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d'Kong76 wrote: Don't even bring him up in idle conversation! Good point. Next time I'm offered soup or salad, I'm going with the latter -- unless Antonio Bastardo's nickname is Salad.

Don't bring up Campbell.

d'Kong76 wrote: Anyone hear anything further about Wilmer? Wilmer available for pinch-hitting. Supposedly close to returning to the lineup.

I look at Familia in action, and I hear Howard Dean's Iowa caucus night scream.

Spectacular edition. I have the sense that Noah got more Schaefer mileage out of a truncated start on May 28 than any Met to date.

Juan Lagares to DL, Ty Kelly to NY.

Fun dies without fundies.

It's Amazin' Mets By The Numbers Again, a mashup book event featuring two familiar authors in Greenpoint tonight at seven. If you're in the vicinity, do drop on by.

The Shea Bridge Report is the product of a 19-year-old blogging prodigy named James Schapiro. This homage to his affection for David Wright is a classic of the genre. Don't give up on a ball, even if it's in the stands or behind you to your barehand side. Get down and ready before every pitch, and field every ball carefully. Don't chase pitches out of the strike zone; a walk is just fine. Run everything out. Be smart. Work hard; do whatever it takes to get out on that field. And again, equally off the field: be nice. be respectful. Set an example. Be a leader. Play for the name on the front of the jersey, not the one on the back. Keep out of trouble. Use your influence as a sports star to create positive change. Don't shirk responsibility, give credit where credit is due, and don't be afraid to let your emotions show. You could assemble a player in a video game, with every positive asset turned up to the max and all character negatives minimized or eliminated. Or, you could just watch David Wright play.

Edgy MD wrote: Ike Davis spurns the Yankees, elects to continue his career on a minor league deal with Texas, where he certainly could flourish, even if Mitch Moreland and Prince Fielder currently block his path. Speaking of grounders to the groin, Ike has at last decided to go the MFY way. His first MLB AB will coincide with the removal of my WE LIKE IKE shirt from rotation.

Extended Chico Fernandez meditation embedded within lengthy piece about a game I heard some of and saw none of. Thanks to Zvon for his unwitting graphic contribution.

Chico's date of passing is June 11, 2016. His date of birth is March 2, 1932. I'm not sure where I got 1939 from when originally sharing this news. He was 84. The cause of death was complications from the stroke. His impact on Tiger history is recalled in the Detroit Free Press. Humberto (Chico) Fernandez [was] the first regular starting Latino player for the Detroit Tigers. [...] The Cuban native was the starting shortstop for the Tigers from 1960 to the beginning of 1963 when he was traded to the New York Mets and replaced by Dick McAuliffe. McAuliffe died May 13. Fernandez began his major league career with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1956 before being traded to the Philadelphia Phillies where he became the first Latino to play for the Phillies. After three seasons in Philadelphia he was traded to Detroit following the 1959 season. He finished his career with the Mets in 1963. He talked to the Free Press last summer about his trailblazing career. “I am proud that I helped lay the foundation for the Latin players today. I can tell you that I went through some hell, but I just loved playing baseball,” said Fernandez who recalled that on his first road trip of the 1960 season, he was forced to eat in a kitchen while his teammates ate in the dining room of a restaurant. Fernandez may be best remembered for his steal of home plate during the pennant race of 1961 between the Tigers and New York Yankees in a July 4 doubleheader in front of 74,000 fans at Yankee Stadium. In the second game, down 3-2 in the top of the ninth with the bases loaded and two outs and Tiger slugger Rocky Colavito at the plate, Fernandez raced home and slid head first, beating the tag of catcher Johnny Blanchard to tie the score. The Tigers went on to win 4-3 in extra innings to retain first place with a one-game lead over New York, which eventually ran away with the pennant in September. “I said to the reporters after the game that if I had been out I would have been sent to the minors,” Fernandez told the Free Press last year. “Rollie Sheldon was a left-handed rookie pitcher who never saw me with his delivery, and nobody thought I would steal under those circumstances with Colavito at the plate. I actually had to slow down because I thought Rocky might swing and hit me in the head. ” The following year, Fernandez had his best season with the Tigers when he hit 20 home runs with 59 RBIs and a .249 average. Upon learning of Fernandez’s passing, Jake Wood, the first starting black player for the Tigers to come through Detroit’s minor league system and who held down the middle infield with Fernandez, said: “I’m a little leery of answering calls from Detroit now. First Dick McAuliffe, and now Chico. It’s tough losing your teammates. Being a minority, Chico was very helpful to me when I was first called up. I had the good fortune of speaking with him briefly on the phone last year as I had not spoken to him in a long time.” “It really hits you hard when you lose a guy like Chico," Colavito said. "He did a great job for us and he was a good teammate. "I spoke with him last summer for the first time since 1963 and we had a nice conversation about our days in Detroit and how much we appreciated each other. Losing Dick McAuliffe and then Chico is not easy to take.” After baseball, Fernandez returned to Detroit where he sold insurance. Before retiring to Florida in the mid-1980s, he was a popular fixture in the Detroit Latino community. He served on the Board of Latin Americans for Social and Economic Development and supported the development of youth programs. His significance in Mets history, besides being their first Cuban-born player and handling their last defensive chance in the Polo Grounds, also includes his membership in the One Met Homer Club, population currently 78. He hit his lone Met homer in that way midseason acquisitions will, five days after he joined the team, thus giving you hope that this guy we just got is gonna help turn us around. It came in a rather characteristic Mets game. They'd been down, 6-1, going to the sixth at San Francisco. Here came the Mets: Ron Hunt led off against Billy O'Dell with a homer; Jim Hickman reached on a two-out walk and moved to second on a wild pitch; Cliff Cook singled him in; and Chico stepped up and drove a two-run homer outta Candlestick. Suddenly it's 6-5, we're back in this thing, Let's Go Mets! There was no more scoring. The Mets lost, 6-5, either having had their momentum sapped by a rally-halting home run or they remembered they were playing a much better team. Tracy Stallard and Larry Bearnarth held the fort after Jay Hook departed, but the Mets only had one uproarious inning in them. Facing reliever Gaylord Perry, Cook -- who had homered in the fifth -- and Fernandez, our heroes from the sixth, left Hickman on second in the eighth. Perry chalked up his second major league save (unofficial stat, at the time). His first came a dozen days earlier versus the Mets when he mopped up for three innings in a 17-4 Giants win at the Polo Grounds. Alvin Dark removed Digger O'Dell with a ten-run lead after six. So this was progress. The Chico Fernandez effect, you might say. Certainly if I'd been following the Mets in 1963, that would have been my angle. (Of the first 16 members in the One Met Homer Club, Chico is the only slugger to have chosen the road for his chance to go deep. Everybody else between 1962 and 1975 dinged to the home crowd delight. The next to homer on the road and never again as a Met? Leo Foster, at Wrigley Field in 1976.)

Chico Fernandez, who recorded the final Met assist in the Polo Grounds, has reportedly passed away.

On The West Wing Weekly podcast, Joshua Malina booed Richard Schiff's mention of MFY allegiance. "I'm a diehard Mets fan," the Aaron Sorkin utility player made clear.

Grandy RF De Aza LF Yo CF Loney 1B Cabrera SS Flores 3B Say, Didn't You Used To Be Kelly Johnson 2B Plawecki C Harvey P

Brandon's getting his PCL on: .325/.403/.521, five homers, 31 ribbies in 50 games.

Another product of nearby (to me, certainly) Freeport: Ray Searage, 1981 Met, sole member of the 1.000/1.000 club, current Pirate pitching guru, fixer of Jon Niese, who, you might have heard, was born the day the Mets last won a World Series. As for Justin Dunn, he grew up a MFY fan. Growing up, who was your favorite team? Favorite player? "Favorite player? Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera. If you can't tell off of that, I'm a big-time Yankee guy." Being at Boston College, has it been difficult being a Yankee fan in Boston over the last couple of years? "Yeah, it's been a little difficult. I always represent my team. I go to Fenway wearing my Yankee hat. Not as much anymore, but when I was a freshman I'd wear it. Even when they weren't even playing. I definitely get some flack for it on the team." On the day he was born, the Mets lost to the Marlins, 3-0. When he was two days old, they fell into last place. A week later, they forged a tie for second...the same day the MFYs clinched their first playoff spot in 15 years. He grew up in a world when the easy choice was the wrong choice, but he made it. Hopefully, the Mets have made the right choice and he'll soon forget all those youthful indiscretions.

Dude has a National League Championship ring. Everybody who played last year got one, even Eric O'Flaherty (and to be the "even" example over Akeel Morris, you had to be pretty bleeping bad).

John Oliver loves his team in the upcoming season of Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee, evident at the 0:42 mark. _4c9vphFoSk#t=42

The Mets inspire Broadway's hottest show to new heights in related endeavors. [youtube:27c844gs]X0aZvUgCUb4[/youtube:27c844gs]

Apologies to Michael Conforto, whose significant contribution to Saturday's victory I vapor-locked on while filling out the ballot (I was sharper on these things when we did them right after the game, though I'm glad the current format seems to attract more voters). Now I know how that writer who plum forgot to check Seaver's name in late 1991 felt.

Cool Guys Curtis Granderson, RF Asdrubal Cabrera, SS Yoenis Cespedes, CF Neil Walker, 2B Michael Conforto, LF Wilmer Flores, 3B James Loney, 1B Rene Rivera, C Noah Syndergaard, RHP Dopes Derek Dietrich, 2B Martin Prado, 3B Christian Yelich, LF Marcell Ozuna, CF Giancarlo Stanton, RF Justin Bour, 1B Adeiny Hechavarria, SS Jeff Mathis, C Guy Who May or May Not Have Gone to an Accredited University, RHP

I think Barry Lyons got an invite in 2006 in deference to his having gone through Katrina (could be imagining that angle, though). Lenny asked on Twitter if he should tuck in again, like he did at Shea Goodbye. Apparently he took sartorial grief over that and decided to make it another trademark.

Filling in for the Times on '86 night was a face I couldn't quite place for the longest time. Then I realized it was Filip Bondy. He had more gray than he had in the photo you associate with him, an epidemic situation among venerable journalists and, for that matter, 1986 World Champions. This was somebody I raged at when he wrote his Bleacher Creature paeans in the News (and recurring Met hit jobs) for so long, and in person, he appeared an amiable chap just doin' his job. Disconnect City. I'd been told by a mutual friend that, nah, "Phil" is OK, and I suppose nobody walks around in real life playing the heel at all times. But I still detest everything he wrote in the context of the Met-MFY dynamic of the early 2000s. Perhaps that's the mark of an effective columnist. Or a grudge-bearing reader.

Saw a bunch of these guys up close in the pregame media session; some ducked their heads in and retreated, but most stuck around. Mitch needed a chair after the walk down the hall from the clubhouse to the Shannon Forde Press Conference Room as it's now officially christened, so I was surprised they made him walk all the way down the red carpet. Doc has aged a great deal since the last time I was in proximity to him, which was three years ago. Davey has aged like a regular person ages; quite the garrulous retiree. The Knight-Clinton comparison is apt -- he also attracted Clintonian coverage. Jesse was the most generous with his time, which I found interesting in that in The Worst Team Money Could Buy he was identified as one of the all-time clubhouse "bad guys" of his era, mainly for reading what reporters were writing in their notebooks as he was speaking to them. I was tempted to replicate the move described in the book and scrawl "Go Fuck Yourself, Jesse," but it didn't appear he was doing that anymore. Keith exuded camaraderie with old faces during his brief appearance. Darling, when approached, gave off the vibe that he was tired of meeting people (though he was a fine two-minute interview). Mookie beamed like no "hood ornament" ever did. Ed Hearn is still everyman. Wally wouldn't have minded a cigarette, I'm sure. Bill Robinson's son is a tall drink of water. Darryl was in no rush to exit; he and Orosco were the last two Jay was waiting on for whatever logistical step came next. Marty Noble was effortlessly everybody's old pal. The players he covered were thrilled to see him and they were exchanging phone numbers and email addresses with him (I overheard him say he is out of a job; mlb.com hasn't published a column of his since just before Opening Night). Ed Randall was buttonholing players with apparent success; I heard a couple of them on his show the next morning. Sal Marchiano was spotted. Old Timers Night for press, too. Oh, and for all the professional demeanor I muster in these situations, it was unbelievably awesome that this was going on around me. Why yes, self from 30 years ago, some day you and Doc will be talking hitting. Yeah, sure. Standing next to any of them, they're just people, albeit people you knew had accomplished something that was extraordinary. When the time came for their formal introductions, though, I ignored the credential dangling from my neck and used the upstairs ticket I bought in case my media request fell through. I couldn't think of a better place to watch the 1986 Mets. It was (give or take a stadium) where I watched the 1986 Mets. I couldn't think of a worse place than the press box. "No cheering" there, as you know. What's the point of going to see these guys if you can't do that? "Twelve and six" for Doc bothered me, too. For the record, he won seventeen games in 1986 and it was such a letdown. Geez.