G-Fafif

The 7 Line guy on Headline News, discussing his shirts: [youtube:1v7gofwk]GHSfh4h_tLw[/youtube:1v7gofwk]

metirish wrote: Right, you shall also love the Islanders young Harvey. U cant be a met if u dont renounce misguided residual loyalty to hurricanes cuz they used to be whalers!!!

metirish wrote: Saul probably wears the black cap.....or worse the Spring Training one with the orange going over the ear. Maybe, though I'm guessing Greenwich Yacht Club is more likely.

dont talk out against their brother Jets This one cracks me up, as if Matt Harvey was supposed to sign a Metropolitan Area loyalty oath of some sort. Where does it extend to? "And stop calling them grinders! Those sandwiches are heroes goddammit!"

Bill Stoneman.

Every series thus far but ALCS goes the maximum. The MFYs are a blot on baseball's showcase month and should therefore be contracted. Though I suppose their having imploded will do for now.

Only thing a Mets (or #Mets) fan need Tweet in Matt Harvey's direction is #thankyou.

From an L.A. Times profile of minority-share owner Bill Maher: Dressed casually in a bright blue New York Mets baseball cap and jeans, Maher gathered his seven-member writing staff in a jumbled corner of Television City studios in Los Angeles. Makes me wonder if Fred, Jeff or Saul ever wear a Mets cap behind the scenes. My guess is no.

[youtube:3opacmqo]jzmAuKXfhP4[/youtube:3opacmqo]

Mets � Willets Point wrote: I'm rather fond of the 2008 Yankees' finish. I'd like to see more like that. Highly f'ing underrated year in that regard.

Trying to rank one's favorite MFY postseason losses is like trying to rank one's favorite MFY postseason losses. They're all the best. That said, the deliverance inherent in 2001 -- that, no, they don't always get what they want -- will always have a special place in my MFY-hating soul. And then being given back two rounds of postseason baseball when the Angels mugged them a year later made clear they were plenty vincible. And the Marlins made it a perfect trilogy, especially after the MFYs broke the Sox' hearts in seven games. But how could anything be more perfect than what happened in 2004? Yet all the implosions that have followed have never tasted one less iota delicious just because nothing could top 2004? Oh, it's all good.

And while A-Rod blamed two weeks of postseason futility at the plate, saying it �sucked the energy out of us," another player privately made a far more indicting observation: that the ballclub was affected by the hostility from the fans at Yankee Stadium last weekend. �I really think the booing spooked a lot of guys," the player said. �A lot of guys hadn�t been booed before, and they couldn�t believe how nasty it got in the stands." Obviously Nick Swisher admitted to being sensitive to such treatment after Game 2, but the player said Swisher was far from alone in his reaction. �A lot of guys were talking about it in the clubhouse," he said. �I was surprised by how much it bothered them. I really don�t think they ever recovered." If that�s true, well, so much for the big, bad Yankees. That's the money passage from Harper. And of course it's beautiful. MFYs failing, whining, covering themselves in whatever the opposite of glory is...oh, poetry. But MFY fans showing audible disgust because their team that had just persevered in a five-game death march, forced extra innings the night before and had remained deadlocked through six innings during the game in question couldn't quite hit their way out of an overpriced paper bag in the second game of a League Championship Series, the team's 17th postseason in 18 years...well, fuck them, too. "Ya pays your money, ya have your say" is fine (and it's lots of money), but the time for booing (if you must indulge your baser instincts) is after the fourth error that puts you behind 12-2 in May. Fucking support your team when it really fucking matters. But this is them. Whaddaya expect?

Congratulations to humanity and the Detroit Tigers.

R.I.P. definitive third base coach. Have to confess I was surprised when he emerged for the 40th anniversary introductions in 2009. Didn't realize the man was still, shall we say, walking.

TCM recently aired 1968's Bye Bye Braverman, which yielded a couple of shots of Shea Stadium and World's Fair relics in the background of scenes shot at Cedar Grove Cemetery off the LIE. But they weren't burying the Wes Westrum era.

A comment left on FAFIF -- incredible stuff: I was lucky enough to call Bo Friend my friend. The first time I attended a game with Bo was on May 1, 1981. Rusty hit a two-run shot in the second, but the Mets fell to Ozzie Smith and the brown-and-mustard-uniformed Padres, 4-2. Bo didn�t forget me when baseball returned from the strike that summer. And she remembered me every year after that. I have a shoebox of ticket stubs and lifetime of memories to prove it. Her seats. Oh, those seats. Before Bo, I had never made it past the mezzanine. Now I had a better view than the on-deck batter. Bo would bring me pages and pages of press notes. She�d hand out gumballs designed like baseballs. The Mets logo dangled from each of her ears. Pete Flynn and Jimmy Plummer always made it a point to say hello to her. Future NBAer D.J. Strawberry would sit on her lap and eat ice cream out of a batting helmet. Long before her twirling arms made her a celebrity of sorts, I thought Bo possessed special powers. She seemed to will twin killings, shouting �DP! DP! DP!� loud enough to induce groundballs that ultimately went from Tavares to Flynn to Kingman. The anticipation of Bo coming to get me for a game blew away anything Santa could ever possibly generate. The ride over to Shea was as exciting as the game itself. Bo and her husband, Bob, whom she adored even more than the Mets, would pick up me and my friend in Rutherford and head on Route 17 North, Route 80 East, and the lower level of the GW � talking baseball and the Mets all the way. While on the Harlem River Drive, she taught us to hold our breath when we passed the other stadium in town. And as sure as Piazza always would come through in a big spot, she�d yell out �Big Shea! Big Shea!� once her home away from home came into view from the Grand Central. Bo treated each of her 81 games a year like it was her last, thriving off of the fact that anything was possible in baseball. �It�s not like watching the same John Wayne movie every time where you know the ending,� she�d say. After some games, we�d take the elevator up to the Diamond Club for burgers and fries. �Is that the actual �69 World Series trophy, Bo?� She wouldn�t hesitate to stop Ralph Kiner or Bob Murphy mid-stride so I could meet them. One Friday night before an Old Timers Day, she asked Ed Charles if he would hit a home run for me. The Glider, taking a quick break from gliding adult beverages down his throat, lifted me over his head and said that not only would he hit a homer for me, but he would hit one off of Diamond Vision. For those scoring at home, Charles tapped back to the mound. If the Yankees were playing on our drive back to Jersey, she�d tune in their game and root against them just as hard as she�d root for the Mets. If they weren�t playing, she�d turn the dial to WNEW-AM and listen to the wonderful standards she first heard growing up in Tennessee. Bo never flinched when a foul ball came screaming at the fence before her. She sang each word to the �Star-Spangled Banner� and � when the Expos were in town � sang each word to �Oh, Canada.� And, oh, how she loved and lived to root, root, root for the home team. �Moooo-kie. Moooo-kie.� �Let�s go, Gary!� �Get tough, Teufel.� �Here we go Mets. Here we go.� �Go get �em, Doc!� �Hubie doobie do.� �Now, Foster. Now!� But my favorite was when she taunted Philadelphia�s Randy Ready all the way back to the dugout after he whiffed for the third time. �Randy wasn�t ready. Randy wasn�t ready. Randy wasn�t ready.� She�d cry after the last home game each year, and then immediately begin counting down the days to the next home opener. Today feels like all 50 season finales rolled into one. You see, I was lucky enough to call Bo Field my friend.

Outstanding re-find from the archives, BML. Obviously the Red Sox pitchers were lying. Obviously.

The day has long since passed when a waitress could afford behind-home-plate seats. RIP to a woman and an era. One has absolutely no idea of the lady's personal life or what her financial situation was; for all we know, she was independently wealthy and waitressed for the love of the people she saw every day or night. But, barring that unlikely scenario, I was thinking the same thing.

Verducci: fallen angel. As a youngster, Verducci was a Mets fan and worked a newspaper route delivering the Star-Ledger. He got his first peek inside the sports-as-news business while eavesdropping on reporters interviewing his father after Seton Hall Prep football games. He then could read his father�s quotes in the next day�s newspaper. �There was a bit of magic,� Verducci says. �I got to see behind the curtain.�

Jayson Stark praising Carlos Beltran's postseason bona fides to the hilt, as if everything he's ever done isn't automatically defined by one unfortunately timed strikeout. For Carlos Beltran, meanwhile, there isn't an experience in his career he would trade for the season he has spent with this team. He has been a gigantic part of what the Cardinals have become and where they've lifted themselves. But he still finds himself in, well, awe of what he has seen the men around him do -- starting with the unforgettable rally from six runs down Friday night in D.C. "I didn't sleep that night," he said Sunday, two days after that postseason comeback for the ages. "I still go like this sometimes." He looked at the folks around him. He shook his head. Side to side. Then side to side again. He looked around again to make sure everyone had gotten his drift. "I shake my head," he went on. "My wife says to me, 'Why are you shaking your head?' I say, 'It's unbelievable what happened.' It was just incredible, how we were able to win that ball game, how we were able to put up those at-bats. I mean, it was incredible." Beltran was as emotional after that game as people who have known him for years have ever seen him. And he credited his teammates for lifting him to that unique place in time. But on Sunday, he was the one lifting them, with a mammoth two-run homer that floated back to earth a third of the way up the bleachers in left. It was just a year ago that Beltran spent the last two months of his season playing in this park, for the Giants. So he knows well that, thanks to pitcher-friendly inventions like the Northern California marine layer, not all mammoth fly balls turn into game-breaking home runs. But for once, when this one left the bat, he wasn't worried. "With this one, as soon as I hit it, I knew I hit it good," he said. "Last year here, yes, I hit some balls and went, 'Wow, I got this one,' and no chance. They never even made it to the warning track. But this time, I knew." When that baseball landed, the Cardinals had a 6-0 fourth-inning lead, and a large enough cushion to withstand a four-run Giants rally in the bottom of the fourth. But it also represented one more opportunity to appreciate what a special player Beltran has been on this October stage. After 133 postseason trips to the plate, Beltran's career October OPS is now 1.305. That ranks him No. 1 in the history of baseball. His OBP is now .481. That's also No. 1. Only one other National Leaguer in history has ever hit more postseason home runs than the 14 Beltran has now hit -- Albert Pujols (18). And only two other men, period, own at least 14 postseason home runs and a postseason batting average of .325 or better. One is Pujols. The other is Babe Ruth. But when Beltran was asked Sunday night, after his third home run of this postseason, if "this is your time," he preferred to think big picture. "I don't see it that way," he said. "This is about a team. This is about us, trying to go out there and win. I'm just trying to do my part � and it feels like good things are happening. I can't explain what it is. Right now, the way I feel, I feel calm. I feel relaxed. I'm not trying to do too much. I'm just letting the game come to me." But he also understands that he's 35 now, that health isn't something he can take for granted, and that he finds himself playing for a team that could finally allow him to make his long-time World Series dreams come true. "Playing in the World Series, that's a dream for me," he said. "And since I signed, since my first day in the big leagues, I always wanted to have that opportunity. � And I understand now that winning the World Series is not an easy thing to do. Look at what happened in Texas. They've been to the World Series twice. They never win it. And that shows how hard it is to win a World Series. "In my case, God only knows how many more chances I'm going to get. So I'm just enjoying myself, and enjoying this time." Maybe, after all these years, after a journey that has taken him from Kansas City to Houston, from New York to San Francisco, and now, finally, to St. Louis, he is finally in the right time and place. There are too many games left to play in this postseason to say that for sure, of course, and too many games left to win. But he finds himself now on a team that just seems to get what October baseball is all about. And it keeps proving it, night after spine-tingling night.

bmfc1 wrote: Bo still lives on as when fans are sitting in the comparable seats, they often make that motion. I noticed it last night at Phone Company Park, though it was while the home team was in the field. Bo knew better.

Champ Summers, 66, victim of kidney cancer. Enjoyed his time as a Tiger most, according to his wife; I remember him more as a Cub (drew a walk vs. Seaver in the 10th inning of the Joe Wallis Game) and a Red (pinch-hit for Pat Zachry, struck out in Seaver's last Shea pre-trade start).

Nick Swisher whining about MFYS III hostility toward him to the Snooze reads like an Onion story almost. My favorite part is his sudden realization that MFYS III isn't Care Bear Village. Nick Swisher�s relationship with the fans at Yankee Stadium � especially his beloved Bleacher Creatures in right field � admittedly has taken more hits in these playoffs than he�s managed at the plate. Swisher is mired in his fourth consecutive postseason slump since joining the Yankees, and the pending free agent has been noticeably stung that the fans booed their one-time favorite and several teammates throughout most of the back-to-back home losses Saturday and Sunday against the Tigers. �As the game progresses, you�re trying to go up there and get a hit. If you don�t, people let you know about it,� said Swisher, who is batting .154 with one RBI through seven postseason games this October. �It�s a tough spot. Hey man, I guess that�s playing in New York... That�s New York for you. �It�s a crazy game. Being here in New York, obviously there�s a lot of expectations. I don�t know what to say, bro. I�m just going to kind of let it go.� But the always gregarious Swisher couldn�t let it go, especially since he believes some fans made it personal with verbal attacks this weekend aimed at him and several inappropriate tweets about him to his wife, actress JoAnna Garcia. �(Saturday) night was pretty big. A lot of people saying a lot of things that I�ve never heard before,� Swisher said. �Prime example - I missed that ball in the lights and the next thing you know, I�m the reason that (Derek) Jeter got hurt. It�s kind of frustrating. They were saying it was my fault.� Swisher, who may have played his final home game as a Yankee if the series doesn�t return to New York, normally does an emphatic military salute to the Bleacher Creatures during their customary first-inning roll call, but he admittedly took warm-up throws closer to the infield and noticeably toned down his interaction with those fans during Sunday�s 3-0 loss. �That�s the last thing that I ever thought would be in this ballpark, that people would get on you that bad,� said Swisher, who is an unfathomable 1-for-34 with runners in scoring position in his postseason career. �Especially your home, where your heart is, where you�ve been battling and grinding all year long. It�s just frustrating, man. You never want to be in that spot. It�s not like you�re trying to go out there and do bad on purpose. It�s just tough, man. �It hurts. Sometimes I�m a sensitive guy and some of the things people say, they get under your skin a little bit. I�ve been lucky to be here for the past four years, bro. We�re not going to go out like this. We�re going to go to Detroit and give everything we�ve got.� Swisher even allowed that it might be beneficial to the Yankees to get away from the Bronx for the next three games - well, two, at least - after the hostile reception they�ve received at times from the home crowd while struggling to produce runs in the postseason. �Maybe, man. I�ve been so fortunate to be here and play every day. When things kind of turn like that, it kind of hurts a little bit,� Swisher said. �This is the type of city and crowd that really rallies around their team. That�s the reason we�ve got 27 championships. To go through a stretch like this where it�s kind of a negative attitude, a negative type setting, that�s tough. But hey, that�s part of the game. Rightfully so. There are a lot of expectations here and I guess when you don�t get the job done, you�re going to hear about it. �I�m one of those guys that if you give me a hug, I�ll run through a brick wall for you, man. It just seems right now like there�s just a lot of... I�m trying to find a way to word this the right way. . . . It�s tough. It�s really tough. You want to go out and play for your city, play for your team. Right now, it�s just really tough.�

A year ago, we tried to track down Bo Field, a.k.a. the lady who rolled her arms behind home plate during the 1986 World Series, at the request of a friend. Tonight, I received a sad update. Bo Field, 84, of Kearny, N.J., died on Oct. 13, 2012. Born in Chattanooga, Tenn., Mrs. Field moved to New Jersey 65 years ago, living most of her life in Kearny. She was a waitress at The Arlington Diner when it first opened, for 15 years. She then worked at The Lyndhurst Diner for 25 years, retiring 15 years ago. Known as "The Mets Lady," she was a diehard Mets fan who was well-known at Shea Stadium. She was a season ticket holder who sat behind home plate and was televised many times. She attended many home games and because of her many "cameos" she was asked for her autograph by many people. The fellow who sent us the news added, "I knew her before I knew who she really was. She was my waitress for many years at the Lyndhurst Diner in Jersey. Her real name was Barbara. Having known her for years, one night, she came into the diner decked in Mets regalia. It was at that moment, in 1996, that I realized I'd known the lady who twirled her arms to distract Bob Stanley."

metsguyinmichigan wrote: Do you think he leaves out the Mets on purpose, or is my Mets-hating-Verducci meter too sensitive? Verducci was with Newsday then. He should know better.