G-Fafif

Ramon Castro says he's got his orders, you ain't gettin' anywhere near practice. And if you try any funny business, Charlie O'Brien is stationed on the roof with a bow and arrow. Meanwhile, on the other side of Glendale, Ariz., Tom Coughlin is at a loss to motivate the Giants. What Met(s) can possibly deliver an inspirational talk?

seawolf17 wrote: Present? Jose "GQ" Reyes. Past? Rey Ordonez. Them's sexy Latino dudes. You're producing a drag show in the Village, and two of your top queens just called in sick. Who do you call to "suit up" and fill the roles? Lastings Milledge enjoyed his rookie hazing so much he kept the dress. I still want to know what Met dermatologist is going to look at this thing on my leg.

Gwreck wrote: ="AG/DC"]Need a party planned for a five-year-old's birthday that --- if all goes accordingly --- is going to be the talk of the Kindergarter dropoff line for the next six months. Which Met will you call? I'd think that Melvin Mora is probably pretty good at dealing with large groups of kids. You've got a trip to Vegas planned with three of your best buddies. First-class the whole way -- nice rooms at the Bellagio, first-class plane tickets, dinner reservations, etc. One of them backs out. Who you gonna call to take his place so that you still have as good a time? My buddy Izzy just got like the whole summer off and he's a madman. Plays softball with Hooters girls and everything. He'd be awesome on this trip. But I should really get this thing on my leg looked at when I get back. It's not getting any better. Anybody know a good dermatologist?

Juan was among the outfield also-rans.

An All-Star team of Mets on the verge...or players on the verge of becoming Mets but never managed to make it all the way. I call them the Never Mets: http://faithandfear.blogharbor.com/blog/_archives/2008/1/24/3483697.html Got any additions or omissions?

Benjamin Grimm wrote: And then the children-of-incest can do the same for John Rocker. This does not deserve to go unremarked upon. LOL!

Awesome set!

="John Cougar Lunchbucket"]Apparently came to blows with Ron Swoboda over Swoboda's wearing "love beads" on the team plane. From an interview with Stanley Cohen in A Magic Summer: ]I remember only one incident of friction, and I was involved in it. Some of the younger guys used to wear those love beads around their necks, and some of us older guys didn't take to that too much. We were on a flight from L.A. to Houston, and I kind of got on Swoboda's case. He was wearing love beads, and I snatched them off his neck and threw them in the trash can. Then I went back to my seat and strapped myself in. He came up to me and we exchanged some words. I started to take a swing at him, but I forgot I had my seatbelt on, and that was the end of it. Rocky's a good guy, though. He thought I was a southern redneck, and I thought he...I thought he was just a Rocky. "Cardwell," added the author, "laughs at the recollection."

]You could have my copy providing my willingness to loan it. Don't make the same mistake I did.

In my first batch of baseball cards, from 1967, he was a Tiger. I was shocked to learn that somebody seemingly so modern (that is, he existed while I was alive) played so long ago (a whole dozen years) in some place that hadn't had baseball forever. Johnny was good about showing up for Dodger commemorations in Brooklyn, such as on October 4, 2005 when some diehards gathered where Ebbets used to stand. My ears cramped this morning when the Channel 11 sports guy pronounced him Pod-REZ. You win a World Series in a town, you deserve to have your name come out correctly in that town forever. ]I knew him as Sports Illustrated first-ever "Sportsman of the Year" He wasn't supposed to receive that honor. I read in "The Franchise" by Michael MacCambridge that there was a whole internal political rigamarol at SI, then in its second year, regarding another choice, someone from a more esoteric sport. That first choice fell through and Podres was a last-minute replacement and considered kind of desperate despite his WS achievement. I'd get the story straight, but I loaned that book, a great history of SI, to a co-worker years ago and never got it back (which is why I am hesitant to lend books out anymore).

They came so close, too. Had they sold the rights to Progresso, the place could have been called the soup bowl, they could have promoted Minestrone Mondays and there's no doubt what everybody would be purchasing at the concessions on cold April nights.

The Spinners...and it's most appropriate to note this with Post No. 1240, since it was on WGBB 1240-AM Freeport where I was introduced to them and have since remained immersed in a One of a Kind (Love Affair) with their mighty catalogue.

Mike's a swell guy and hosts a terrific show, but I should warn all that he interviewed my blog partner and me on the afternoon of September 13, when the Mets were 7 up with 17 to go. I go foggy trying to remember what happened next.

I prefer when MFY demi-icons hurt* themselves, not others. *Figuratively speaking, as relates to image. No MFYs were harmed in the construction of this sentiment.

Edgy needs to go on tour.

Forgot to hire a photographer for the event, but the Long Island meetup was quite the cult success. Couldn't be beat for the company, the venue, the personal convenience (five minutes from home) and steady stream of Met minutiae that ate up two hours (between bites out of the Pantry Diner's sturdy menu) before we knew it. Good to meet the DCs in the flesh. Always good to find a reason to wear a baseball cap in December.

I'll be wearing the same haunted, far-off look I've been trudging around since September 30.

To paraphrase Linda Richman, we'll have coffee*, we'll talk, no big whoop. *I don't actually drink coffee.

Seven earned runs in a third of an inning.

Why mess with perfection?

If you're in the neighborhood...

Haven't been there in more than a year. Found it just fine in 2006. Then again, a lot of things I like were way better in 2006 than in 2007. Dined at the Pantry a few weeks ago. It was good rockin' in Rockville Centre that night. The worst diner news in the immediate RVC-Oceanside vicinity is the recent death of the East Bay Diner on Long Beach Rd. to make way for yet another CVS. That diner was home base for many years in the sense that if someone said "let's go to the diner," it usually implied that one.

I'm more of a Golden Reef man myself, but the Pantry's pretty hallowed.