G-Fafif

Thanks to Luke Scott, I now know this: This country is basically built on an attitude. That part sounds like a Levi's commercial. The rest...read Seo's link. I was thrilled when Carlos Beltran made that tumbling catch on Tal's Idiotic Hill in Houston to rob Scott of a game-winning hit in what became a 17-inning Mets triumph three years ago. Now I'm elated.

Jack DiLauro, whom I met as an Astro in the 1970 set.

It's not like they haven't had their share of high draft choices.

Over quickly. Even Fran-say-so called it a "colossal waste of time".

MFYs having self-congratulatory presser, in Tampa. Cuts down on likelihood of questions regarding "Where's the Chinese ballplayers at?"

Omir Santos to Tigers; Ty Wigginton to Rockies; J.J. Putz to Diamondbacks; Roberto Alomar to where, one wonders, after he seemed so happy to be here when he had just arrived. ''Finally I get a chance to wear this uniform,'' he said. ''I'm excited. It's like being a little kid again.''

Steve Phillips was an idiot eleven years ago today, after the Mariners signed John Olerud away from the Mets. Steve Phillips used words like exciting and interesting and fun; only he wasn't describing his winter vacation. The Mets' general manager was reacting to the defection of John Olerud to the Seattle Mariners yesterday, and the task he faces in replacing the team's productive first baseman. A more appropriate choice of words would have been: oh no, egads and say it ain't so.

Carlos Beltran, shipped off in new Mets GM Sandy Alderson's winter housecleaning, has emerged as a legitimate A.L. MVP candidate. While Beltran has led the Red Sox to a surprisingly comfortable first-place lead over the Yankees, Alderson has to be hoping the prospects he acquired in January pan out eventually. Right now, the last-place Mets have egg on their faces. Just a hunch, on the off chance it happens.

If you guys could get John Mitchell, that would be beautiful. 'Twas spoken by Jane Alexander as bookkeeper Judy Hoback to Dustin Hoffman as Carl Bernstein in All The President's Men. However many dozens of times I've seen this movie, I never thought of anybody but the mastermind of the Comittee to Re-Elect the President (or CREEP, as it was known in 1972). On my most recent viewing, I skipped right over that Mitchell to the Mitchell who came to the Mets in the Bobby Ojeda trade and threw very slow stuff in an effort to hold back the overwhelming Cardinal red tide of 1987. I wonder if Jane Alexander spoke to Frank Cashen before he made that deal. Oh, and here's some dude who once masqueraded as John Mitchell...the Met, not the CREEP.

Verducci meant to check off "Miller" but accidentally wrote in "Jeter".

Those are sixteen men who should have read Jerry Izenberg's piece in the Star-Ledger from Sunday. The more serious the players became under Miller�s direction, the more ferocious became the owners� attempts to smear him. They still could not believe that the players had actually voted the demon into their collective household. You may recall that at that time the owners were still busily promulgating the myth that players were ungrateful (the reserve clause only held them in economic slavery for decades), fans were merely lucky recipients of management�s sacrifices and without the commissioner of baseball to tell us how many angels could dance on the head of a spitball and to rule fairly and impartially on all team-player disputes, the core of the American fabric was doomed. In truth, what was really doomed was management�s total grip on the collective, economic jugular vein of every pitcher, catcher and batter in the major leagues. For the record, this is what the Miller era did for them: Aided by the courage of an outfielder named Curt Flood, he challenged the reserve clause that bound players to their teams until death or trade do they part. He negotiated the first collective-bargaining agreement with the team owners in 1968. Two years later, he was able to get arbitration included in the collective-bargaining agreement, bringing an independent arbiter into the process and taking that role out of the biased hands of whoever happened to be commissioner. In 1974 he triggered the Catfish Hunter, Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally cases that opened the free-agent floodgates. And so it went until his giant shadow ultimately changed labor practices between foul lines everywhere. He turned major league baseball players from �indentured serfs� into potential millionaires. What the owners won�t tell you, but what the players should never forget, is that he also bargained with management for improved scheduling, padded outfield walls, better-defined warning tracks and safer locker rooms � and won. Twice he has failed to be elected to baseball�s Hall of Fame. He is up for election again this week. If baseball doesn�t get it right this time, then the players ought to buy the Hall of Fame, throw out all the owners and commissioners plaques and install him on their own. Without him, they�d still be playing for a $10,000 minimum salary with no pension and no rights. He changed their business every bit as much as Jackie Robinson did. Some of the old-line owners never recovered from either of them.

A question about Miller. Is the vet committee mostly made up of former players?, if yes then why are they not voting him in, they benefited from him right? Per the HOF press release from July: A Committee of 16 individuals comprised of Hall of Fame members, veteran writers and historians, appointed by the Board of Directors.

Not George Steinbrenner? Ach du lieber!

Tells John Harper Michael Lewis was full of bleep...in more diplomatic terms. Ricciardi, sitting down for an interview in his hometown of Worcester last week, winced at the mention of "Moneyball." "It's been a farce," he said. "Michael Lewis is an outstanding writer, but there were a lot of liberties taken with the book that really didn't paint a lot of people in the right light." [...] "I found it funny that I got penciled as a geek or a moneyball guy," said Ricciardi, "when my whole background was in scouting and player development, with the ability to see something in a player and use that to take him in the draft or make a trade. "The book made it seem as if we didn't value scouts, and it created such a wedge between the so-called traditional baseball people and the non-traditional that I didn't think it was fair. "We did a lot of the things with the A's because we had no money, and we had to find value in players that didn't cost a lot. That's where I think the whole Moneyball concept was mangled. We believed in on-base percentage because we thought it gave us a bit of an edge. We were looking for any edge we could get to close the payroll gap (with other contenders) in any way, shape, or form. "We did things like trading for Jason Isringhausen and making him a closer, but we could do things like that because we had the opportunity and the need to find ways to fill holes. We didn't walk around saying we were smarter than everybody else, but the book tried to make it seem like that. "We never said we should get rid of scouts and just use stats. We were just smart enough to use some of that to help make good decisions. Today, I think the game has gone too far in the direction of using stats. I think there's a happy medium, with a need for evaluating players based on what you see with your own eyes." Ricciardi said he does believe in some of the offensive philosophies that became associated with Moneyball, such as valuing on-base percentage and power while not giving away outs in the form of sacrifice bunts or stolen base attempts. However, he also said that Alderson will adapt that philosophy now in the National League, in a big ballpark with a ballclub that led the league in steals last season. "We have no problem with running as long as we have a high rate of success," said Riccardi. "I still think we're going to value those 27 outs. Obviously, in the National League, pitchers have to bunt, but I also think Earl Weaver was right a long time ago when he said that if you play for one run, you get one run." Riccardi also said that outfield defense in spcacious Citi Field will be more of a priority than it was in the AL, and he said that manager Terry Collins will have more freedom to play the aggressive style he said he favors than people might think based on all the Moneyball talk. "That's another misconception," said Ricciardi, "that Big Brother is up in the sky, controlling every move the manager makes. There has to be cohesiveness between the front office and the manager, but we want Terry to use his instincts, his thought process during games. We want the manager to be able to think on his feet and make the moves that give us the best chance to win."

Two Mets-related football notes I picked up over the weekend: 1) University of South Florida quarterback Bobby Eveld -- true freshman walk-on who led the Bulls to their glorious victory over Miami last week after an injury to starter B.J. Daniels -- was the Mets' 50th-round and final pick of the June 2010 amateur draft. Athletic enough that he was drafted by the Mets as a catcher, he chose football and USF, liking the coaching staff and the chance to play close to home, but still on a major stage. Had the Mets still trained in St. Pete, I don't see how he could have passed up baseball. 2) Jets GM Mike Tannenbaum long ago played a role in grooming Mets minor leaguers...or at least their path to stardom. Tannenbaum's career path began one mile up the road at Wahconah Park with the Class-A Pittsfield Mets of the New York-Penn League. He raked the infield, put cheese on the nachos, and did just about anything else as an unpaid intern. He worked through the night so that he could work all day for free. His night job was at the post office. When he figured out precisely the moment he had made enough money to reimburse a local family for the $200 rent he owed them, he slotted his last letter, and walked out. According to UMDB, the only future Met on the 1991 Pittsfield club -- the team for which Tannenbaum interned -- was Ricky Otero, but two others made the bigs: Hector Carrasco and Quilvio Veras. Also on hand was future Met minor league manager Tony Tijerina.

Excellent keyboarding -- and valuable nugget of information. I like how the New York Times cannot be bothered with you people. Around the time Frank Cashen was giving the boot to Joe Torre, I was calling my local newspaper -- outside of the NYC area -- for a Mets score. The paper advertised the service on Sundays during the NFL season. The fellow on the other end of the line was gracious and accommodating enough, but told me he didn't mind giving out a baseball score or two or that of the region's football team, but these people who call and want you to read them every NFL score...it's just too much, y'know? I wonder when was the last time somebody called a newspaper for a professional sports score.

batmagadanleadoff wrote: I would've liked for you to have typed the TSN article one word at a time, just like I typed the NYT blurb. I have a 1968 New York magazine that features an article on the Mets pitching staff. A good number of credible in-the-know sorts all believed that Dick Selma possessed the team's best arm. I already passed typing. It's all this other crazy Internet stuff I'm still getting the hang of. What blurb is that (as I may have missed it)?

The end of Rube Walker's stay with the Mets coincided with the dismissal of Joe Torre as manager in 1981, yet in the Last Days of Torre, Joe apparently had it up to here (his hand was under his chin). So, I think, did Jack Lang. From The Sporting News of October 17, 1981: For the first time in his managerial career, Torre suspended two of his players. Dyar Miller and Ron Hodges were discovered having a beer in the hotel bar, in violation of club rules. Torre himself was in the bar at the time. Both players were suspended without pay for three days. They were appealing the suspensions. ... Joel Youngblood's days as a Met may be numbered. The utilityman did not play after mid-August, preferring instead to rest a strained knee ligament. Some cynics thought he was intent on protecting his .350 average, for whatever that was worth. ... Right fielder Ellis Valentine continued to miss cutoff men. It probably cost him although Torre never mentioned fines. ... Further evidence of Torre's strong hand: He fined Neil Allen several hundred dollars for reporting late to the park in Chicago. Rookies Mike Howard and Brian Giles were assessed smaller amounts for the same violation. Loose ship. Where was Billy Wagner when we needed him?

From The Sporting News of June 1, 1968: Sadly, Ed Kranepool isn't quite as beloved that particular week in Mets history.

Police say both men are in their 40s. One of the suspects was seen wearing a blue and orange Mets jacket. What?

Ken Levine with a nice tribute. How can someone have heart problems, diabetes, several amputations, bladder cancer, and worse, be a lifelong Cubs fan, and still be the cheeriest person you�ve ever met? That was Ron Santo, and that was his gift. Ron passed away on Thursday. He was 70. The man who lived under the darkest cloud provided the most sunshine for everyone else. Older readers remember Santo as a Hall of Fame-worthy Cubs� third baseman. The fact that he�s not in the Hall-of-Fame is yet another injustice he endured with dignity and good cheer. But more people know him as the Chicago Cubs radio analyst on WGN along with superb partner, Pat Hughes. Ron�s analysis was unique to say the least. Some examples: Ron: �Ohhhhh no!!!!!� Ron: �Yeah, baby� yeah baby� YEAH!!!!� He broke down the game with his heart, as well as his eyes. And the genuine passion he had for the game and the team and the fans made his broadcasts not just informative but special. He mangled the language but so what? I was listening a couple of months ago and he described a certain catcher as having a �mind like a cannon�. The point is, you knew what he meant. Most of the time.

I hope y'all got to see 1982. If you didn't, you missed: --A half-hour with Steve Lamar, who would have you pining for a long car ride with Wayne Hagin --One brief mention of the excitement surrounding George Foster, which seems to die after exactly one game. (Though Foster does get a high five from a less partisan Philly Phanatic.) --The Maza family, which keeps score, gets a cap and tips the usher en route to a Great Time at Shea --Buddy Harrelson of the Future, Ron Gardenhire --Minor league footage of Jose "Oh-kwen-doh" --The long-term promise of Jeff Bittiger --Craig Swan with three days' growth --George Bamberger not looking dismayed --"Hustlin' Mookie Wilson" --Desperate flashbacks to the 1963 highlight film (with new, helpful Chyron graphics that identified "Casey Stengel," in case you didn't know who was talking about all them placards) --Production music out of the yin-yang --And, best of all, not one but TWO segments devoted to that great-looking rookie in the outfield...DiamondVision, "the scoreboard of the '80s" I'd love to say it meant well in the spirit of the '60s highlight films wherein true highlights were hard to come by, but its hokey cheeriness and evasion of a clear narrative just underscored how fucking awful 1982 turned over the final four months. That said, a few indisputable super fun things: --A lengthy segment (lots of lengthy segments needed to suck up time otherwise devoted to 97 brutal losses) in which the 1962 Opening Day lineup is recalled through closeups of the Original Mets' baseball cards, artifacts you were less likely to see then than you are now on Internet bulletin boards and such. --Sherman "Roadblock" Jones, in Starter jacket, throwing out the first pitch in the Home Opener, commemorating his role 20 years earlier as the first Home Opener starter (there seemed to be a vague Twenty Years of Mets theme informing the film when it remembered to have a theme). --Restaurateur of the '10s Darryl Strawberry, in tuxedo shirt and bowtie (no jacket), picking up his Doubleday award, and being interviewed by Jackson, Miss. TV on how every day in every way he keeps getting better and better. --Dave Kingman blasting his franchise-best 119th home run, and Lamar, to his or the scriptwriter's credit, referring to it as a "Sky King" shot. --Tacked on at the end, a slice of Tom Seaver's return press conference, during which he (accurately) warned the results might be there but the effort would be and, by the way, he's happy to be a New York Met again. This was followed by a shot of players gathering around Bamberger in his second Spring Training and Lamar Haganistically reminding us Opening Day is April 5, 1983! No Mets Yearbook isn't a worthwhile endeavor, but even with 28 years to gird myself, I sure cringed a whole lot.

I prefer Steve Phillips: Kiss My Ass.

Fine photographs, distressing subject.

That last card made me look it up: Randolph was 0-for-4 with a walk as a Met against Glavine.