On my bookshelves you'll find a fairly random assortment of Met media guides from various years. (I don't bother with them much anymore because all this stuff is now online.) The other night I was looking through an old one in search of biographical information about the immortal Brian Ostrosser (don't ask) and was surprised by how thoroughly the tone of these things has changed.

Sure, recent media guides still have some of the goofy features of media guides since time immemorial: And the Name Is…, Mets/Shea Stadium Firsts, Road Hotels, Last Time That X Happened, For the Cycle, Mets Triple Plays, Last Trade With, Mets Who Played for Yankees, etc. But the bios? Well, they're a bit different.

Here are some musings about Roger Cedeno, from the 2002 media guide: His wife is named Thais, his daughter is Michele. In 2001 he led the Tigers with 41 multi-hit games and registered a career-high 48 RBIs. In 1999 he led the Mets with nine outfield assists. In 1997 he hit in a then career-best 10 consecutive games. In 1994 his .321 average was the fifth-highest in the Dodger organization. In 1993 he was the youngest player to play in the Texas League since Bobby Tolan. His brother Nolys Solarte played in the Pirates' organization. He donated $10,000 to charity after 9/11.

Yawn. You get the idea — cherrypicked positives. The only hint of something less than ideal is a mysterious note from 2001: Did not play the final 19 games of the season (manager's decision).

Now, let's look at the much-thinner, not-so-glossy 1975 Press-Radio-TV Guide. It's impossible to miss the generational oddities, like the eight scheduled doubleheaders or the need to note on the schedule that certain games are televised (TV) and others are night games (N). But just wait.

There's the rather odd-sounding biography of Yogi Berra, described at various points as “the fire-pluggish open-faced son of Italian immigrants,” “the piano-legged paisan” and “the shy recruit whose face has been likened to a fallen souffle”. Oh, and that bio opens with this: “The fortunes of Yogi Berra represented a series of emotional peaks and valleys in fateful 1972. There was January's joy, generated by Destiny's touch of immortality, and April's anguish and appreciation, stoked alternately by the hands of tragedy and opportunity.” Whew! (Apparently that's the work of Harold Weissman and Matt Winick, who seem to have been paid by the eye-roll.)

Now, some tidbits that the media guide saw fit to include in scouting reports on the players who wanted to be Mets in 1975:

Bob Apodaca: “Completely ignored in 1968 draft following conversion from third baseman at Cerritos Junior College (where coach decided he 'couldn't hit or run good enough to be an infielder'); subsequently transferred to California State.”

Benny Ayala: “after hitting safely in first four games he steadily lost ground and confidence; and powerful, compact swing that fascinated Yogi Berra and Rube Walker during winter tour had vanished.”

Gene Clines: ” 'Super Sub' label failed to placate one-time Bay Area wunderkind who openly voiced displeasure over frustrating inability to win full time status … Brightest stat of 1974 campaign, dimmed by request to be traded, was 14 steals in 16 attempts”

Wayne Garrett: “One of few positives of negative 1970 that followed Met Miracle”

Bud Harrelson: “1974 wasn't a total loss. … One of few bright spots to penetrate gloom of 1970” (Jeez, you can't win every year!)

Felix Millan: “Soft-spoken Beau Brummel of Mets”

Rich Puig: “Personable youngster has yet to live up to billing as 'one of the organization's better hitting prospects,' or to develop in manner that attracted the attention of pro scouts when he was 14 … accompanied Mets to Japan, but limited to three pinch-hit appearances because of intestinal infection which was cleared up before tour's end.”

Rusty Staub: “Spent most disciplined culinary winter of career in determined effort to regain heralded form”

Joe Torre: “Swarthy local product”

Hank Webb: “Opportunity, afforded by fascination with 'one of organization's liveliest arms,' has been there for three years, but indifference last season continued to represent the distance separating free-spirited local product from predicted major league stardom; hopes are renewed now that responsibility of post-season marriage will help close tantalizing gap”

They don't make 'em like they used to. Sometimes that's not a bad thing.

Following a full year and most of a second offseason on the job, I think I have detected a bias to Omar Minaya's player procurement. It's not about where you're from — it's about how far you've come, how much farther you're likely to go and how much you're due.

We've seen the man has no problem doling out megabucks to megastars or those players who are the closest available to that level. He expects them to perform at a high plane, so he doesn't mind the high prices they command and, as we've seen, he isn't shy about letting go of unproven youngsters (Mike Jacobs among them) in whom he's not fully invested.

It's the guys who have likely maxed out for whom he seems to have little use, particularly if he has to pay them for what they have done rather than what he believes they will actually do.

That may sound like GM 101, but think about how Minaya's predecessors let various bundles of, to use an unkind term, dead wood lie around and gather dust. A Lenny Harris here, a Joe McEwing there, that kind of player. They both did lovely things in 2000 but were rewarded beyond their usefulness in the coming year or years with contracts that were longer than necessary. Omar seems to understand that certain cogs are more replaceable than others and he isn't shy about replacing them.

It's not exactly Moneyball, but it's at least a second cousin.

The roster decisions that have been made in the Minaya regime reflect a fairly cool (you might say cold) approach in such matters, particularly if the players in question weren't acquired on his watch.

Mike Cameron? Several factors (recovery and position most prominently) at work, but the bottom line was he was overpriced at $7 million-plus owed for '06. Omar decided he could make right field work much cheaper and not all that much less efficiently between Xavier Nady, Victor Diaz and whoever else he might pick up along the way.

Kris Benson? Ditto on there being extenuating circumstances, but double-ditto on the price tag. Yes, Benson was one of Omar's first pieces of business in the fall of 2004, but think about the corner the Mets were in. They were still taking flak for Kazmir, sent away the same day Kris showed up. To be left with nothing but Victor Zambrano following what some think of as the July 30 Massacre wasn't going to cut it. Benson had the Mets over a barrel and got a moderately ridiculous $22.5 million three-year deal. One so-so year in, he wasn't showing scads of progress. Omar cut his losses, not to mention a spousal headache. Benson was by no means worthless (I certainly didn't think so when this trade was made), but I doubt he's the difference-maker for 2006.

Roberto Hernandez and Marlon Anderson? Two very pleasant surprises from spring training 2005. Also two journeymen who aren't getting any younger and could be judged to have peaked. Based on what they did last year, they were within their rights to seek multiple years and nice increases. Omar was within his rights to think if you can pull a middle relief lifesaver and a utility wiz out of your cap in '05, why not try it again in '06?

Miguel Cairo? He didn't rate a return, but when did that stop the Mets in the past? We would've heard about his versatility and his good character and he'd have been signed for two more years for more than a million per. Omar saw through that. Same for all those other not-offered-arbitration fringies who dare not speak their names.

Jae Seo? The money thing doesn't work here. Seo's been up and down between here and Norfolk since 2002, accumulating only one full MLB season in '03. The fact that Seo was as down as up in '05 is the tipoff that Omar didn't trust him from start to start. The GM certainly knew of him from his first stint in the Met front office and from his time with Montreal (I recall an abominable meltdown versus the Expos on Fireworks Night three years ago). Remember that Seo had a beautiful start in May and couldn't displace Kaz Ishii until August. There's an obvious disconnect between this general manager and this pitcher. The Mets have fallen head over heels for marginal players who have impressed for a spell only to take the fall themselves when those players were penciled in the following spring. Jason Phillips, anyone?

Mike Piazza? Perfect world, he finishes here and gets an authentic sendoff, not the juryrigged “yeah, he's leaving, but…” halfassery to which we were party last October 2. But this isn't the A.L. where a deteriorating Bernie Williams can bat four times a game and stand around in the outfield once a week while praying no one hits it to him. Mike Piazza's downslide was too apparent to pretend he's a force at or behind the plate and Mike Piazza's presence is too heavy to imagine he could just recede into the woodwork as a part-time catcher/pinch-hitter deluxe and that everybody concerned would be happy. If he really wanted to stay a Met, a way (a relatively inexpensive one) would've been found. I don't think he did. Let him go, as Omar did.

What's the net on all these deletions?

• A realpolitik worldview that says starters who were (in his estimation) never going to break through beyond their current state are worth the price of a fortified bullpen. Duaner Sanchez every other day is hence judged more valuable than Jae Seo every fifth.

• A bench that will reflect the disposability of bench players (save for Chris Woodward and Ramon Castro who earned their raises) and the idea that there are bargains (perhaps Bret Boone) to be had and even kids (perhaps Jeff Keppinger) to be played. Roberto Hernandez exits, Chad Bradford enters. It could work.

• A budget that digs out the change between the proverbial couch cushions to put toward big-ticket items like Delgado, Wagner and Lo Duca, buying quality in the quest to win now, his fairly obvious charge from the Wilpons.

• A healthy impatience that doesn't cross its fingers that a Cameron or Benson or Cairo will perform at his best instead of his more likely mediocre.

• An unsentimental manner of building a ballclub.

Not everything fits the model. Omar liked the cut of Julio Franco's jib enough to give him two years that will leave the ageful wonder one year shy of his 50th birthday. It was probably excessive, but let's allow the general manager one or two whims. Rules need exceptions.

Matsui's still here, but that's the market at work. Zambrano's still here, but there's talent there and it's worth another shot at tapping. Jorge Julio bears some definite scars, but those are what they pay Rick Peterson to remove.

Meanwhile, until further notice, Aaron Heilman remains. Lastings Milledge remains. Mike Pelfrey is in the fold. Jose Reyes wasn't packaged for Miguel Tejada. Sammy Sosa's nowhere in sight.

Putting aside the downright silly Hispanic Quotient stuff (yes, it's a bummer having a GM who might see in certain players what other GMs may be prone to overlook), what I think we have working on our behalf is a very confident baseball executive. He has put himself on the line and he doesn't mind operating out there.

Omar has seemed bent on quickly remaking the Mets to his own specifications in the best tradition of Leo Durocher when he took over the Giants and Whitey Herzog after gaining control of the Cardinals. Everybody wants to bring in his own guys, but Omar's been particularly diligent about purging every non-core Met — and a few who were core — brought in by Steve Phillips or Jim Duquette. Even with MLB turnover being what it is, Minaya's Mets have run through existing personnel like Reyes sprints from home to third.

Granted, the pre-Omar regime wasn't in the midst of a dynasty, but his actions indicate to me a GM who is sure of what it will take to compete and win. He doesn't seem to have much use for the vast swath of players who play at a level between useful part and star attraction. Benson, Cameron and Seo (taken as a whole) had revealed themselves to be, at best, pretty good, and Omar has no patience for pretty good players who make very good money. I sense he'd rather get by with those who project a notch below, like Nady, until he can do something more (the elusive Manny, et al) rather than hope that he'll get an abnormally good year from a Cameron, a guy who wasn't his signing.

Omar, I'm thinking, doesn't trust anybody's judgment other than Omar's. That's a good thing if you don't like management by committee and particularly if Omar has spectacular judgment.

We shall see.

On the off chance anybody out there is thinking about the Super Bowl, evidence that football isn't that big a deal is offered at Gotham Baseball.

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It's dangerous to attempt to piece together a 25-man roster even at this late stage of the winter, but I'm going to give it a try.

The catcher will be a Metropolitan-American.

Around the infield we'll see four Metropolitan-Americans.

Each of the three outfield spots will be occupied by a Metropolitan-American.

The bench? All Metropolitan-Americans.

Five Metropolitan-Americans will fill out the rotation. The bullpen, from the long man to the closer, will have nothing but Metropolitan-Americans.

You can really root for a team that's made up of Metropolitan-Americans. Taken as a unit, it should be a pretty good group we can all get behind.

And the man who put it together? I think we'll eventually look at him as a credit to his race.

The pennant race.

One more curtain call for Mike Piazza! He signed with the Padres. Last week's rumors about him and the Skanks proved hollow. For that alone, he rates a standing ovation.

One now, two later. He's scheduled to compete against us in seven separate games, four in April in San Diego, three in August at Shea. I will go clap-happy in front of the television when the Mets are at Petco and have just now made plans to do it again from a seat in Queens.

Not that I'll be using the seat when he comes to bat. Never had much use for it before, why start now?

Mike could have done us some real good by going to the Blue Jays and exterminating certain A.L. East bacteria, but then we wouldn't get to see him in his old house. By August 8, I may not be terribly enthused at the prospect of watching him take one of his old batterymates deep, but right now I wouldn't forsake him that pleasure.

Mets 10 Padres 1 — yeah, that's doable.

As for the rest of the time, Mike Piazza will be up too late to be included in this edition. Something like half of his games will merit the ol' (n) in the next morning's papers. Damn you San Diego for your inconsiderate choice of time zone. Yes, the Internet is the Denny's of communications vehicles, open at all hours, but nobody Back Here really has much idea of what goes on Out There. As far as we know, Barry Bonds is six homers shy of 500 and two hat sizes short of gargantuan.

Distance notwithstanding, I'll do my best to keep tabs on our erstwhile catcher and heroic figure. I did the same for Fonzie when he crossed the continent. It took me a couple of years to not pay attention to Giants games for his performances. I don't know that Mike has a couple of years, but whatever he does, I hope he does it well and, if he can help it, not at our expense too much.

Spring is in the air!

Is it the weather? No, not really — New York's been experiencing the kind of weather one would normally expect to find in a videogame this winter, making such judgments utterly unreliable. (It was 49 degrees today, which pretty much ensures it'll be 29 tomorrow.)

Is it that the Super Bowl is a week from tonight? Well, kind of — everyone knows the Super Bowl exists primarily to reassure baseball fans that, yes, pitchers and catchers will soon report, and maybe they should reconsider clambering up the ladder with a noose. But while the Super Bowl marks the end of football, it isn't immediately followed by the beginning of baseball.

Is it the World Baseball Classic? Meh. I know when it actually arrives I'll be watching every minute, but in January and February that's true of winter-ball telecasts in which I can't understand the language, “The Bad News Bears Go to Japan” and most anything else that might include the sight of ball hitting bat, provided it isn't on YES or doesn't involve Fran Healy. I know I should get behind the WBC, but I can't help thinking I'd rather have those pitches it will demand from Pedro's arm in September, and the fact that there's an 0.00001% chance of David Wright getting Ray Fosse'ed makes me think it's perfectly obvious that no Met should play. (Yes, I am crazy, potentially unpatriotic and viewing this in a reprehensibly Steinbrenneresque manner. I'm also now frantically knocking wood for that Wright comment.)

No, I sense spring because of two happy discoveries. One came poring over the spring-training calendar; the other is right there on the regular one.

The Mets will play 30 spring-training games (not counting split-squad affairs and the possibility of shellacking, say, Hofstra for no apparent reason) and 18 of them will be on the air in one form or another — 11 on SNY and seven on the FAN. That sent me to my 2005 appointment book, ready to trumpet the fact that we're getting a much bigger slate of games than last year. Except we aren't: Last year there were 32 games, 16 of which were on some form of air. Five were on the radio and 11 were on one TV station or the other. So much for memory. (Obligatory caveat: The above paragraph combined Jason and math, meaning it's almost certainly wrong.)

Last year, though, we finished up in Florida with little to see: My old appointment book shows a televised game on March 27 and then nothing until April 1 — followed by nothing on April 2 and a final televised exhibition on April 3. (A day later Braden Looper would give us a teaser of his 2005 season with that appalling gag job in Cincy.) This year we should get to see the team come together in the final week: The Mets are off on March 20, and every game after that except the final exhibition (on April Fool's Day) is on — nine on SNY, two on the radio.

Bravo, SNY!

(Now all we need is for SNY to rethink this being so damned even-handed about covering all New York sports. At the very least, let's not sully the Land o' Mets with a bunch of Yankee doings. I don't care if Derek Jeter hits nine home runs, discovers cold fusion and forges nonproliferation agreements with Iran and North Korea — I don't want to know about it. If SNY must admit the presence of that other team, how about a Reverse Mrs. Payson approach: If there's a Yankee on my set, it means they lost, Steinbrenner sicced a German shepherd on poor Brian Cashman or somebody got nailed for steroids. But then I wanted to call it the NO network.)

Enough TV talk — 2006 has a wonderful harbinger of baseball season that'll be on everybody's calendar. Daylight savings time begins on Sunday, April 2 this year — and Opening Day is Monday, April 3. Which is so obviously the way the world ought to work that it leaves me with a basic question: Why haven't they done it this way every year? I mean, what's the point of extra daylight if it's not used for playing baseball?