just dangerous enough to do marvelous things in '99 and '00. They have an odd mixture of Hall of Fame locks and candidates (Maddux, Kent, Garciaparra), all-time gadflies (Lofton, Drew, Furfuckingcal) and guys whose names half the time escape me but always seem to be doing something to somebody (like that catcher and that closer and who knows who else). Plus there's the requisite recent ex-Met who is lurking in the weeds and ominously blowing bubbles, Marlon Anderson. He'll want revenge. Beware storylines like that and like all those ex-Red Sox showing up but not Pedro. The ghosts of '88 also figure to hover.

I don't want to play the Padres. The ex-Met factor is off the charts, of course (Cameron sure has gotten hot), but there's a more frightening reason: They don't frighten me. We saw them seven times this year, three times less than two months ago plus I've seen them a good bit on Extra Innings, yet I still fail to retain who's on that team. Try as I might to get into a tizzy over Jake Peavy and Chris Young and Woody Williams and that fuck David Wells, I keep defaulting into “yeah, but they're Padres,” which is stupidthink. Trevor Hoffman became righteously reviled here for a week in July, but can you really hate Trevor Hoffman based on an exhibition? Before his unhelpful All-Star meltdown, I carried a vague admiration for Trevor Hoffman based on his not being Mariano Rivera. As for their bats, besides our old Mikes (and Manny Alexander), there's Brian Giles and that first baseman for whom I accidentally rooted for a portion of one plate appearance when Piazza was visiting and Klesko, I think, but maybe not that irritating shortstop who's been hurt but definitely that second baseman whose father was once traded for Al Leiter. He really killed us in April (the second baseman, not Leiter). And that other catcher who fills in for Piazza like clockwork late in games. And I'm sure I'm leaving out tons of guys who can hurt us.

I'd avoid the Dodgers and the Padres if there were a more appealing option, but taking our division title and going home would actually rather suck. So later today, after the two Western qualifiers sort themselves out, I'll be waiting at the proverbial airport to theoretically chauffeur to Shea the National League Wild Card winner. Finally we can stop being hypothetical and start rooting for us and against our definitively determined Division Series opponent.

Whatever is said about aces who are hurting, third starters who are in personal transit, rookies who are grating on veteran nerves and first basemen who are mysteriously sitting from “soreness” (say, isn't what Delgado has what Beltran had before it was a quad?), we just showed for the 96th time in 2006 that we're a team I'm pretty certain nobody would freely choose to play.

But it's not like they have a choice in the matter either.

Luckily, YOU can choose to purchase a Faith and Fear t-shirt. Just a couple of days left to place your order before they go back in the vault. We're like Disney that way.

Rotator cuff. Surgery. This week. Out. Eight months.
Go Pedro. To a full and healthy recovery.

Rotator cuff. Surgery. This week. Out. Eight months.

Go Pedro. To a full and healthy recovery.

We contacted several Baseball Experts and asked them to explain to us how the Mets might cope with the loss of Pedro Martinez. Like most Mets fans, Jason and I watch the Mets just about every inning, but we're not Baseball Experts and neither are you. Thus, we should rely on Baseball Experts to tell us what might happen with the Mets next even though the Baseball Experts didn't necessarily pay much attention to the Mets all season. They are, after all, Baseball Experts. Here is their report.
LINEUP: Pedro Martinez will not be pitching for the Mets, so no amount of runs generated by the Mets' offense in any of their games will mean anything.
DEFENSE: Without Pedro Martinez striking out every batter the Mets face, Mets' fielders will likely be overworked and overtaxed.
BENCH: Pinch-hitters and late-inning replacements will be too overwhelmed by the absence of Pedro Martinez to perform effectively…as if it matters.
STARTING PITCHING: Pedro Martinez was going to pitch Games 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. The Mets now have five gaping holes in their rotation.
BULLPEN: Counting on being well-rested due to the 11 shutouts Pedro Martinez was sure to throw in the postseason, Met relievers are now far too tired to fire a single strike.
MANAGER: The loss of Pedro Martinez will drive Willie Randolph to distraction. Willie had been counting on his ace pitcher to twirl the first no-hitter in Mets history and hit a couple of grand slams in Game 1 of the NLDS and repeat the feat continually, peppering in perfect games and cycles along the way. Perhaps Joe Girardi could make something of this mess, but Randolph is clearly up against it.
INTANGIBLES: Don't be fooled by the presence of others on the roster. The Mets were a one-man team in 2006. Pedro Martinez electrified their attack by leading off, tripling, stealing bases and scoring at will. Pedro Martinez elicited chants of “MVP!” for his team-record slugging and awesome centerfield play. Pedro Martinez grew into one of the best two-strike hitters in the game. Pedro Martinez was a rock behind the plate and surprisingly solid in the No. 2 hole. Pedro Martinez filled the gap in the cleanup spot beautifully. Pedro Martinez was an ideal fourth outfielder. Pedro Martinez came out of nowhere to take over second base. Pedro Martinez provided wise counsel based on his nearly 30 years in the game. Pedro Martinez led the team in saves. Pedro Martinez set up the closer. Pedro Martinez took the starts of pitchers who couldn't start. Pedro Martinez negotiated one great personnel acquisition after another. Pedro Martinez scouted the opposition and provided foolproof intelligence. Pedro Martinez uncannily waved every runner home safely. Pedro Martinez affixed a gigantic baseball to his head and entertained the fans between innings. Pedro Martinez sold delicious sushi on the field level. Pedro Martinez showed you to your seat. Pedro Martinez sang six different national anthems without missing a note. Pedro Martinez built the new stadium all by himself and provided plenty of parking during construction.
CONCLUSION: No need to provide one. The Mets are already out of it. We know. We're the Baseball Experts.
Of course you don't need to be an expert to wear a Faith and Fear in Flushing t-shirt. Join the best blog-readers in baseball and order several or just one today!

We contacted several Baseball Experts and asked them to explain to us how the Mets might cope with the loss of Pedro Martinez. Like most Mets fans, Jason and I watch the Mets just about every inning, but we're not Baseball Experts and neither are you. Thus, we should rely on Baseball Experts to tell us what might happen with the Mets next even though the Baseball Experts didn't necessarily pay much attention to the Mets all season. They are, after all, Baseball Experts. Here is their report.

LINEUP: Pedro Martinez will not be pitching for the Mets, so no amount of runs generated by the Mets' offense in any of their games will mean anything.

DEFENSE: Without Pedro Martinez striking out every batter the Mets face, Mets' fielders will likely be overworked and overtaxed.

BENCH: Pinch-hitters and late-inning replacements will be too overwhelmed by the absence of Pedro Martinez to perform effectively…as if it matters.

STARTING PITCHING: Pedro Martinez was going to pitch Games 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. The Mets now have five gaping holes in their rotation.

BULLPEN: Counting on being well-rested due to the 11 shutouts Pedro Martinez was sure to throw in the postseason, Met relievers are now far too tired to fire a single strike.

MANAGER: The loss of Pedro Martinez will drive Willie Randolph to distraction. Willie had been counting on his ace pitcher to twirl the first no-hitter in Mets history and hit a couple of grand slams in Game 1 of the NLDS and repeat the feat continually, peppering in perfect games and cycles along the way. Perhaps Joe Girardi could make something of this mess, but Randolph is clearly up against it.

INTANGIBLES: Don't be fooled by the presence of others on the roster. The Mets were a one-man team in 2006. Pedro Martinez electrified their attack by leading off, tripling, stealing bases and scoring at will. Pedro Martinez elicited chants of “MVP!” for his team-record slugging and awesome centerfield play. Pedro Martinez grew into one of the best two-strike hitters in the game. Pedro Martinez was a rock behind the plate and surprisingly solid in the No. 2 hole. Pedro Martinez filled the gap in the cleanup spot beautifully. Pedro Martinez was an ideal fourth outfielder. Pedro Martinez came out of nowhere to take over second base. Pedro Martinez provided wise counsel based on his nearly 30 years in the game. Pedro Martinez led the team in saves. Pedro Martinez set up the closer. Pedro Martinez took the starts of pitchers who couldn't start. Pedro Martinez negotiated one great personnel acquisition after another. Pedro Martinez scouted the opposition and provided foolproof intelligence. Pedro Martinez uncannily waved every runner home safely. Pedro Martinez affixed a gigantic baseball to his head and entertained the fans between innings. Pedro Martinez sold delicious sushi on the field level. Pedro Martinez showed you to your seat. Pedro Martinez sang six different national anthems without missing a note. Pedro Martinez built the new stadium all by himself and provided plenty of parking during construction.

CONCLUSION: No need to provide one. The Mets are already out of it. We know. We're the Baseball Experts.

Of course you don't need to be an expert to wear a Faith and Fear in Flushing t-shirt. Join the best blog-readers in baseball and order several or just one today!

But their clutch hitting again suffered; they went 2 for 13 with runners in scoring position and managed only two runs from two bases-loaded, no-out situations.
So says Ben Shpigel in the New York Times, addressing tonight's 4-3 win over the weary Nats.
OK. Yes. But.
Those two runs in those bases-loaded situations came on sac flies by Jose Valentin (4th inning) and Shawn Green (8th inning, actually there was one out). Valentin's drive sent Ryan Church to within a couple of feet of the fence; Green's left George Lombard practically squashed against it.
Maybe three or four feet in all separated those two sac flies from being twin grand slams. In which case Green's sac fly would have made the score 10-3 instead of 4-3. In which case no one would have fussed overmuch about how we did with RISP (we would have been an acceptable 4 for 15, by the way), because we'd be too busy exchanging bloggy high-fives about Green showing signs of life and Valentin coming around and the offensive funk being behind us and bring on the postseason! (And in this alternate posting universe, John Maine's win in a 10-3 romp would probably have been deemed promisingly strong with a couple of moments of distraction, rather than feeling like a distracted but ultimately decent enough no-decision. Maine wouldn't have thrown a single pitch differently, but there you have it.)
Three or four feet. That's 36 to 48 inches. Not a long distance in talking about the mileage of balls struck over the course of a game. In other words, oh fellow anxious play-out-the-stringers, oh fellow travelers in the Land Without Pedro…relax.
(Want a shirt? It'd be our honor. Here's how to get one.)

But their clutch hitting again suffered; they went 2 for 13 with runners in scoring position and managed only two runs from two bases-loaded, no-out situations.

So says Ben Shpigel in the New York Times, addressing tonight's 4-3 win over the weary Nats.

OK. Yes. But.

Those two runs in those bases-loaded situations came on sac flies by Jose Valentin (4th inning) and Shawn Green (8th inning, actually there was one out). Valentin's drive sent Ryan Church to within a couple of feet of the fence; Green's left George Lombard practically squashed against it.

Maybe three or four feet in all separated those two sac flies from being twin grand slams. In which case Green's sac fly would have made the score 10-3 instead of 4-3. In which case no one would have fussed overmuch about how we did with RISP (we would have been an acceptable 4 for 15, by the way), because we'd be too busy exchanging bloggy high-fives about Green showing signs of life and Valentin coming around and the offensive funk being behind us and bring on the postseason! (And in this alternate posting universe, John Maine's win in a 10-3 romp would probably have been deemed promisingly strong with a couple of moments of distraction, rather than feeling like a distracted but ultimately decent enough no-decision. Maine wouldn't have thrown a single pitch differently, but there you have it.)

Three or four feet. That's 36 to 48 inches. Not a long distance in talking about the mileage of balls struck over the course of a game. In other words, oh fellow anxious play-out-the-stringers, oh fellow travelers in the Land Without Pedro…relax.

(Want a shirt? It'd be our honor. Here's how to get one.)

Congratulations go out to David Anderson, Jr., who dug up all 20 correct answers to our Flashback Friday quiz. He wins the A&E Home Video release, The New York Mets Vintage World Series Films DVD, featuring the 1969 and 1986 triumphs to end all triumphs…except, hopefully, for another triumph that will arrive in short order. The disc is graciously provided by A&E, which can tell you how to purchase it for your baseball library.
He also gets the KT Tunstall CD Eye to the Telescope because my wife and I each bought on a copy on the same day and I'm too lazy to return mine.
A “well-played!” to Ray Stilwell, a.k.a. Metphistopheles, for sending in a very entertaining set of answers, 19 of which were dead on, one of which got tangled in a legal interpretation, a concept with which I'm guessing he's familiar. I know he's intimately familiar with his Mets postseason history, which you should read here. Ray has earned a Wild Card prize to be determined by the judges.
The answers…
1. What did my mother refer to Danny Heep as?
A dunner
2. Where did Joel and I go for lunch when Opening Day II was rained out?
Chi-Chi's
3. What did Mr. Jarvis at the hobby shop trade Geoff Hayton for a ball autographed by the '86 Mets?
Santa Cruz dots skateboard wheels
(This was where Ray got tripped up. He said it was a skateboard, which was pretty close, but wheels are wheels. Either way, Mr. Jarvis best start running the other way right quick, for in addition to living in the shadow of Geoff's grudge, he has just earned a lifelong enemy in the Buffalo area.)
4. Who didn't expect her husband to take his shoes off after a game?
Margie Backman
5. What was the theme of the 1986 Old Timers Day?
The Mets' 25th Anniversary
6. When the ticker-tape parade crowd began booing Mayor Koch, who did he start to introduce?
The Board of Estimate
7. What distracted Larry Russo from witnessing Ray Knight's walkoff hit off of Tim Burke?
A paper airplane
8. Who referred to Keith Hernandez as “dark, reflective, analytical, urban”?
Pete Hamill
9. What movie did Fred and I want to see instead of Stand By Me?
Reform School Girls
10. To what tune did I compose my own idiotic Super Bowl XXI song parody, “Giant Steps to Pasadena”?
“Walk Like An Egyptian”
11. What pitcher's name did I invoke to shut up Danny the Yankee fan in Tampa?
Britt Burns
12. Who spiked Jason's foot in St. Petersburg?
Wally Backman
(As Ray noted, “See what happens when you're not used to taking your own shoes off?”)
13. What was Dwight Gooden's ERA in the 50 starts that preceded his first loss of 1986?
1.38
14. In what 2006 film does the main character declare, “I hate the Mets”?
Game 6
15. By what nickname did I refer to Rick Aguilera in my journal entry of July 23, 1986?
Rick “Rock Me” Aguilera
16. What brand of gasoline did Gary Carter endorse?
Northville
17. Why did my friend Chuck tell me he rooted for the Mets?
For my sake
18. What was the Newsday back page headline that captured the essence of the age in June of '86?
Ho-Hum. Another Win.
19. What was the front page headline of El Diario on September 18, 1986?
CAMPEONES
20. Which six seasons attempted to haunt me on one particular Friday?
1971, 1976, 1981, 1991, 1996, 2001

Welcome to Flashback Friday, a weekly feature devoted to the 20th anniversary of the 1986 World Champion New York Mets.
Twenty years. Forty-three Fridays. This is one of them.
The regular season ended as it began, with the Mets conquering the Pirates. From Lenny Dykstra drawing a walk off Rick Reuschel on April 8 in Pittsburgh to Sid Fernandez striking out Bobby Bonilla on October 5 at Shea, it was everything Mr. Johnson in the dugout promised. It was dominance.
It was as close to perfect as one could hope to get. 162-0 being out of the question, 108-54 sounded just right. Two wins for every loss, over and over and over and over again.
There was an 18-1 stretch. And a 22-7. And a 14-4. And a 14-3. And, to finish things off, another 14-4.
The Mets led the National League in batting average, slugging average, walks, runs batted in and at-bats. That last one seems pretty remarkable considering how many bases on balls they received and how often they were able to skip the bottom of the ninth.
No N.L. pitching staff registered a lower ERA or walked fewer batters intentionally. Intuitive reasoning says our pitchers weren't afraid of any hitters.
The phrase “career year” was in vogue in the mid-'80s. The Mets lost to the Cubs in '84 because Ryne Sandberg enjoyed a career year. The Mets lost to the Cards in '85 because Tommy Herr put up a career year. In '86, no single Met could claim a career year on the level those theretofore middling infielders achieved, but none had to. As a franchise, the 1986 Mets had a career year.
So it was a very definitive moment when El Sid retired Bobby Bo to seal the 108th win. Even the final score was absolutely apropos: 9-0. That's the score they assign forfeits, and as good as the Mets were 20 years ago, it felt like the National League flat out surrendered to their majesty. Laid down their bats, their gloves, their will to compete.
108-54 was something to behold on October 5. And you know what it meant on October 8, the night the Mets faced the Western Division champion Astros in the first game of the 1986 National League Championship Series?
Not a damn thing.
For as much as we were sure it was our year, Astros fans were certain of the same thing. In Boston, Red Sox fans had that same feeling. In Anaheim and environs, Angel acolytes would have said, no, we're the ones.
Only one of us four could be right. If it wasn't us, what would those 108 wins mean? What if we didn't win the World Series? Geez, what if we didn't get past those nasty Astro pitchers? How would we remember 1986? Would Mookie Wilson conjure vague images of a speedy fellow who didn't get on base enough to merit batting leadoff? Would Jesse Orosco be recalled as a reliever whose last solid season was 1984? Ray Knight had a good April, didn't he? And who was that runt who played in the outfield sometimes…Benny, Kenny, Lenny…?
Yeah, it was a spectacular season. But its coda — the postseason — would determine its meaning. On October 5, 1986, we could be happy. But we couldn't be satisfied. You don't wait all your life for a season like that to end it with a division title. In 1986, the Mets had to…had to win the World Series, just like in 1969.
And you know what? So do you.
You have to win the 1986 World Series. And the 1969 World Series. Right now.
What the hell am I talking about? I'm talking about a chance for you to set an example for your 2006 New York Mets. I'm talking about an opportunity to be victorious in the name of Mookie and Jesse and Sugar Ray and Lenny as well as Tommie and Cleon and Kooz and Little Al Weis.
With an assist from A&E Home Video, we have a copy of The New York Mets Vintage World Series Films DVD. It is a restored, digital rendering of the official MLB 1969 and 1986 Fall Classic retrospectives. These are the flicks that used to fill the rain delays on Channel 9 and SportsChannel. You've seen them. You're dying to see them again.
I've just seen them again. They're gorgeous in every sense of the word. Vin Scully narrates '86, Curt Gowdy '69. The '86er, to tell you the truth, is a bit cheesy with the oversized graphics and the synth score (if you're a fan of the UK version of The Office, it will remind you of the “Training” episode), but why quibble? It's the 1986 World Series. And the '69er is a remarkable curio of that strange space in time that the 1969 Mets occupy, that moment when the past was inevitably meeting the present (watch for tons of product placement; it's adorable).
You'll want this disc in your baseball library. And I want you to have it. You may have seen other blogs give this or other A&E releases away. They all have their own rules, some easier than others. I want you to have this so bad, I'm going to make it very simple.
I'm going to administer an open-blog quiz. It will be a breeze for you, the faithful Flashback Friday reader. Every answer is sitting ripe for the plucking in a Flashback Friday entry from this year. All you have to do to find them — if you haven't committed them to memory — is look them up. And all you have to do to find previous Flashbacks is go to the first paragraph of each post and click.
What's that? That sounds like hard work? Dude, we're talking about 1969 and 1986! The least you can do for your two championships to date is a little clicking and scrolling and maybe some rereading. But if you are feeling put out, let me sweeten the pot. I will include, at my own personal expense, a copy of the current smash CD, Eye to the Telescope by British singing sensation KT Tunstall. It features her catchy hit single “Black Horse and the Cherry Tree”. Its connection to 1986? While the Mets vamped on 1986 reunion night, killing time between the ceremonies and the game, they played the video for this song on DiamondVision.
Also, Stephanie and I each recently bought the CD on the very same day and she opened hers first and I'm too lazy to return mine. Hence, you're the beneficiary of our miscommunication and my sloth.
The rules: Twenty years, twenty questions. First to e-mail me (faithandfear@gmail.com) twenty correct answers wins. Should nobody come through with a 1969 regular season win total score of 100 by 11:59 PM, Thursday October 5, the first entry containing the most correct answers of all received will be declared the winner. All judges' decisions are final. (I don't know what that last part means, I just wanted to make it sound official.)
Enough talk. Win the World Series.
1. What did my mother refer to Danny Heep as?
2. Where did Joel and I go for lunch when Opening Day II was rained out?
3. What did Mr. Jarvis at the hobby shop trade Geoff Hayton for a ball autographed by the '86 Mets?
4. Who didn't expect her husband to take his shoes off after a game?
5. What was the theme of the 1986 Old Timers Day?
6. When the ticker-tape parade crowd began booing Mayor Koch, who did he start to introduce?
7. What distracted Larry Russo from witnessing Ray Knight's walkoff hit off of Tim Burke?
8. Who referred to Keith Hernandez as “dark, reflective, analytical, urban”?
9. What movie did Fred and I want to see instead of Stand By Me?
10. To what tune did I compose my own idiotic Super Bowl XXI song parody, “Giant Steps to Pasadena”?
11. What pitcher's name did I invoke to shut up Danny the Yankee fan in Tampa?
12. Who spiked Jason's foot in St. Petersburg?
13. What was Dwight Gooden's ERA in the 50 starts that preceded his first loss of 1986?
14. In what 2006 film does the main character declare, “I hate the Mets”?
15. By what nickname did I refer to Rick Aguilera in my journal entry of July 23, 1986?
16. What brand of gasoline did Gary Carter endorse?
17. Why did my friend Chuck tell me he rooted for the Mets?
18. What was the Newsday back page headline that captured the essence of the age in June of '86?
19. What was the front page headline of El Diario on September 18, 1986?
20. Which six seasons attempted to haunt me on one particular Friday?
EDITOR'S NOTE: The contest ended early Friday afternoon, 9/29, when we received the winning entry. The idenity of the winner and the answers are here. Please do not send in your answers, but feel free to play along at home for fun.
Incidentally, all contestants and non-contestants remain eligible to buy a shirt.