The Veterans Committee pays homage to the two originals, from the Polo Grounds, as chronicled by George Vecsey in Joy in Mudville: Looie Kleppel and Mother of the Mets. They were the twin sirens of the Harlem River, the Scylla and Charybdis of 155th Street. To navigate them safely required all the nerve a wayfaring player could muster. Looie and Mother of the Mets were not friends. They traded charges about the misappropriation of funds after a collection for a watch for Willie Mays back in the 1950s. Whatever the reason, when the Mets were formed Looie took one side of the bleachers and Mother of the Mets took the other. Together they formed stereophonic sound but they were strictly soloists and never a duet. "Hickman," Looie would shout. "Hickman, listen to me. You've got to swing at the first pich, Hickman. A big boy like you, you could be a star. I taught Whitey Lockman. Ask Monte Irvin what I did for him. Hickman, are you listening to me?" And Jim Hickman, still unsure of himself in his first nervous months in the big city, would glance sideways, utter a nervous "hello, Looie" as he passed [on his way to the center field clubhouse]. This was like playing dues because Looie threatened to "roast you like a potato" if you ignored him. Mother of the Mets had a different style, preaching to her own congregation. She was a big-boned Negro woman who had spent her years working for a wealthy family, and she now seemed comfortable in retirement. She called herself "Mother of the Mets" but her real name, she said, was Sadie James. [Her] motherly advice would be broadcast to the players -- visiting and home -- as they clumped down the wooden steps. Looie and Sadie both had the kind of noisy charisma that attracted knots of gaping youngsters. Little boys from the North Bronx or Rego Park or Leonia, N.J., followed these sages of the bleachers, absorbing the wisdom of the ages. Sadie tended to mother her young followers, drawing them together. She also brought congratulations cards for players or reporters whose wives had given birth. She thought of the Mets as her family, and she frequently lamented: "What am I going to do when my boys move to that new stadium?"