The blog for Mets fans
who like to read

ABOUT US

Greg Prince and Jason Fry
Faith and Fear in Flushing made its debut on Feb. 16, 2005, the brainchild of two longtime friends and lifelong Met fans.

Greg Prince discovered the Mets when he was 6, during the magical summer of 1969. He is a Long Island-based writer, editor and communications consultant. Contact him here.

Jason Fry is a Brooklyn writer whose first memories include his mom leaping up and down cheering for Rusty Staub. Check out his other writing here.

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

Need our RSS feed? It's here.

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

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

Second to Last Licks

It finally didn’t rain and the Mets finally got to play, and so for your recapper’s final go-round of the season our heroes presented one game that turned into a nail-biter, one Calvinball farce that was pretty entertaining for all its sloppy meaninglessness, a doubleheader sweep that didn’t matter, a depressing thought, and a happy […]

Penultimate Weekend Wrapup

• The Mets lost, 5-2, at Citizens Bank Park on Sunday night, completing a weekend in which there was a definitive milestone of futility planted every step along the way. Sunday’s wasn’t as momentous as clinching a losing record (Thursday), being mathematically eliminated from postseason contention (Friday) or assuring the 2023 Mets would drop further […]

A Pitcher's Best Friend

“I swear I could tear your throat out right now!”

That was said by a parking-lot attendant at Citizens Bank Park after our friend Jerome pulled an admittedly unconventional U-turn in an effort to escape a tediously slow line of vehicles waiting for spaces.

Welcome to Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love! And yes, sometimes the jokes […]

A Night for the Grown-Ups

The first half of Wednesday’s game burbled vaguely out of my phone from a waterproof pouch around my neck: It was Opening Day for kayak season, so first I was sitting in a boat off a Brooklyn Bridge Park pier making sure people didn’t drown or do anything dopey and then I was hauling racks […]

Right Where I Left It

The Mets’ losing streak is over — and so, as it happens, is mine.

I went 0 for 2022. Every time I attended a Mets game they lost the damn thing, including two playoff games. The only time they won a game for which I held a ticket was Closing Day, and I bailed out of […]

A Series Closes, A Closer Returns

If Cole Porter were still with us, I can hear him having a field day with the results of the 2022 World Series.

You’re the top
You’re the Houston Astros
You transformed
Phil bats to disasters

Whoever dug deep for the sportsmanship to declare, before the Fall Classic began, “may the best team win,” got their wish. The best team […]

When the Mets Toughen Champs

Growing up in the 1970s in New York, where college football showed up in the papers just enough to provide context for gambling lines, I maintained scant awareness of the sport, save for maybe the bowl games played on New Year’s Day. It was therefore a culture shock to me when I arrived at my […]

Of Phillies and Phantoms

I’m assuming the five-day interregnum between the conclusion of the League Championship Series and the commencing of the World Series was built into the postseason by MLB this year to give us time to get used to the nearly unfathomable presence of the Philadelphia Phillies in the 2022 Fall Classic.

But here we are, four days […]

Day of Healing

The Phillies and the Padres fought the instinct to kick me out of bed this morning, which I appreciate. Strange as it is, they became my bedfellows on Saturday, the day I resumed an ability to watch baseball and not hate everything about it. Postseason will make people otherwise at odds find common cause.

Our cause […]

The Damnedest of Things

Most of the time you don’t know. Sometimes you know just enough. Sunday I didn’t definitively know if the Mets were dead and buried at 4-0 after one; were alive and well at 4-4 in the middle of the fourth; had dirt kicked on them at 7-4 at the end of four; had sprung back […]