G-Fafif

Turner 2.0 den Dekker 1.5 d'Arnaud 1.5 Murphy 1.0 Black 1.0 Feliciano 1.0 Duda 0.5

BTW, for all the 'FAN-bashing -- much of it deserved -- you may soon find yourself finding the Mets on WOR, which will be the New York home of Rush Limbaugh come 2014, or WEPN, where Michael Kay holds sway. Suddenly crappy WFAN sounds pretty good.

This sort of thing can't help but be taken personally. If you live in 'x' and the signal of WT(o)B(e)A(nnounced) doesn't come in, then it's a kick in to the Mets fan solar plexus. On a grander scale, I'd say it sucks from a branding standpoint, though it's no like the Mets were really benefiting from association by being on the FAN. When the Mets were great (which was just before WFAN came along, actually -- maybe the curse will be lifted!), they were a great radio property. The rest of the time, they're there for us. It's just easier when they're where we can grab them with the least hassle and the clearest signal. Per Zvon's question, Mets over-the-air TV moved to Channel 11 in 1999. Mets made the playoffs that season and the next. I still instinctively think they're on Channel 9, but in the long run, it only impeded my enjoyment nostalgically. (And at least once a year, I tune to 1050 thinking the game will be on there.)

batmagadanleadoff wrote: batmagadanleadoff wrote: Wh@se Ex Mets H*me Am I? T@m Gl%v!ne. Non-traditional spelling of T#m Gl@v!ne, but we'll accept it. As long as he's comfortable.

The Fonzie estate alluded to above.

The Mets schedule is never more exciting than when it is yet to be played. A year ago at this time, this current homestand probably piqued somebody's interest no end.

Is that the Fonzie mansion in Queens?

Off the top of my head, I don't know much about this Met and I'm not in the mood to google him, either. So I'll tell you what little I do know: He was a Met, a Toppless Met. But The Man From Topps yada yada yada you know the drill sees everything blah blah blah. The late Jay Kleven.

Lutz 1.0

965. Sean Henn

Harang 44 Centeno 36 Henn 43 Hike!

Some Mets: Young, Jr. - LF Murphy - 2B Brown - RF Duda - 1B Turner - SS Lagares - CF Flores - 3B d'Arnaud - C Torres - P

Some Nats: Span 8, Zimmerman 5, Werth 9, Desmond 6, LaRoche 3, Ramos 2, Moore 7, Rendon 4, Gonzalez 1

Frayed Knot wrote: while the Rangers host the Pirates. I keep trying to rationalize the scheduling of stray Interleague series in September is no different from some random matchup between AFC and NFC teams in December, but I'm not quite buying. PIT at TEX is just weird on September 9, and will be for years to come.

Cotton and Hansen fictitiously honored, along with the man who would've sold the shirts right off their backs, June 10, 2008.

That's as many as I can recall offhand. I know Wilbur Huckle is a matter of conjecture in this department.

Not available in polyester or lycra...only Cotton, Billy.

Now that we've finished playing the Braves every five minutes, we're playing the Nationals every five minutes.

From November 2012 (close enough), Ben Austen immerses himself among the lost souls of the Bills Mafia and affiliated communities. A great look at what a team -- even a losing one -- means to a town -- also a losing one. It was about 24 hours till kickoff, and the Bills Mafia had taken over the Hotel Lafayette's bar in downtown Buffalo. They numbered in the 50s, though possibly there were many more. Other hotel patrons and passersby also wore Ryan Fitzpatrick jerseys and T-shirts with proclamations that said BE LOUD, BE PROUD, BELIEVE! Buffalo the team and the town, so long locked in a spiral of mutual hardship, seemed more culturally entwined than any other city and its professional sports franchise. I headed there during the run-up to the Bills' September game against New England, a festive time known locally as "Patriots Week." The Bills Mafia was observing the occasion by replaying the entire telecast of last year's Bills win over the Pats, watching the game with a holiday's gaiety, reflection, and thanks. Their celebration of the Bills was the third I had stumbled upon in two days. As early as Thursday, the game-day blimp already appeared to be pacing the skies overhead, as if personifying the teeming anticipation in the tiny-seeming people down below. The Bills Mafia called its gathering a pre-tailgate party, since members also planned to convene outside Ralph Wilson Stadium early the next morning. The Mafia was a Twitter group whose 9,000 followers include Fred Jackson, Aaron Williams, and several other current Bills players. Linebacker Nick Barnett sent a gift basket and signed gear to the bar for a Bills Mafia raffle. LaMark Brown, a 23-year-old tight end on the practice squad, joined the meet-up, talking to fans for three hours. (At the time I thought this noble and possibly expedient, a way to build a grassroots following that would lobby for his signing and extended playing time, but come Monday he was cut.) Del Reid, the group's co-founder, showed me a fist-size tattoo above his heart, the colors still moist, of the Bills Mafia logo � the Twitter bird in navy blue with a Bills red streak running along its side. Del explained that the group formed by accident, not long after Stevie � that's Bills wide receiver Stevie Johnson � dropped that pass against the Steelers; you know, the one that would have won the game back in 2010. "I PRAISE YOU 24/7!!!!!! AND THIS HOW YOU DO ME!!!!!" Stevie had tweeted. To God. The true Buffalo fans reacted by sending Johnson tweets of support. They were intimate with anguish and loss. Forget the disappearance from the city of factories and jobs and more than half the population, the Bills hadn't won a title since 1965, back when they still played in the American Football League. And over the past 12 seasons, the team hadn't even managed a wild-card berth in the playoffs, finishing above .500 just once in that stretch. Real Bills fans implicitly understood that a period of amnesty existed for no less than a day after any game, a window in which you were forgiven for whatever batshit form the enduring despair took until by, say, Tuesday, an unrequited hopefulness again took flight. But ESPN's Adam Schefter was no true fan. He retweeted Johnson's words a whole day later, which in Twitter time, Del said, might as well be 100 years. And so the social media mob dealt with it, bombarding Schefter's account with barbs for piling on so late. Someone referred to these stalwarts as the Bills Mafia, and the group was born. They became made men. Thomas DeLaus, a 24-year-old front-end supervisor at Walmart, and Nick Primerano, 31, who sells communications systems to the federal government, broke down the ethos of the group, and really of the Bills faithful more generally. "It's been a rough decade," Thomas said. "But we're a positive push for growth," Nick chimed in. "The hashtag can't be used for negativity." "No matter what, we're about team." "Whether wide right � " "And no matter what happens at 'The Ralph' tomorrow � " "It doesn't matter if it's zero degrees at the game � " "We back the players." "Community," said Thomas. "Once Bills Mafia, always Bills Mafia." The two of them seemed perfectly in sync, like a quarterback and receiver who after many seasons learn to anticipate each other's moves. Despite some differences in appearance � Nick's black goatee to Thomas's wispy blond one, Nick's bench-press bulldog build and Thomas's willowy frame � they were even dressed alike. Both wore Bills Mafia caps backward and cocked at the same leftward slant, rubber Bills Mafia bracelets, and Bills jerseys hanging loosely over jeans. So I was surprised to learn that they had met in real life only a few moments before. Up until today, they had known one another only through the tweets of @RandomlyRufus and @RealNickPrim. "I saw Fred Jackson at the mall," Nick said of the Bills running back. "I said 'Bills Mafia' to him. He said it back and gave me a pound. Now it's part of Bills nomenclature." Another fan there worried aloud that I might think them pitiful for rewatching last season's game. On the television, the year-old contest had reached the fourth quarter, and most everyone had thronged in front of the set. "I don't care if you do," the fan decided, clearly relieved. That 2011 game against the Patriots had been particularly special. Buffalo had lost 15 in a row to New England until then, dating back to the season opener in 2003, and 20 of the last 21. Tom Brady ruled them. An old-timer at the bar compared the victory last year to one in 1980 that snapped a 20-game losing streak against Don Shula's Dolphins. After last year's win, the fans remained in the stadium for 40 minutes; security ringed the field while groundskeepers preemptively took down the goalposts. Fred Jackson lofted a Bills flag and raced across the turf. The Bills were 3-0 at that point and had vanquished their nemesis. Buffalonians started debating who among them were the diehards and who were the Johnny-come-lately bandwaggoners. Bills management quickly worked out a six-year, $59 million contract extension for their quarterback, Ryan Fitzpatrick, who was with his third team and had tossed almost as many career interceptions as touchdowns. The Bills ended up losing 10 of their next 13 games. "It says a lot," a 25-year-old fan reflected, "that the greatest moment in my life is a Week 3 win over New England." The bar fell silent in the waning seconds of the year-old telecast. Bartenders stopped serving, craning their necks screenward. Older folk dining in booths laid down their utensils. "I have butterflies," Del said. When they again watched Rian Lindell kick the winning field goal as time expired, the bar shook with exultation. Fans started a chorus of the team's anthem, a version of the "Shout" song that is chanted heartily at many a Western New York wedding. "Hey-ay-ay-ay! Let's go, Buff-uh-low! The Bills make me want to SHOUT!" Someone yelled, "Fandemonium!" Jacob Gauda, a hulking 30-year-old prep cook who dressed up for games in a kind of carnival-cum-Hun regalia of zebra-print Zubaz pants, beads, helmet, and tie-dyed leg compressors, was recalling with astonishment his reaction from a year before. "I was hugging people," he announced. "I was just hugging everyone." Then last year's broadcast showed the instant replay of the very same kick. And the scene inside the bar became its own instant replay: All eyes locked on the screen, sound stopped, the patrons enrapt.

This player appeared in a Topps baseball set in two different seasons: once as a Met and once as a Cub. But he only played in actual MLB games for one of the two teams. The Mets and the Cubs are the only organizations this player ever belonged to. "What the guy above me in the Cards uniform just said. Except I've got the repeating consecutive letters in my last name only". bump Damn I know his face. The next clue is in this anagram: A Citi Field Hookworm Intro Hi (Randy) Bobb.