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Check out Joe Morgan: And this fantastic shot of him as a hotshot young Astro: I've been an SI obsessed freak for most of my life and that Astro cover was always one of my favorites. It's easy to miss second base - the lone visual reminder that the infielders are on a baseball diamond. Otherwise, Morgan and Jackson appear to be floating in space, like astronauts. That cover is from the period that I consider to be SI's golden age of covers, spanning the mid to late sixties, when SI combined their trend setting talents for sports photography with a newfound sense of creativity.

Zvon wrote: Jeff picks up McDowell who lands like 500 billion right hands in a microsecond. Awesome! And I was rooting for McDowell to punch that sense of entitlement right out of Jefferies hair, which was a strange feeling, rooting for a Phil. Phils manager Nick Leyva suggested that just about the entire Mets team was also hoping for Jefferies to get his ass kicked. Nick Leyva, Philadelphia's manager, defended McDowell by saying that Jefferies is not popular among his own teammates, then Leyva said, ''There were 30 guys on our side rooting for Roger and 20 guys on their side rooting for Roger.'' http://www.nytimes.com/1989/09/28/sports/mets-finishing-in-turmoil-on-field-and-off.html

Rickey Henderson A's, MFY, Blue Jays, Padres Just two:

Edgy MD wrote: Certainly true, and the prevalence of relievers who fire it up for one inning getting ridiculous K/9 numbers like 12.5. Starters too! Check out Ollie Perez! All latter-day guys, if not all latter-day saints. Dwight Gooden set the all-time K/9 inning record in his rookie season of 1984 (11.3945), breaking Sam McDowell's 1965 record. Today, Gooden's '84 mark isn't even in the top 10 and McDowell's '65 K/9 rate ranks 25th all-time.

The Roadmap to Contention Is Perilous, But Not Impossible 31 May 2013 by Howard Megdal It�s funny: how I evaluate a season has changed dramatically over the last five of them for the New York Mets. John Buck, Bobby ParnellEvery game, for 2005-2008, happened within the context of not just that result, but looking at the standings. This was true, certainly, late in the season. But even in April/May, how the Mets did mattered not just itself, but in relation to the other teams. I don�t know about you, but that isn�t how I�ve thought about it in a long time. Not even when the Mets got off to strong starts in 2011 and 2012. There were just too many holes. But after that sweep of the Yankees, with the next nine including six against the 13-41 Marlins and three against the struggling Nationals, I couldn�t help but wonder. Not because this looks like a contending team, or because I think the starting pitchers are capable of a 43/0 K/BB ratio every time through the rotation. But just because how it usually works is, those small victories are supposed to fuel optimism about the potential for larger ones. It�s the emotional rubric of how a fan relates to a baseball season, connecting April to potential October. So here goes. As it stands today, the Mets are 22-29. That puts them nine games behind the Atlanta Braves in the National League East. And the wild card, thanks to three very good teams in the N.L. Central, is harder to reach right now. At the moment, the 34-20 Pirates are 10.5 up on the Mets for the first wild card, the 33-21 Reds are 9.5 up on the Mets for the second wild card. And five other teams are ahead of the Mets as well: the Giants, the Rockies, the Nationals, the Phillies and the Padres. But let�s go a little crazy, shall we? The Marlins are historically bad. 13-41 puts them three full games behind the 1962 Mets at this point. Let�s say the Mets take all six, and two of three from the Nationals. That would give them a 30-30 record through 60 games. If the Reds tread water, a 4-5 mark over their next nine, that puts the Mets within 5.5 of the Reds by mid-June. A similar stretch by the Braves puts the Mets within five of first in their division, with the Nationals and Phillies both playing like teams that aren�t able to take advantage. I suspect the Nationals won�t continue to do so, but again, we�re only projecting what could be, not on talent level right now. Following that nine-game stretch, the Mets have six against the Cardinals and Cubs, followed by a rain-inspired five game series in Atlanta, June 17-20. The Mets probably need to win five of six against the Cardinals and Cubs; but if they do, they could well be within striking distance of the Braves for that series. And if you can�t imagine it, that�s fine. But if you want to rule it out, you must be one of those people who somehow knew the Mets were about to go sweep the Yankees this week. That�s where the math is. How the Mets get there is another story. If you harbor any fantasies about October, this is the context right now for how the Mets get there. http://mets.lohudblogs.com/2013/05/31/the-roadmap-to-contention-is-perilous-but-not-impossible/

Sportswriter Jack Mann might've been the first to write that the Mets will contend in '69 ... in 1966. June 27, 1966 A Team That Can Make A Man Cry Manager Wes Westrum knows that his Mets try�oh, how they try�but their frustrating blend of promise (right) and ineptitude, on the bases and off, sometimes moves him close to tears Jack Mann He was a big pitcher with a fat earned run average and a bad mouth and he had been at the bar too long, which in his case was about 20 minutes. He had just delivered his best pitch to a lady sitting between two large gentlemen who were going to turn out to be plainclothes cops, and they were taking the floor to question his choice of words. Suddenly the pitcher seemed to glide offstage, jerkily, like a marionette. Wesley Noreen Westrum, whose cerebral replay of the day's defeat had been interrupted by the noise, had taken him in a bear hug from behind, and the pitcher's feet didn't touch again until they hit the sidewalk outside. Baseball has seen many men strong enough to transport 220-pound pitchers. But through a revolving door? In the years when Wes Westrum was catching and then coaching with the Giants he often allowed his valor to be the better part of discretion. During the Giants' miracle drive of 1951 he hit home runs with mashed fingers and caught doubleheaders with yards of tape corseting his cracked ribs. But a .217 hitter does not become a 10-year man without being tough, and mere pain did not bring tears to Westrum's eyes. Managing the New York Mets does. You can't often sec them. You hear them in his voice as he talks of what might have been in the new kind of defeat being suffered by the new kind of Mets. They are "in" the game these days, the two-touchdown humiliations behind them. They are usually close enough to victory in the late innings so that the line drive that is caught, or the ground ball that isn't, matters painfully much. The players hear the quaver in Westrum's voice in clubhouse meetings as he persuades them that they are professionals and that they don't have to do those amateurish things that bring tears to a tough manager's larynx. They still find that hard to believe, but they try. They know the emotion Westrum's voice betrays is not weakness but the fervor of a competitor. "He's a tough man to manage against," says Phillies Manager Gene Mauch. "He won't give in." So the players can't. If West rum pretends to keep his head when all about him are running the bases as if they had lost theirs, it would be cruel to rain on his charade. Whether they actually buy Westrum's Cou?isms or not doesn't matter; the posture has given them a measure of what they most desperately want: dignity. "We're sick and tired of everything being so goddam funny," says Pitcher Jack Fisher, who lost 24 games last year. Fisher reads the standings and does not see that the Mets arc in ninth place. "We're only seven games under .500," he said at one point. "Sure, I think we can get there. Why can't we?" Well, because it strains the memory to recall a big-league pitching staff more woefully undermanned than the Mets' was as the doubleheader season began. Because the never-say-die rallies kept being killed by Kamikaze base running. Because after a couple of losing series the Mets were 12 games under .500. At a time when Major Houk's Charismatic Elixir was indicated, the medicine chest was bare. Well into June the front office woke up and smelled the smoke. They got Bob Shaw from the Giants and Bob Friend from the Yankees. They called up Pitcher Dick Rusteck, who wasn't good enough to make the staff in spring training. To make room they "outrighted"�i.e., gave away�left-hander Gordon Richardson to Jacksonville. But, had Richardson stayed, he would have started the next night, because Westrum's finger had been pointing his way when he got to "moe." Still, there is fire in the ashes. There is even pride. "I'm glad I'm a Met," says Ron Hunt, the all-ballplayer second baseman who is a throwback to pre-pension, gashouse days. Hunt will break up a second baseman to break up a double play ("anything is legitimate as long as you don't use your spikes") and expects the same in return. Hunt can swagger on the way back to the dugout after a strikeout, and there is arrogance in the way he takes a 3-0 pitch. "I'm going to play in a World Series with this club," he says. "Having everybody laugh at us was a pain in the butt, but that's over now." The Mets are too old to laugh, but it doesn't hurt enough�yet�to cry. It seemed in spring training that Westrum might be funnier by accident than Casey Stengel was on purpose. Wes promulgated a "positive thinking" program that promised to be a real knee-slapper to a troop of Hessians who had lost 452 games in four years. But Casey's Amazin's became Westrum's Batmen in Florida. "We lost momentum when it rained those first three days of the season in Cincinnati," Hunt says. "If we'd gone right from spring training into the season, it might have been different." Westrum did not lose momentum. The clich?s flew but the laughs subsided. There were smiles from the SRO gathering of newspapermen in his office when he referred to "guilty culprits" after a brush-back incident with the Phils. Wes explained his retaliation thus: "It's all for one and one for all." Well, 23 skiddoo, but there were no laughs from the people in the sweatshirts. Bob Buhl of Philadelphia had hit Dick Selma on his pitching arm, so when Buhl came to bat he had to be drilled on the tail-bone. Don't tread on us. It was, Buhl agreed, a highly professional way to look at the matter. The Spirit of Florida had caught on. Esprit de corps on a team like the Mets requires a tolerance that passeth all understanding, but whether because of Westrum or in spite of him they have it. There was the night Dick Stuart, who was still a Met first baseman then, mauled a grounder into submission and then conducted a 360? search for the ball while the decisive run scored. The next day, in an element-by-element appraisal of the team, Fisher made only this reference to Stuart: "For the first time we have a legitimate home-run hitter." One night Center Fielder Cleon Jones ran into an out in a pointless dash to third base. The next night, with two out in the ninth, Johnny Lewis wheeled around third in a mad dash for one run when two were needed; Third Base Coach Whitey Herzog had to use every deterrent short of tackling him. Billy Murphy, who ought to be learning to play at Jacksonville, killed two rallies as a pinch runner. Ron Swoboda, benched for not running fast enough, rumbled into third and found Stuart waiting for him. Ed Kranepool, carrying a tying run, took a pointless lead off third instead of tagging up on a fly to an out-fielder who couldn't throw. Westrum threw his underwear against the wall and threatened fines, but Hunt maintained his deadpan aplomb and thought positive. "We have good speed in the outfield," he said. Hunt overlooked the catchers, who were hitting .231 after 50 games, and pointed out that "we have good defense behind the plate." The positive was still being accentuated, but the negative couldn't be eliminated. The spirit endured, but the flesh was feeble. All for one, yeah, but 0 for 4. The Mets had scored one run in 25 innings, with no more than one hit in any inning. "We're due to break out," Westrum said. "In a rash." That was the best he could do. No epigrammatist he, even when the Batmen were scoring runs. Westrum knows baseball thoroughly and discusses its nuances articulately, but he would not dictate Stengelian angles for the afternoon papers even if he knew how, which he doesn't. Inadvertently he tips the fact that some players' deficiencies�Swoboda's, for one�are more evident to him than others'. But he does not coin one-liners at their expense. That would be all for one, but it wouldn't be one for all. Part of the tremolo in Westrum's voice after losing a close one is restraint, the sublimation of the impulse to tell a questioner to get lost. "That's true," Westrum concedes, "but I think you guys feel the same way asking the questions. You want to make sure you're not misunderstood." The guys do. Cross-examining a nice guy who can't finish better than ninth can be almost as much fun as interviewing the widow after the train wreck. In a world Wes Westrum wouldn't have made, public relations is 25% of any manager's job, and he accepts that. He succeeded Casey Stengel, which is like following Sammy Davis Jr. in a vaudeville show, but he is trying. The trouble is that he has little going for him but sincerity, which in baseball is not necessarily regarded as an asset. Westrum's deep feeling about his job is not based on self-pity. He set the terms of his ordeal himself. The logical test of a manager of a team with the nebulous capabilities of the Mets would be a three-year plan, but Westrum has no such latitude. "Nobody gave me any special instructions," he said, "but I know what I have to do. I have to develop young players and I have to win games. I have set a goal of 70 victories, and I honestly believe we can do that. If we don't win 70 games I won't feel that I have succeeded." So Westrum has two mutually exclusive objectives and one whole year in which to accomplish them�-minus, of course, the month they left him sitting home by the telephone, wondering whether he'd be the manager or not. Visiting his mother in Minnesota and fishing killed 10 days, but he was waiting for the shoe to drop. He was not hired until Nov. 18. In the interim a man might have phoned the general manager, if Mets President George Weiss called himself the general manager or if Weiss deigned to let his assistant, Bing Devine, act as one, to suggest the name of a player or two he might like to have. But it would be presumptuous to call when you don't know if you work there anymore. So the manager goes with the dramatis personae he was given. During the winter the management drafted Murphy and Pitcher Bill Hepler, 20, both of whom must be kept on the roster but neither of whom is ready to play. (Though, of course, Hepler was called on six times in two weeks when it was discovered that the men could not do the boys' job.) They traded their best pitcher for Ken Boyer and they picked up Stuart from the Phillies. The latter two "name" acquisitions, reminiscent of the Mets' Ashburn-Bell-Thomas lineup in 1962, indicated that the front office is still playing to the box office more than six million customers later. Only the manager must play the present against the future. The overlap was epitomized by a pop foul which had nothing to do with a 3-1 defeat by the Pirates. Third Baseman Boyer, veteran of 1,700 big-league games, and Catcher John Stephenson, veteran of little more than 100, met under the ball as it descended near the Pirates' dugout. Patently the third baseman, with the more dexterous finger glove, should have made the play. "Usually," Boyer said, "but not necessarily. The pitcher should call the play." "I called Boyer," Pitcher Dennis Ribant said, "and when I yell they know I'm out there." "I heard him," Boyer said. "I didn't hear anything," Stephenson said, "so at the last minute I yelled, 'I got it.' " Nobody got it. Nobody did anything terribly wrong, either, except exhibit the Mets' cross-purposes. A team plays a 25-year-old Johnny Stephenson in the hope of developing a young player. It plays a 35-year-old Ken Boyer in the hope of winning, or at least not looking too bad. When it combines them and gets nowhere the compromise is called "balance." A team focusing on the future might, for example, play Ron Swoboda, who will not be 22 until June 30. He is the symbolic Met in that he is the most potent of their potentials. The only player the Metropolitan Baseball Club, Inc. can be absolutely sure it would like to have on its payroll in 1969�which should be first-division time�is Ron Hunt. If Hunt is not joined in that distant World Series by Swoboda and Cleon Jones and some of the Gardner-Ribant-Selma-Rusteck-Hepler-McGraw kiddie corps, he's never going to get there. The future is in them, or there is no foreseeable future. "He's so strong," is about all that is heard about Swoboda, because of his impressive musculature and because he has occasionally hit balls "over everything." Actually, he probably has the reflexes and bat control to be a good hitter, but he isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything. "As soon as I get started," he said, "I have to stop." It was natural that Westrum's dual dedication and Swoboda's singular determination would conflict, and they have�quietly, but continually. "If a man is hitting," Westrum says, "I'll play him. When he stops I give him a rest. Sure, there are complaints: I wouldn't have a man who didn't want to play. But you just have to ignore the complaints." In one doubleheader, against right-handed pitching, Swoboda went 4 for 7. The next day he was 0 for 3, and he got a three-day sabbatical. "You got to be fantastic, I guess," Swoboda said. "I wasn't fantastic. I was just hitting." "He gets down on himself when he stops hitting," Westrum said. "Then he goes real bad." "There is a guy in this organization," Swoboda said, "who says that when I get down on myself I crawl in a little hole somewhere and curl up and die. They ought to know there's a difference between looking bad and going bad. "Last year I didn't even belong here," Swoboda said. Off a .276 year at Williamsport, he played 135 games with the Mets and hit some balls over everything. But he also batted .228, and his fielding was one of the funny things about the Mets. "But I was here, and I went through all that. The newspapers had a field day with me. Now I think I do belong here. I still make mistakes in the field, but I'm better. Whitey Herzog talked to me the first day of spring training. 'You're not a good fielder," he said, and he showed me a new way to approach a ground ball. I'm not good, but I'm better." "Guys have to sacrifice," Westrum said. "They have to play when they're hurt, for the good of the team, the way Boyer and Hunt did on the last trip. And sometimes they have to sit down for the good of the team. It's all for one and one for all." One night Johnny Lewis was called back to the dugout and Stuart sent up to hit for him. Lewis flung his bat in ostentatious chagrin. "That's all right," Westrum said. "I want them to want to play. Above all, I want them to be mad when they lose." So it may be a mad, mad, mad, mad team by the ides of August, which may make a weird, weird, weird, weird scene in Shea Stadium. The flaky legions of New Breed fans have been showing signs of becoming tranquilized. if not downright dignified. One memorable night, early in June, there was not a single banner in evidence. Among 11,785 patrons, not a used bed sheet screamed for the return of Elio Chacon. It was eerie. Certainly, with the kids out of school, there will be more banners. The Rod Kanehl Fan Club will be heard from. They can't all turn their backs on Marvelous Marv so soon. But that night they acted almost like people who had come to see a baseball game. They seemed, in a word, to be taking the Mets seriously. That's fine with the Mets, who are taking themselves seriously. Like Pagliacci, they are tired of laughing while being pushed around. La commedia ? finita. The current attraction at Shea Stadium is Prometheus Bound, a tragedy in one act starring Wes Westrum. Prometheus could have carried a whole pitching staff through a revolving door, but the management fixed it so that he couldn't. The tears in the larnyx will be very good for the curtain line: "How I am wronged, ye see." http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1078702/1/index.htm Even cover boy Billy Casper resembles Gil Hodges.

And now ... the faint praise train .... May 31, 2013, 11:22 am Comment Did the Mets Sweep, or Were the Yankees Swept? By JAY SCHREIBER The Mets� four-game sweep of the Yankees was both surprising and unprecedented, and it raised interesting questions: Was this more a result of a resurgence by the Mets, even if their lineup continues to consist of two real hitters � Daniel Murphy and David Wright � and a bunch of guys who happen to be wearing a Mets uniform? Or, was this more a case of the Yankees finally returning to reality, hamstrung by a makeshift lineup hardly more impressive than what the Mets put on the field on a daily basis? So was this sweep the Mets� doing? Or were they simply lucky enough to be playing the Yankees at the moment that a market correction descended on the Bronx? http://bats.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/05/31/did-the-mets-sweep-or-were-the-yankees-swept/ I tells ya' ... no respect ... no respect at all

Mets 3, Yankees 1 Where No Mets Have Gone Before Yankees third baseman David Adams watching a grounder down the line by the Mets� John Buck. David Wright was safe at third as the ball was ruled fair. By DAVID WALDSTEIN Published: May 30, 2013 Bobby Valentine�s 1997 Mets were a plucky group of overachievers who won their first Subway Series game against the Yankees, the defending World Series champions, but they did not sweep the series. The 1998 and �99 Mets were brash contenders, but they could not do it, either. Nor could the 2000 Mets, who won the National League pennant, or the 2006 team that went deep into the playoffs. In 16 previous years of interleague play, no Mets team had ever earned a season-series sweep against the Yankees. On Thursday night, though, one of the most ill-equipped teams of all finally secured one. The 2013 Mets, populated with castoffs and anonymous players who might just as easily fill out a minor league roster,* *[Note to Swannie: It's not my fault. I just call 'em like I see 'em] completed a four-game sweep with a 3-1 victory behind a career performance by Dillon Gee at a steamy Yankee Stadium. Granted, the Mets won only four games � the Subway Series was a six-game affair for all but the first two years � and these Yankees are not the star-charged powerhouse of previous seasons. But the Mets, who had lost 12 of their previous 16 games entering the series and appeared to be one of the worst teams in baseball, somehow managed to make history. �It�s hard when you lose to your crosstown rivals,� Manager Joe Girardi said. �You don�t want to be part of a team that gets swept by your crosstown rivals. Over time, it�s going to happen. But you don�t want to be the team that it happens to.� The only other Subway Series sweep was in 2003, when the Yankees won all six games on their way to winning the American League pennant. The current Yankees, however, are suddenly sputtering in a manner befitting their lineup, which is dotted with many substitutes and minor leaguers, too. The loss extended their losing streak to a season-high five games, and they have dropped seven of their last nine, the last four to a team that entered the series with a .383 winning percentage. Over the last four games, though, the Mets were feisty, aggressive and strangely competent while the Yankees looked simply inferior. In three of the games in the series, the Yankees managed only one run, and in the final three games, they did not draw a walk. Robinson Cano hit a home run in the third inning of the finale, but Gee set down 15 straight after that, nine by strikeout, including the final four he faced. The Yankees fared no better against Scott Rice and Bobby Parnell, failing to reach base in their final 20 plate appearances. They struck out a season-high 14 times, and Gee, who recorded a career-high 12 strikeouts, may have saved his spot in the Mets� rotation. �It�s hard to put into words,� he said. �I needed that on so many levels, it�s crazy. Obviously, it�s fun to go out there and pitch like that.� The Mets� Marlon Byrd, a journeyman who has played on six teams in 12 years, hit a two-run homer in the second inning off Vidal Nuno, who allowed fewer hits (three) than Gee (four). Gee was dominating, to be sure. But if the Mets are marked by relative anonymity, so are these Yankees. Their defensive alignment featured only two players � Cano and Brett Gardner � who were members of the 25-man roster in the middle of spring training, and the designated hitter, Travis Hafner, was signed Feb. 1. The Yankees do have star players in waiting. But with Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Mark Teixeira, Curtis Granderson and Kevin Youkilis all out with injuries, it was left to the likes of Reid Brignac, Brennan Boesch, Lyle Overbay, Vernon Wells and Nuno to represent the Yankees. With the series over, the teams part ways to resume their own division rivalries. The Mets headed south to play the Miami Marlins, one of the few teams in the National League with a record worse than their own, and they were infused with a little confidence after carving out a niche in Subway Series history. �Does it mean more it�s against the Yankees?� Mets Manager Terry Collins said. �Had we been playing better, yeah, it would have been huge. But right now we�ve just got to win some games, and it didn�t matter who it was.� The Yankees, meanwhile, will remain in the Bronx to host the Boston Red Sox, who are two games ahead of them in first place in the A.L. East. C. C. Sabathia, who did not win a game in May, will face Jon Lester on Friday in a rematch of their opening day encounter. Teixeira and Youkilis are expected back, too, which will make the lineup a little more recognizable. �I still feel like we�re in a good place,� Gardner said. �We have to forget about what happened against the Mets and try to win a ballgame tomorrow.�

Swan Swan H wrote: I'd have thought the Astros the one lock out of the four for Ryan, and the Mets the least likely. Ryan was a retired legend when he made the cover as a Met. That was a nostaslgia "Where are they now?" cover, issued in 2009.

Edgy MD wrote: Nolan Ryan --- Mets, Angels, Astros, Rangers. Close, but no Astros cover for Nolan.

Deion Sanders - Cowboys, Falcons, 49ers, Reds? Winner! Substitute Falcons for 49ers:

And three for Clemens (no Blue Jay cover):

Three, but not four, for Gaylord (Giants, Padres and Mariners):

Swan Swan H wrote: I'm thinking Bo Jackson, probably Auburn, the Royals, White Sox and Raiders. No White Sox cover. But a Memphis Chicks cover. So there's your four. I overlooked Bo. So there's still at least one more out there.

John Cougar Lunchbucket wrote: Carlos BelTRAN! Just one. But with the right team.

One more baseball player covered on four different teams by SI.

No baseball here, but five teams for Shaq:

See what happens when you focus on the negative? You see the weeds and not the flowers. That was eight years before the Dream Team. This is the Dream Team and, depending on how you interpret "team", perhaps Jordan's sixth team on the cover:

Swan Swan H wrote: I think you're conflating placating and patronizing, but no matter. I'll take your six and add Murphy, and bump Duda up a bit if they finally give him the big mitt and let him play first base. I'm not down on Niese. Jeez. I left out Murph. I didn't mean to. I love the Murph. That makes seven.

I'm declaring Reggie the winning answer of this quiz, but technically, Jordan made the SI cover with five different teams:

More Reggie:

This one was easy. We'll also accept another answer based on the way the question was worded.

Which baseball player made the cover of Sports Illustrated with the most number of teams? Name the player and the teams.

Swan Swan H wrote: Swan Swan H wrote: These guys suck. They all suck. Fuck the Wilpons, Alderson, Collins, all the coaches who I don't feel like naming individually, and every one of the players. Every one. I am now a disciple of the Church of Batmags. Praise no one. Now you've gone too far. There's probably six, maybe even seven or eight players on this year's squad that are at least OK. Name them. I can't. I just made up that number to placate you. Let's see. Turner's OK as a utility guy. Baxter's OK as a 4th outfielder. Harvey's harvelous. Wright is right. What do I got? Four? Parnell makes five. I like Duda, bad glove and all. Buck's got 11 homers. That's pretty good for a catcher, even though his peripherals are Kingmanesque. Buck's a catcher, though. So that's six. Not quite Bench, Rose, Morgan, Foster, Griffey and Seaver. Or even Gilkey, Hundley, Olerud, Reed, Clark and anybody else. But that's six. Who's side are you on?