When Gooden was larger than life

Yesterday's news about Dwight Gooden has brought out a lot of old photographs of Doctor K, but this one is the one I like the best. Two young stars, their potential seemingly limitless -- 1985 All-Star! -- clowning around after a game in some wood-paneled office at Shea Stadium that still had NFL helmets on display years after the Jets had moved to New Jersey.

That shirt on Doc brings back a memory for me. His endorsement with Nike was the first time I ever associated an athlete with a company, but it wasn't from this photo. It was from one like this one to the right, only hundreds of times bigger and hanging off the side of a building in Midtown Manhattan. New Jersey Mets fans may remember it well: A giant image of Gooden, arm cocked, foot driving, the Nike logo and swoosh in a corner, affixed to the western side of a building and visible to pretty much anyone gazing out the windows as they emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel. People winding up the ramp into the Port Authority Bus Terminal parking deck got a closer look, but that wasn't necessary to notice the thing. It was huge. Billboards are made to be larger than life, but putting Gooden on that one made him into the city's Paul Bunyan. A true giant.

Unfortunately, the only images I have of it are in my head. I never really had a chance to get a picture of it, because my first camera -- the cheap and perfect-for-kids Kodak Disc (I was probably influenced by the commercial) -- wouldn't have been able to handle shooting from behind the window of a moving car, and it wasn't until the past four years that I found myself any further west in Manhattan than that exit to the tunnel, and with all the changes in New York, that building itself may not even be standing, let alone any monster billboards of the city's biggest sports star that may be occupying the space. Gooden, it seems, came down shortly after his drug suspension in 1994, though if I took note of its disappearance at the time, I didn't keep the memory for long.

A photo of that billboard -- not a reproduction of the particular image, but an actual photo of that billboard on that building -- may be the holy grail from my first years as a Mets fan. I recently came across one discovery when I uncovered the two ticket stubs to my first Mets games. I always knew that my family went to two one summer, one of which was on a brutally hot and muggy New York night, and the opponents were the Reds (I remember Pete Rose) and the Cubs (the blue jerseys). However, I was under the impression that both games were in 1985. Upon finding the stubs, I learned that they were from that dominating year, 1986.

That was truly a year in which everything came together, stars and planets included. The talent was undeniable and it should've carried over into another division title in 1987, if not another World Series win before the '80s were out. It just wasn't in the cards.

Revisionist history: Darryl and Dawson on the Mets

MLB.com's Bryan Hoch was at the Baseball Assistance Team's annual dinner last night and filed a story comprised of several conversations with some of the Hall of Famers and other baseball illuminati. This one particular anecdote from former Mets manager Davey Johnson, speaking about Andre Dawson, really stood out:

"I pleaded with [GM] Frank Cashen to sign him," Johnson said. "I said, 'It's not going to be expensive. I think he'll play for $500,000 and we can really use him.' It wasn't in our policy. We never signed a free agent, and Frank Cashen just wouldn't do it, as long as I was there, anyway. I really tried to get him. I really thought he was a heck of a player and I could find playing time for him."

In 1987, coming off of a World Series victory, the manager of the Mets wanted to sign Andre Dawson. And the team wouldn't do it. Amazing.

As Hoch writes in introducing that quotation, "suppose the Mets had acquired Dawson for the 1987 season instead of Kevin McReynolds? It could have happened, and while it might not have staved off a rash of pitching injuries in '87, maybe those '88 Mets could have overtaken the Dodgers and made it two World Series appearances in three years." Wow -- an outfield of Dawson, Lenny Dykstra/Mookie Wilson and Darryl Strawberry. And supposing what Hoch suggests would mean that the trade for McReynolds didn't happen, and Kevin Mitchell would've remained a Met. Obviously, he wouldn't have been a starter in the outfield with those four, but maybe he would've been a supersub, much like he was in '86, or maybe he would've been dealt in a deal for a pitcher who would've strengthened that staff in '87 and '88.

And since we're supposing, let's suppose what Mets Walk-offs supposed yesterday: that Strawberry never signed with the Dodgers. Not only might the Mets have had a second World Series appearance (and title?) in 1988, but maybe they would've done it with two Hall of Fame outfielders manning the corners that year. Maybe Dawson still would've won the MVP in '87 and maybe Strawberry follows it up with the one he just missed in '88. And maybe a Mets championship in '88, led by the National League's two most recent MVPs, convinces the Mets to hold onto Strawberry when he becomes a free agent in 1990. So maybe it's not that that big a stretch. You know, once we project Dawson as a Met in '87.

That's enough speculation for one day, but since it's getting harder and harder to speculate who the Mets might actually still sign this offseason, it's a refreshing break from reality.

Dance-Off '86

Not only did the Mets win 35 more games than the Dodgers in 1986, but they produced an exponentially better music video that year.

Round and round he goes, where Beltran lands nobody knows

Nearly five years ago, Dennis Quaid and Jesus — OK, fine, James Caviezel — starred in a baseball movie that wasn't a baseball movie. Frequency was a father/son tale using the Mets' 1969 world championship as a backdrop. Now, another screenwriter has found inspiration in the other Mets championship, the one they won in 1986.

Game 6, which will premiere later this month at the Sundance Film Festival, appears to be another baseball-as-backdrop movie, despite what the title will have you believe. It also may turn out to be more of a Red Sox movie than a Mets movie, according to that aforelinked description on the Sundance site. (And at least this one won't have the in-production backlash that the sight of Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore filming on the field during Boston's celebration in St. Louis has sparked. About that: depending on how it's edited, how can that be believable? Fans don't rush the field anymore these days — the last I can remember was when the Mets clinched the division in '86 — and when they do, a lot more than two make it to the infield.) But with Michael Keaton, Robert Downey Jr., Bebe Neuwirth and Catherine O'Hara, it's got to be picked up and distributed by somebody.

* * *

My gut feeling on Carlos Beltran right now is that he'll go back to Houston. I even signed a petition shortly after the Astros' season ended to plead that he remain in Texas ... before the Mets became a player, of course. I just wanted him to stay far, far away from the Bronx. Obviously, we'll know if he's going back there within he next 31 hours, since he has to sign with the Astros by midnight tomorrow.

But I'm still wary of the Yankees. I won't buy that they're out of it until 1.) Scott Boras names the teams who have made offers, and the Yanks aren't one of them, or 2.) Beltran shows up at a press conference and dons a hat that's not a Yankee hat or a jersey that's not a Yankee jersey.

Murray Chass of The New York Times speculated today that George Steinbrenner might have simply told his staff to say the Yankees had no interest, intending to swoop in at the 11th hour. It was Chass, I believe, who first started the talk last weekend that the Yankees had no interest, and Buster Olney of ESPN.com (and/or The Magazine) has also said he thinks they are going to take a pass. But my thinking is that if they really had made the decision to go after Beltran but try to do it quietly, it would get out somehow, despite Steinbrenner's wishes. There is only a certain number of people who can keep a secret about something before the media gets a hold of it.

There's also been some discussion lately that Beltran's not really worth what Boras is demanding. But a look at the list of similar players (scroll down below the boxes for "Appearances on Leaderboards and Awards") shows one Hall of Famer in Dave Winfield, another power/speed outfielder in Bobby Bonds, and a borderline Hall candidate in Andre Dawson. Most telling, as Tim Kurjian points out in that first link, is that his walks have increased in the last four years while his strikeouts have dipped to the point where he's nearly at a 1:1 ratio. He most likely won't hit 40 home runs as a Met, but he'll get on base and run, and he'll cut off so many doubles in the gap at Shea.

The Mets would probably have to overpay to get him, but that's what they need to do. I'd be happy with it, but I just don't know if it's going to get to that. Houston's my gut feeling, but if we haven't heard of it by Sunday morning, there very well could be a new No. 15 in Queens.

Unless, you know, the Yanks are playing possum.

* * *

Wade Boggs will go into the Hall wearing a Red Sox cap. It wasn't really too hard to predict. It's the right move by the Hall.

Doug Mientkiewicz, however, doesn't understand the concept. He's not giving the Red Sox the ball he caught from Keith Foulke for the final out of the World Series. (Of course, if Foulke were smart enough on his feet, he would've run the ball to first base himself for the final out, keeping it in his glove the whole time.) It would be one thing if Mientkiewicz came up with the Red Sox or maybe even played with them the whole season. I'm more inclined to think that Nomar Garciaparra has more of a claim to the ball than Mientkiewicz, who was only in the game as a defensive replacement. (Apparently Terry Francona learned from John McNamara what can happen when you leave a first baseman in for the final out for sentimental reasons.)

* * *

Since I love to make predictions, here are my quick picks for the NFL's wild-card weekend:

I would like to see the Jets win, but I think with the way they struggled at the end of the season, with Chad Pennington's recovering shoulder and with San Diego at home, it won't happen. Might come close, they might cover, but I think it's the Chargers, 28-24.

In Seattle, I don't like either team. I could go with St. Louis, because they've had the Seahawks' number; or I could go with the home team, because can one 8-8 team beat another three times in one season? If Shaun Alexander can control the clock, Seattle probably wins. But I like St. Louis' weapons and scoring potential as a whole, so I say the Rams, 31-26.

On the semi-frozen tundra of Lambeau Field (gameday high expected to be 35 degrees), I don't have the same misgivings about the Packers-Vikings divisional matchup threepeat. Minnesota has won something like two of its last 12 games outdoors. Daunte Culpepper may do The Roll after a touchdown to Randy Moss, but it's Brett Favre and the Packers who roll on, 38-30.

I'm a fan of the scoring this opening weekend, aren't I? I'm probably not the only one. Take away everything else in the Indianapolis-Denver matchup on Sunday except for three things: Peyton Manning, Jake Plummer and the RCA Dome. Is there any way you can envision Plummer beating Manning inside? Neither can I: Colts, 42-21.

World Series Game 2: Learning something about myself

Red Sox 6, Cardinals 2

How can Boston not win the Series? This Curt Schilling story is a tale of athletic heroism straight out of Hollywood. It's like Roy Hobbs rounding the bases as his jersey gets bloodier with every step, only without the sexy circumstances causing the injury. These postseason starts on his bum ankle clearly make the start of the 2005 season a target date for Schilling's return from surgery, but will he be able to make it? Major surgery on one of the most important parts of a right-handed pitcher's body seems like it would need more than five months (the time from November 1, the first day after a potential Game 7, to April 1, just days before Opening Day) to make a full recovery including rehab and rebuilding strength and stamina to be able to take the ball to start a game. It means I'll have some big decisions to make when deciding my fantasy baseball keepers, is all. But we're not there yet.

Last night, Schilling became Greg Maddux. His stuff wasn't vintage Schilling, it wasn't as powerful as it usually is. He won, as Peter Gammons pointed out, by controling his location and never throwing the same pitch in the same situations to the Cardinals hitters. In two games, the Red Sox have committed eight errors and left 21 men on base. Those numbers would usually mean an 0-2 deficit, not a 2-0 lead. But Boston's ahead because, in Game 1, they overcame those errors at the plate, scoring 11 runs. In Game 2, they won because they bore down and got the outs despite the miscues. Look at Bill Mueller -- two outs, he commits an error, then Mark Bellhorn does on the next play, but then the next batter hits a shot to third that Mueller fields cleanly and takes to the bag for the final forceout. Perseverance. Determination. Execution. That's what's carrying these Red Sox.

Today is the 18th anniversary of Mookie Wilson's ground ball through the legs of Bill Buckner. I was 10 at the time, and in bed when I heard my father's screams from downstairs. I missed the actual play, but I was out of bed and down the stairs in time to see the countless replays. What a lot of people forget -- or never knew in the first place -- is that the play, while it lost the game for the Red Sox, didn't blow a lead. That had already happened; the game was tied when Mookie came to bat. Second, Bob Stanley wasn't covering first base and part of the reason Buckner missed the ball is because he was already moving toward first, hoping to beat the fleet Mookie to the bag -- which was also unlikely. And, of course, just like the Cubs against the Marlins last year, Boston still had Game 7 it could have won. Just as Steve Bartman didn't lose the NLCS for Chicago last year, Buckner didn't lose the World Series for the Red Sox in 1986. Buckner may have cost them Game 6 (and Bartman, at most, cost the Cubs one lone, single out in an inning), but he didn't cost them three other games. In fact, he had two hits in Game 7.

Those were the early days of my interest in baseball and the Mets. They're still the only team I root for, from Opening Day through their final game, with an excitement and passion that rivals my feelings for Notre Dame. For me, nothing tops my allegiance to the Irish, because I spent four years there living the experience. But only the Mets come close. I follow the Devils but take only a passing interest during the season; the playoffs, as everyone knows, are when the NHL gets exciting. I have no NFL ties nearly as strong and I loathe the NBA. I rooted for the Nets out of New Jersey pride more than anything. Now that Bruce Rattner has bought the team and is scuttling it to make some money before he moves them to Brooklyn and loses a ton, I hope it all blows up in his face. I haven't been to a game or supported the NBA in any way in nine or 10 years, and I don't intend to start anytime soon.

But I've discovered something this postseason: I have an American League team. I have friends who purport to back a second team in addition to their primary squad, usually choosing one from the opposite league to call his NL or AL team, depending on which applies. While I was hoping any of the three AL playoff participants not from New York this season would reach the World Series, and I was prepared to root for any of them in that quest, but it has occurred to me, particularly as I've watched these two games against the Cardinals, that I am a Red Sox fan. This isn't simply a World Series choice; it's bigger. While I'll root for the Mets in any potential Boston-Queens matchups, in all other instances, I'm an immigrant to Red Sox Nation.

If the Red Sox come through with these last two victories, I won't celebrate like a long-suffering fan. I haven't lived through the losses the way New Englanders have. But I'll appreciate the championship as a fan of baseball and of history (and baseball history) and of a different game in 1918 -- before the Black Sox, before the Babe became a slugger and rewrote the record book and the way the game is perceived and played. And, most of all, I'll be happy for all those Red Sox fans.