G-Fafif

John Cougar Lunchbucket wrote: Incredibly bright sun on the field; incredibly cold wind on my neck at the Bobby Jones Game. Shea felt like it was plotted on several completely different latitudes depending on where one sat. I'm surprised you didn't have to reset your watch to Eastern time once you made your way from the Upper Deck to the exits. Last row, Mezz, fair territory, left field Bobby Jones game THE COLDEST I have ever been at a Mets game. Exceeded previous champion, a night that April -- Griffey's first at Shea as a Red -- when Manny bleeping Aybar took 20 minutes (more or less) between each pitch. That one edged Jackie Robinson Night. (I think the wind is worse at CF, however, at least in April and May.) Was very cold on a Saturday afternoon in early 2006, but we got rained out after sitting around for an hour, which made total sense since it was too disgusting to play. When the game was called before it ever started, it was like early parole.

A vendor on Field Level, first base side, final game of 1995 gave me a free soda.

Takahashi 3.0 Wright 2.0 Niese 1.0 Pagan 1.0 Francoeur 0.5 Matthews 0.5 Catalanotto 0.5 Cora 0.5

Met-rofitted homage here.

Field Level seats mostly sucked. Mezzanine was fine. Four seating levels is all you needed.

I carry a torch for the New York Giants. But I carry a pitchfork for the San Francisco Giants. May the home team take one to Jonathan Sanchez early and often.

Mike Sielski of the Journal says "Hey Mac," and Mac replies. One Batter and He Was History Mac Scarce's Last-Pitch Loss to Pirates in 1975 Came in His Only Game as a Met Mac Scarce doesn't remember much about the night his playing career with the Mets began and ended. The infielders playing behind him? He couldn't say. The whole thing lasted only a few pitches, and so many years have passed since. "You do know this was in 1975, right?" he said. When Mets reliever Manny Acosta gave up a game-ending home run Monday night to pinch-hitter Laynce Nix, giving the Reds a 3-2, 11-inning victory, the moment harkened back 35 years, to Mr. Scarce and stranger circumstances surrounding a last-pitch Mets loss. On April 11, 1975, at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, Mr. Scarce surrendered a bases-loaded single in the bottom of the ninth inning to the Pirates' Richie Hebner. Mr. Hebner's hit won the game for the Pirates, 4-3, and completed a four-run comeback in the inning. In the short term, the game was a devastating loss to the Mets. In the long term, it has become an oft-forgotten oddity, for Mr. Hebner was the only hitter Mr. Scarce faced in the only game Mr. Scarce ever pitched for the Mets. "Good grief," Mr. Scarce said when reached by phone recently. "I have a lot fonder memories of playing for the Phillies than I do with the Mets." Mr. Scarce, 61, who now lives near Atlanta and has owned a mortgage company since 1990, came up in professional baseball through the Phillies' farm system. The team made him an eighth-round draft pick in 1971. A 6-foot-3, 180-pound lefthander whose best pitch was his slider, Mr. Scarce was a bullpen mainstay for the team from 1972 to 1974. He led the Phillies in saves in 1973 with 12, posting a fine 2.42 ERA, and appeared in a career-high 58 games the following season. On Dec. 3, 1974, in a deal that turned out to be significant for both teams, the Phillies traded Mr. Scarce, outfielder Del Unser and catcher John Stearns to the Mets for outfielders Don Hahn and Dave Schneck and reliever Tug McGraw. Mr. Stearns went on to spend 10 years with the Mets, and over a decade with the Phillies, Mr. McGraw saved 94 games and helped the franchise win its first World Series, in 1980. Mr. Scarce, though, had begun having arm problems during the '74 season, and while pitching for Clearwater, Fla., in the Instructional League that off-season, he said, he tore his rotator cuff. "When I got traded, I was damaged goods," he said, "and I just never recovered from it." Nevertheless, he made the Mets' Opening Day roster, and the team's third game of the season was a Friday night in Pittsburgh. Mets starter Jerry Koosman carried a 3-0 lead into the bottom of the ninth inning, but the Pirates led off with three consecutive singles to spoil the shutout. After replacing Mr. Koosman, reliever Rick Baldwin allowed a bases-loaded single to tie the game and still had runners on first and second with one out. Mets manager Yogi Berra then called on Mr. Scarce to face Mr. Hebner, Pittsburgh's left-handed-hitting first baseman, just as an important, early-season win against arguably the National League's best team was slipping away. The Pirates won five division titles and a World Series from 1970 to 1975. "I didn't want to face them," Mr. Scarce said. " 'The Lumber Company,' are you kidding me? We had guys on the Phillies who, when we'd go into Pittsburgh, all of a sudden they'd have a sore arm. They didn't want to pitch against those guys." Mr. Hebner singled to left field, and Pittsburgh's Paul Popovich scored the winning run from second base. Four days later, on April 15, the Mets traded Mr. Scarce to the Reds for another left-handed reliever, Tom Hall. His arm injury kept Mr. Scarce in the minor leagues until 1978, when he pitched in 17 games for the Minnesota Twins. He retired shortly thereafter. "You want to go play, but the handwriting's on the wall," Mr. Scarce said. "Sure, guys you played with, you see them on TV, and it was hard for a while. You had to make the decision and move on. I knew I wasn't going to be a minor leaguer in my 30s, trying to get back to playing major-league baseball.'' For the record, since Mr. Scarce couldn't remember, the Mets' infield on the night he pitched for them had John Milner at first base, Felix Milan at second base, Bud Harrelson at shortstop and Joe Torre at third base. And because it's only fair, Ike Davis, Luis Castillo, Jose Reyes and David Wright were playing behind Mr. Acosta when he threw the spinning, 80-mph slider that Mr. Nix sent over the right-field wall. "One mistake," Mr. Acosta said, according to an interpreter, "and you saw the result." It could have been worse. Manny Acosta was still a Met on Tuesday.

Wally Matthews hits harder than this guy.

Junior sucks.

C'mon Junior!

Let us not forget 1948 Montreal Royals catcher Cliff Dapper, traded after the season to the unaffiliated Atlanta Crackers for a 30-year-old who couldn't play the game but could sure talk it: Ernie Harwell.

Before we decide he isn't Rod Barawesome, the man needs a suitable nickname. Ten of them are considered and discarded here.

Ronnie related last night that when he was traded to Oakland and made his first trip to Detroit, Ernie came up to him in the clubhouse, told him he'd heard and read so much about him and wanted to meet him. They spent the next half-hour chatting about everything but baseball -- a rarity in baseball, Darling said.

Must read: Joe Posnanski.

Ernie Harwell defines baseball on the occasion of his acceptance of the Ford C. Frick Award at Cooperstown in 1981. Baseball is the President tossing out the first ball of the season and a scrubby schoolboy playing catch with his dad on a Mississippi farm. A tall, thin old man waving a scorecard from the corner of his dugout. That's baseball. And so is the big, fat guy with a bulbous nose running home one of his 714 home runs. There's a man in Mobile who remembers that Honus Wagner hit a triple in Pittsburgh forty-six years ago. That's baseball. So is the scout reporting that a sixteen year old pitcher in Cheyenne is a coming Walter Johnson. Baseball is a spirited race of man against man, reflex against reflex. A game of inches. Every skill is measured. Every heroic, every failing is seen and cheered, or booed. And then becomes a statistic. In baseball democracy shines its clearest. The only race that matters is the race to the bag. The creed is the rulebook. Color merely something to distinguish one team's uniform from another. Baseball is a rookie. His experience no bigger than the lump in his throat as he begins fulfillment of his dream. It's a veteran too, a tired old man of thirty-five hoping that those aching muscles can pull him through another sweltering August and September. Nicknames are baseball, names like Zeke and Pie and Kiki and Home Run and Cracker and Dizzy and Dazzy. Baseball is the cool, clear eyes of Rogers Hornsby. The flashing spikes of Ty Cobb, an over aged pixie named Rabbit Maranville. Baseball just a came as simple as a ball and bat. Yet, as complex as the American spirit it symbolizes. A sport, a business and sometimes almost even a religion. Why, the fairy tale of Willie Mays making a brilliant World Series catch. And then dashing off to play stick ball in the street with his teenage pals. That's baseball. So is the husky voice of a doomed Lou Gehrig saying, "I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth.� Baseball is cigar smoke, hot roasted peanuts, The Sporting News, ladies day, "Down in Front", Take Me Out to the Ball Game, and the Star Spangled Banner. Baseball is a tongue tied kid from Georgia growing up to be an announcer and praising the Lord for showing him the way to Cooperstown. This is a game for America. Still a game for America, this baseball![

Maine 3.0 Barajas 3.0 Wright 2.0 Mejia 0.5 Reyes 0.5 Castillo 0.5 Francoeur 0.5

What an honor to be a fan of the same game for which this man spoke for so personally, passionately and eloquently, literally right to the end. His farewell address last September, replayed on MLB Network last night, was, in its matter of factness, moving beyond belief. Ernie Harwell may have belonged to Michigan, but let's not forget he was a part of our roots, too, a voice of the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants -- and his move from the Baltimore Orioles left open a seat for Bob Murphy two years before Murph became a Met. In the end, he was baseball's.

At the rate Neil Allen is going, we'll be lucky to get a coked out first baseman for him in a couple of years.

Edgy DC wrote: Is that Stearns at first? Yep. That innovative Joe Torre started his catcher at first and was rewarded with an RBI double in the first. Sadly, it didn't all work out in the end.

Here is a treat, posted by a FAFIF reader: WOR video from the heart of the 1980 season. Dig on Steve Albert, Doug Flynn, the Big Apple Band, John Pacella (cap on), Jim Kaat, Banners Like They Ought to Be and Walt "Clyde" Frazier for Manufacturers Hanover.

I'll bet Phillies spokeswoman Bonnie Clark never dreamed so many of her quotes would regard police actions when she took the job.

Perez 3.0 Nieve 1.5 Feliciano 1.0 Mejia 1.0 Francoeur 1.0 Reyes 1.0 Davis 0.5 Wright 0.5 Castillo 0.5

After the last two days, I make him my ace pitcher.