Mets -- and baseball -- history on iTunes

Happened to be browsing through the games available for purchase at Baseball's Best on iTunes and noticed these Mets-related gems:

Game 5 of the 1969 World Series

Game 3 of the 1986 NLCS

Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS

Game 6 of the 1986 World Series

Game 7 of the 1986 World Series

Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS (Ventura's "grand slam single")

Plus, these heartbreaking or bittersweet games:

Sept. 16, 1978, Tom Seaver's no-hitter

Game 4 of the 1988 NLCS (Scioscia and Gibson homer as L.A. wins in extras)

May 14, 1996, Dwight Gooden's no-hitter

July 18, 1999, David Cone's perfect game

Game 2 of the 2000 World Series (Clemens' roid rage)

And, for a bit of schadenfeude:

Game 7 of the 1993 World Series (Joe Carter's walk-off)

Game 7 of the 2001 World Series (Luis Gonzalez singles off Mariano Rivera)

The Mets jersey in Yankee Stadium

The Babe has a presence

I finally made it out to Yankee Stadium '09 yesterday. It was a gorgeous, mid-70s afternoon and I didn't even need a seat in the shade to feel comfortable, but I had one, and I was.

After emerging from the D train, I walked around Babe Ruth Plaza to pick up my tickets near Gate 4 and took a glance over at the construction site that was once Yankee Stadia '23 and '76. It's nothing more than a dirt field, with the bat still standing behind what used to be the home plate area. I never had a particular affinity for the place -- my memories were of games in my childhood in the '80s, not of seeing great ballplayers -- but it was still a bit of a shock, as everyone says, to see it gone. It's definitely a good thing, though, that they're finally moving on with construction of the park.

Inside about an hour before first pitch, I took the time to walk the whole way around the concourse, a needed improvement from the last place. No longer do you feel like you're walking through the subterranian tunnels of some Cold War weapons base. Instead, the wider walkways -- though not quite as wide as Citi Field's, it seemed -- and high ceilings made for a much more comforting experience.

Out behind center field harkens back to the old stadium, though, as you pass through a tunnel beneath the bleachers and behind the casino sports bar. A set of oversized retired numbers line the wall by the doors to Monument Park (closed by the time I got there, after batting practice), one of three places where the numbers are displayed (Monument Park itself is another, and a third display -- visible on TV -- is behind the bleacher seating in left-center). Then the narrow corridor continues past the sports bar entrance and emerges in left field.

I bought some lunch and intended to eat it while standing at a ledge behind the nearest seating section, but then I noticed numbers on the ledge and an usher came to usher away two people to my left. That's when I realized you actually need a ticket to stand (or sit, because there are high chairs along the shelf) in any of these spots. I suppose they sell those tickets as reserved standing room, rather than general admission. I much prefer the traditional way -- the ledges are there for anyone to use as a convenience. There are just some times I'd prefer to buy my food and drink and consume it at the nearest possible spot rather than trudging back to my seat and risk spilling anything.

After taking in the first four innings or so from my seat, I spent a couple of frames exploring. I checked out the museum, with an impressive display of New York baseball history (even if it's there as much to assert the Yankees' dominance as much as to remember the Giants and Dodgers and acknowledge the Mets), and chuckled at so many instances of Other Teams' artifacts: jerseys and hats from the Dodgers, Giants and, yes, the Mets. Citi Field may have a Rotunda built to honor Jackie Robinson, but Yankee Stadium '09 has Jackie's hat, jersey and bat, plus jerseys from Mel Ott, Carl Hubbell, Pee Wee Reese and Mike Piazza. We won't be seeing a Derek Jeter jersey in the Mets' museum any time soon, and I'm fine with that.

The collection of autographed baseball is impressive, too, and I took special note of 15 of them, finding all randomly, except for Mike Pagliarulo's, which I looked up to get a shot for a friend of mine who loved Pags when he manned third base at the old place. It was cool to look at Thurman Munson's locker, too, which I had only glanced the one time I was in the Yankee clubhouse for a story and didn't have time to really look at it as I was keeping an eye out for Jeter, Jorge Posada, Sterling Hitchcock and Lee Mazzilli for the story I was working on. And next to Munson's locker is a replica of a current stall, with a touchscreen that allows fans to put their own names on the LED board above their heads and take pictures. One proud Mets fan with more guts and guile than I put "Let's Go Mets" on the sign and revelled in all of us taking his picture.

On the way back to my seat, I paused to look at all the overpriced baseball cards at one kiosk, including an uncut sheet of 1984 Topps for $100. Curious, I went on to eBay to see if any were available. One with a Don Mattingly rookie card (the attendant at the kiosk didn't say if either of the two sheets for sale had any particular players on them) could be had for $149, but another auction was only up to $4 or $5 with a few bids in.

I was back in my seat to see CC Sabathia struggle in the eighth, allowing Seattle to tie the score at 2. The guy next to me who had downed three Pepsis (that I had seen) by the bottom of the second had returned with another (no telling how many he had when I was gone) and expressed his displeasure at CC's inability to get outs and Joe Girardi's refusal to bring in Joba. It worked out OK in the end, though, because Alex Rodriguez hit his 595th home run -- a Yankee Stadium shot to be sure, landing in the first row in right field -- to give the Yankees a 4-2 lead that was protected in the ninth by Mariano Rivera.

In the end, I find the new place to be bright and welcoming, but no more intimate than the old place. It's still a colossus, certainly more stadium than ballpark, but it's a needed upgrade from the one it replaced. Even though the concourses are bigger and open to the field, it still felt in some places like we were inside, beneath the stand, rather than outside or under cover of the stands. That may be a feeling derived from the open space above our heads, sloped up and outward for the seating sections.

But it certainly isn't a bad place to see a ballgame -- if you can afford it.

Which cap for Piazza?

Rob Neyer on ESPN.com and Pat Andriola on The Hardball Times speculate that Mike Piazza will one day sport a Mets cap when he's inevitably inducted into the Hall of Fame. Their reasoning is based mostly on statistics and legacy, with no comments from Piazza.

I, too, think his bronzed likeness will someday sport the interlocking "NY," but I'm basing my belief on the man himself, hoping he was sincere in October 1998 and can be taken at his word.

''When I looked inside, I realized this is where I wanted to be,'' Piazza said. ''When you're not successful here, it's tough. But when you win here, it's twice as good as anyplace else.

''And if I happen to be so fortunate to go in the Hall of Fame, it's definitely going to be in a Mets uniform.''

I hope Piazza sticks to that statement, and I hope we get to find out three years from now.

Randy Johnson retires

After 22 seasons, Randy Johnson has announced his retirement. After originally planning a conference call for tomorrow, the Big Unit moved it up to tonight so as not to step on tomorrow's announcement of the new Hall of Fame class.

My lasting memory of seeing the Big Unit in person was on May 21, 2000, at Shea Stadium, when two of the most impressive home runs I've seen in person were hit. One was by Mike Piazza, who obliterated one of Johnson's pitches and launched it 492 feet into the mezzanine in left field. The other was hit by 5'11", 170-pound Joe McEwing.

And then, of course, there was this:



11:51 p.m. update...

Johnson leaves the game ranked impressively among baseball's greatest pitchers. His 10.6098 strikeouts per nine innings are the best among pitchers with 1,000 innings and, of course, he's second only to Nolan Ryan in strikeouts. His 303 wins rank 22nd, and many have speculated that he may be the last hurler to reach 300 victories. He's 30th in winning percentage at .646 and nine of those in front of him are Hall of Famers, with another two (Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens) Hall-worthy and two more (Johan Santana and Roy Halladay) seemingly on that track. He's also 22nd in allowing 7.2821 hits per nine innings.

That he rates pretty low in a few other categories shouldn't prevent him from being a first-ballot Hall of Famer. For one thing, voters will see the 4,875 strikeouts and 303 victories. Known for stretches of wildness, Johnson did walk 3.2580 batters per nine innings, ranking 716th all-time, three slots behind Babe Ruth (who had other things going for him), and ahead of just three Hall of Famers: Early Wynn, Goose Gossage and Hal Newhauser (at least among the top 1,000 ranked by Baseball-Reference). His 190 hit batters is third all-time, but Nos 1 (Walter Johnson), 2 (Eddie Plank) and 4 (Joe McGinnity) are all Hall of Famers. But despite his wildness with bases on balls and hit batters, the Big Unit only ranks 62nd in wild pitches, with 109. So either he was wild around the plate, or had a run of excellent catchers. The top six on the list are all in Cooperstown, led by Nolan Ryan's 277.

Following Randy Johnson's announcement, writers chipped in with their appreciations. In the style of Buster Olney ...

Jerry Crasnick likens Johnson to NBA Hall of Famer Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

Tim Brown says Johnson never made it look easy.

Maybe because it didn't come easy, Scott Miller writes.

Johnson's legacy won't diminish over time, posted Carl Stewart of the Oakland Tribune.

The Big Unit defined dominance, according to Ed Price.

Cooperstown awaits, writes Craig Calcaterra.

And, finally, Tyler Kepner offers an appreciation and a quartet of MLB.com reporters have the story, plus a look at his stops in Arizona and Seattle, as well as a tribute by Mike Bauman.

Piazza retires

So if Roger Clemens never throws another pitch in the Majors, he and Mike Piazza will be on the same Hall of Fame ballot in five years. That, of course, begs the question:

Will Roger throw a bat at the TV as he watches Mike give his speech in Cooperstown?

Surely some not-so-free agents

If money were no object, some team in baseball could potentially add nine future Hall of Famers to its roster this offseason, including what is obviously a baseball first: available sluggers who have reached the 700, 600, 500, 400 and 300 home-run plateaus.

First, the possible -- not all probable -- Hall of Famers: Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Tom Glavine, Andruw Jones, Mike Piazza, Mariano Rivera, Alex Rodriguez, Curt Schilling and Sammy Sosa. I'm not going to go into here the debate about whether Jones and Schilling are Hall of Famers, just like I'm not bothering with the technicality that Clemens hasn't filed (and could very well retire) and that Sosa's election to the Hall is very much in doubt.

And the homers:

Bonds, 762
Sosa, 609
A-Rod, 518
Piazza, 427
Jones, 368

Even in such a weak free-agent class, some video-game roster finagling could still produce a pretty competitive team. Obviously age is a factor in the real world, but not on the Xbox -- particularly if you turn off the injuries. A rotation consisting of Clemens, Glavine, Schilling, Kenny Rogers and Livan Hernandez would pile up some wins. Todd Jones or Eric Gagne could close. First base would be a problem -- Doug Mientkiewicz and Ryan Klesko seem to be the only options, unless you count Julio Franco -- but Kaz Matsui is there at second, David Eckstein at shortstop and A-Rod, obviously, at third. Or go with A-Rod at short and Pedro Feliz at third. The outfield has options from Bonds, Jones, Sosa (left to right) to an all-center lineup of Jones, Torii Hunter and Aaron Rowand, or some other grouping. Mike Piazza, Paul Lo Duca and Jorge Posada are there to catch.

But the team would probably have a payroll of $300 million, a tenth of that spent on A-Rod alone.

You'll always have a place in Mets' fans hearts, Mikey

I have to say I'm glad that Mike Piazza found work. He's a classy guy and a good player and he deserves to go out on his terms. It'll be sad to see him struggle, if that's how it's going to turn out, but he can still hit pretty well for a 37-year-old catcher. His career isn't that much different that Gary Carter's was, but at least with Piazza we know he's going into the Hall in a Mets cap.

Being in San Diego will bring his career full-circle, finishing up in SoCal where he began. Signing with the Phillies would've been similar, because he grew up outside Philadelphia, but being a Padre means that he has one trip to Shea Stadium next year, Aug. 8-10, with the Mets in San Diego April 20-23. With the Phillies, he would've been a two-hour drive away and at Shea for three separate series, which would've gotten old by the end. This way, the Mets likely will draw three good crowds for that weekday series, so long as Piazza is healthy that deep into the season.

And another thing: If Adam Dunn can hit 40 HR and drive in 101 runs with a fracture in his hand, as he did last year, I'm curious (to say the least) as to what he can do when healthy. Though from the sound of things, I'm not sure the appendage is 100 percent since Dunn acknowledged that it still hurts.

Counting down to pitchers and catchers

I know I've got a lot to catch up on. I still haven't finished the attendance comparison between the Nationals and Orioles and I have yet to go through my preseason predictions for each division to hold myself accountable for my rights and wrongs. That will come. For now, a few thoughts on the end of the season. And yes, the Yankees are still the last AL team to lose to an NL team in a game that "counts."

I hate Fox. I always will. They can give us crappy pregame blather, start the games at 8:30 and refuse to move up weekend games any earlier than 8 p.m. (after the pregame) and then they can take their horrendous ratings and deal with them. Fox has dumbed down baseball and it hasn't worked to draw in the viewers. Don't insult us with Scooter and over-the-top graphics and shameless promos of your own TV shows through the use of pointing out which stars who have no interest in the game were given prime seats and told to be in them in the fourth inning for the on-air shot and then allowed to go back to their hotels. It's bad enough that the network killed off the true game of the week and forces us to watch our own hometown teams on Saturday afternoons when we'd otherwise be able to do so when, sometimes, I'd just rather see Oakland and Anaheim rather than the Yankees and Blue Jays.


Bobby Valentine has a point, and I think it would drum up a lot of worldwide interest to see the champions of the two major international leagues face off in a true world series. I'd certainly watch, and I'd probably have more interest in seeing the White Sox and Marines than I did in seeing the White Sox and Astros in Games 3 and 4. A game between the Marines and White Sox that had more meaning than the untelevised exhibitions played by the Yankees and Mets on their respective trips to open the season in Japan recently would be more interesting than seeing the Mets and Cubs or Yankees and Devil Rays play games that count in the standings under the Tokyo Dome. Bob Klapisch is for it too, and he correctly posits that Bud Selig won't make an effort to at least explore the possibility. And yet, they think everyone wants to see a World Classic. It might be interesting, and I'll probably tune in, but if you were to give me the choice between an international competition every four years and a face-off between the champions of two nations every fall, I'd take the annual showdown.


Speaking of Selig, was there anything more revolting than seeing Jerry Reinsdorf fauning over his "Buddy" (Reinsdorf's term, not mine) after taking the World Series trophy during the awards presentation? Reinsdorf spewed some drivel about "the game" or whatever, and Selig stood there extending his lower lip over his upper, hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his no-doubt tassled loafers. (Speaking of the way this guy dresses, does he ever wear a suit, or does he always go with the khakis and contrasting sportcoat? No commissioner of the four major sports -- and I'm even including Gary Bettman here -- would present the championship trophy in anything other than a fine tailored suit, or at least something that looks like one.)

The owners put one of their own, Selig, into the commissioner's office the way George Bush nominates his cronies for political appointments. It's amazing how Bush runs the country so similarly to the way Selig runs baseball. Both chiefs come from the rich elite, protect their own, care more about the bottom line for themselves and their friends than the health and safety of the masses, and try their best to rule as a monarchy instead of a democracy. Between Fox and Selig, watching the All-Star Game and World Series can be as grating as it is enjoyable.


The free agents have begun to file. It's sad to see Mike Piazza on his way out of New York, but it's for the best. He was good, and maybe he'll do one of those one-day contracts, so popular in the NFL, to retire as a Met in a year or two.

Some random and not-so-thought-out predictions for free agent and other movements we'll see between now and late February:

Paul Konerko:Angels
Billy Wagner: Phillies (though I'd love to see him in blue and orange)
A.J. Burnett: Orioles (imagine him with Leo Mazzone?)
Jim Thome: Trade to White Sox
Ramon Hernandez: Mets
Manny Ramirez: Trade to Mets (something just tells me this one's going to happen this time)
B.J. Ryan: Mets or Phillies, depending on where Wagner ends up (I think he wants to close, not take closer money from the Yankees to set up Rivera)

Maybe I'll throw out more later.

Hey Willie! Free Wright!

There are still a few things about Willie Randolph's managerial style that confuse -- and frustrate -- me. For one thing, I can't understand why he's so stubborn about batting Mike Piazza ahead of David Wright, yet Jose Reyes is entrenched at the top of the order.

At the end of spring training, Randolph batted David Wright eighth and said that could be Wright's home for a while.

"You do have to pay your dues," Randolph said, alluding to Wright's status entering his first full season in the big leagues.

But then, Reyes didn't have to pay any dues. I understand that Reyes has been in the big leagues for part of the last two seasons, but because of his injury history, it didn't seem to me like he had fully paid all of his dues. Yet, despite just 13 walks all season and an on-base percentage under of .284 -- barely higher than Willie's career average. Randolph had a career OBP of .373. You'd think he'd understand how important it is. But then, it couldn't have been much of a plan, because Wright hasn't batted eighth all year. Randolph did say it "wasn't set in stone." Apparently, it was merely written in the sand. Right along the water. At low tide. Half an hour before high tide. Under a full moon. You see what I mean.

Still, Reyes continues to frustrate Randolph at times but holds onto his No. 1 spot in the batting order. Back before the All-Star break, when Reyes hit seventh in one game, I hoped it would last the week. It lasted one game.

As for Wright and Piazza, the young third baseman has put up offensive numbers as good as any third baseman in the league outside of Houston's juicebox, but has found himself batting sixth or seventh in all but 16 of his team-high 90 games. Wright leads the team in average, is second in home runs and second in RBI. Looking back at Thursday's first game of the second half, Wright drilled two solo home runs in his first two at bats off of Atlanta's Horacio Ramirez -- solo because he led off one inning after Piazza had ended the previous one with two runners on base, and the other because Piazza led off the inning by flying out. In his third at bat, he led off the seventh with a walk because a Piazza double play had ended the sixth. When Piazza came up in the eighth, my friends and I rooted for a strikeout when the count went to 0-2 so that Wright would have a chance with two runners on in a tie game, rather than a double play to end the inning. At least Piazza came through then.

Since that at bat? Piazza's 0-for-9 with four strikeouts. The at bats -- as well as Wright's, batting behind Piazza -- are as follows:

Friday, July 15 vs. Atlanta and John Smoltz
Struck out leading off the second. Wright homered.
Grounded out with one out in the fourth. Wright lined out to right.
Grounded out leading off the seventh. Wright walked.
Grounded into a double play in the ninth with the Braves ahead 2-1. Wright flied out to the warning track in right to end the game.

Sunday, July 17 vs. Atlanta and Mike Hampton
Struck out to end the first with a runner on second. Wright led off the second with a single.
Grounded out leading off the third. Wright singled to right.
Struck out to end the fourth with a runner on. Wright led off the fifth with a groundout to third.
Grounded into a fielder's choice to end the sixth. Wright led off the seventh with a pop out.
Struck out with one out in the eighth. Wright popped out to end the inning.

In three games (13 at bats) since the start of the second half, Piazza has ended innings with runners on base five times, forcing Wright to lead off the following inning. Wright had two hits and one walk in three of those five at bats. There were another three times Piazza made an out ahead of a Wright single or walk, and one more in which Piazza got himself out with a runner on ahead of Wright (the double play in the ninth of the 2-1 game). In all, of 13 at bats, Piazza made an out ahead of a Wright hit or walk six times, and erased runners on base six times -- though some of the at bats apply to both instances.

In the end, I think what bewilders me most about the intricacies of Randolph's managing -- and I do understand this is his first go at it -- is how Reyes continues to lead off despite not getting the job done, and Piazza continues to hit fifth despite not getting the job done, yet Wright comes through time and again, yet his chances are watered down (read: come with fewer men on base) because Piazza's making outs in front of him.

All Willie needs to do is look across town. There, his mentor, Joe Torre, has faced the harsh reality of pushing Bernie Williams down-down-down in the batting order because his bat has slowed and age has rendered him nothing like the player he once was. Williams is batting ninth tonight. Ninth! Piazza's situation is the same, yet Randolph -- who has no long-time allegiance to Piazza, so it's not like writing his name in the fourth or fifth spot in the order is something he's been doing for years and is second-nature to him -- can't seem to break free from the rut.

More than just another game

Regular-season baseball games can be as ordinary as a trip to the mall. You go because you can, because you need something, and sometimes you come away with a steal. You get more than you expected; you're pleasantly surprised. You go to the games to see some baseball, hope for some home runs, root for the home team and look for the highlights on ESPN when you get home.

When my friends and I bought a six-pack of Mets tickets for this season, we did so in part because we haven't missed a Shea opener in six years and this time around, one of the six-packs offered Opening Day, not to mention five other games on convenient nights for us. Well, at least for me -- no Friday or Monday games. Last night's game was the third in our plan and it was fun to head out to the ballpark for the first game following the All-Star break. We had no reason to expect anything more than another ballgame in another summer, but when I shuffled through the door at 11 p.m., Casey could tell right away that the game had been more than just a night at the ballpark.

"Were you screaming?" she asked after I said hello in my gravelly voice, the result of a sore throat following a night of cheers and a few jeers.

The hoarseness began on a close play at third base, when Jose Reyes ran down a ball in the hole and David Wright -- who scrambled up from his prone position following an unsuccessful dive for the ball -- hurried to third, arriving at the same time as the ball and Atlanta's Andy Marte. But the umpire called Marte safe on the slide. We had no reason to believe our eyes more than the umpires, considering he had the perfect angle without Wright's body obstructing his view, and we were 300 feet away in an upper-deck box on the first-base side of home plate. But it looked good from our viewpoint.

Of course, it got really exciting after that. We'd already seen Cliff Floyd's tumbling catch in left-field foul territory, but this time it was Wright, who had already hit two solo home runs and committed an error that allowed a runner to reach ahead of Adam LaRoche's two-run home run that gave the Braves a 3-2 lead. On a suicide squeeze bunt attempt, Wright raced in and dove to catch the ball before it hit the ground. Marte had crossed home plate before Wright got up off the ground, then trotted back to third for the double play.

In the bottom of the eight, the Mets got two men on with one out for Mike Piazza. My friends and I said to one another how he simply needed to get the ball in play -- in the air. Pop out, line out, hit a fly ball. Single. Just don't hit into a double play. "A strikeout would almost be the best thing here," we said. "Keep the inning alive for Wright," who was on deck.

This is where our faith had gone. In past years, we would've relished the image of Piazza striding to the plate in this situation -- tie game, two men on, one out. Bobby Cox had brought in a left-hander to face Floyd, and he walked him on four pitches. That was probably more planned than not. "Don't let him beat you," Cox might have told John Foster, "they've got Piazza up next." In Atlanta earlier this year, Cox walked Floyd at least once, maybe twice, to get to Piazza, who struck out both times.

I've watched at least some of nearly every Mets game this season, and I've noticed the sometimes-slight, sometimes-steep decline of Piazza. He swings at more first pitches, missing more than he hits. He flails at balls out of the strike zone, nearly putting a knee to the ground as he whiffs at another offering in the dirt, then returns to the dugout, lips pursed, knowing he's fading. His bat's slower and those balls on the outer half that he used to drive up the right-center alley for doubles, or launch over the right-field wall as one of the best opposite-field power hitters in the game, are now strikes as he swings through them -- or, rather, through the spot where they passed, a split second before.

So when Giants cast-off Jim Brower got ahead on Piazza 0-2, the stranger to my right said to his girlfriend, "It's better if he strikes out here." We laughed, because we thought it was true. But when Brower's letter-high fastball got too much of the plate on the outer half, Piazza's eyes must have lit up the way mine do when I see the red circle of a fat pitch in the hitter's hot zone in MVP Baseball. The ball carried out to right field, and first I thought it was a double down the line. But then I saw the arc and looked down at Ryan Langerhans sprinting toward the corner. I knew it was over his head, but was it too high? Would the gravity win out before it had traveled far enough to clear the wall? As Langerhans slowed when he reached the warning track, I couldn't tell at first if it was because he had a read on it or he was going to reach the wall. But then it came down, glancing off the front edge of the loge section, and richochetted behind Langerhans. Home run.

We stood and cheered, our cries rising as Piazza neared home plate. We kept it up through the first pitch of Wright's at bat, prompting a curtain call from Piazza. The atmosphere at Shea was better than it usually is for a regular-season game. The size of the crowd -- 43,319 -- no doubt helped, but maybe it was the presence of enough Braves fans to make a difference when Atlanta scored. What brings them out to Shea when they can't be bothered to go out to the Ted in Georgia? Nevertheless, I think their attendance brought out the best in Mets fans as we cheered to the point of exhaustion.

I don't expect the Mets to be true contenders for the postseason, but the nature of the NL East this year means that they're in the race, for the moment. Perhaps last night's crowd knows that this team is a bad week away from securing last place, from trading off key players within the next two weeks. We don't want another lost summer, another listless August, another meaningless September of playing out the stream. Last night's game and this four-game series with the Braves is as important as any the rest of the season. The Mets can't win two out of four anymore -- at .500 heading into the game, that's exactly what they've done all season. Two out of four is stagnant. That won't cut it. Two out of three, three out of four -- that's progress. That's what they need to do. It had to start last night, and it started with the old guard -- Piazza -- and the new generation -- Wright's two home runs and three runs scored, Carlos Beltran's 4-for-4.

We're watching Piazza's last days as a Met. I've been a fan since I first saw that Mets hat atop his head as I spied SportsCenter from across a Cape Cod pizza joint in 1998. I'd admired his ability before that. I'd like to see him go out strong, sign with an AL team that visits Shea in 2006 so we can give him one last ovation, and then retire after another season or two. Then we can all make our reservations for the last weekend in July 2012, or whenever it will be, and head up to the country to see that plaque unveiled, the interlocking "NY" set in bronze on the cap on his head.

Extra Innings Blogging

Don't know why I started to do this, but I had all these thoughts and observations as I was flipping through some ballgames in the early part of the evening before dinner, and before watching some other TV. So I wrote them out.

Mets at Braves, 8:10 p.m. I’d forgotten that Mets announcer Ted Robinson went to Notre Dame, until a friend just reminded me. I looked him up in the alumni directory – his major (American Studies) and dorm (Grace Hall) were the same as my own. Though he graduated (May 1978) four months before I turned 2 and seven months before my sister was born. … The Mets are getting guys on, and running (stolen bases for Jose Reyes, third, and Mike Cameron, second, in the first), but they’re stranding the runners. Mike Piazza struck out with two on in the first, and Doug Mientkiewicz hit into what I think Robinson said was his third double play in as many as bats, going back to last night’s game.

Phillies at Marlins, 8:15 p.m. Man, is Brett Myers on this year or what? He’s dealing again in Florida – four shutout innings now, a 2-0 lead. He’s become the stopper in that rotation – the guy they want going to the mound to end a losing streak. And for the Phillies lately, any visit to Miami has prompted a losing streak.

Mets at Braves, 8:23 p.m. Sorry, I’ll be coming back to this one a lot. Tim Hudson’s laboring tonight. Three hits, a walk, and he’s gone to three-ball counts on a couple of hitters already, and there’s two outs in the third. Fifty-two pitches after he gets Piazza looking at a full-count pitch clearly over the inner half of the plate, two runners left. Swing, man! David Wright’s continuing his tear with a single in his first at bat, now 4-for-4 with a walk in his last five trips to the plate. He’s 11-for-19 to this moment during his six-game hitting streak.

Rockies at Brewers, 8:32 p.m. Milwaukee’s staked Victor Santos to a 3-0 lead after one. I’m hoping for a second straight stellar spot start from a Brewers starter for my fantasy team. I had Chris Capuano last night and dumped him for Santos tonight. I figured the young Rocks – the youngest team in the majors, the graphic on FSN North just told me – will come through for me again. On the mound for Colorado is Jeff Francis, the Rockies’ young stud prospect, whom I drafted but had to cut loose.

Red Sox at Blue Jays, 8:34 p.m. Top of the sixth, 4-3 Blue Jays. David Wells is struggling this season.

Phillies at Marlins, 8:35 p.m. Kenny Lofton walks, drops the bat across the plate and sort of hot-dogs it down to first, and apparently Josh Beckett didn’t like it. There were words, and Lofton took a few steps toward the mound halfway down the line. There were discussions among umpires, and between umpires and coaches. Nothing happened, just a bunch of inflated egos brushing in the Miami night.

Twins at Indians, 8:36 p.m. It’s 1-1 with an out in the top of the sixth, but Minnesota has runners at first and third. I’d considered both Jake Westbrook, who’s pitched well against the Twins this season, and Cleveland starter Joe Mays for spot starts, but Santos’s numbers and matchup were too good to overlook.

Mets at Braves, 8:37 p.m. Woah. In the 15 minutes it took me to surf through all those other games, Tom Glavine’s dispatched the Braves in the bottom of the third and Hudson already has two Mets (including Wright) out in the top of the fourth. Still scoreless. Could be a pitchers duel between Hudson and the classic Glavine.

Tigers at Yankees, 8:39 p.m. Had to take a look. 7-0 Yanks, bottom of the fifth, runner on second, A-Rod up, no outs. Ho-hum. Yeah, the Yankees have won 12 of 14 since the big panic move of early May, but that could have been predicted when you realized that they had 12 straight against Oakland and Seattle. And the Mets should’ve won two of three over the weekend, but they gave away Sunday’s game to those Bronx boys. I might make it back to this game.

Mets at Braves, 8:41 p.m. Hey, Mientkiewicz is on first! Way to get Glavine to the plate now, rather than leading off the fifth.

Twins at Indians, 8:42 p.m. I guess Jacques Jones got that runner in from third. It’s hard to tell what I miss when I leave a channel, because Yahoo’s box scores aren’t updating and I don’t feel like jumping over to ESPN or one of the other sites. So I’ll just move on …

Phillies at Marlins, 8:43 p.m. One-hundred pitches for Beckett with two outs in the sixth. First and third, David Bell up with a 2-2 count. Still 2-0. Bell down looking on a curve – perhaps questionable – at the letters.

Mariners at Orioles, 8:44 p.m. Two outs with Rafael Palmeiro up. I’m hitting a lot of games when they have two outs in an inning at the moment. 2-1 Seattle in the third, runner on first. I haven’t seen many games at Camden Yards so far this season, but I don’t remember noticing that, behind the plate, not only do they have a brick wall creating the border between seats and field, but the gate behind the plate has a brick design on it. Kinda funny. Palmeiro down swinging on a changup.

Red Sox at Blue Jays, 8:46 p.m. This one’s moving along. Top of the seventh. You can kind of see where I’m flipping through the Extra Innings channels by looking at the order of the games. At the moment, I’m going up from 441 to 449 (those with games on at the moment); earlier, I’d gone from 449 down to 442. But now I’ve got to go eat dinner. It’s a late one tonight.

Mets at Braves, 9 p.m. The Braves went up 1-0 and they played that stupid, insulting, annoying tomahawk chant. Idiots. Then they tried to squeeze in a run, but Glavine dove and flipped the ball home for the out. Suckers.

OK, I’m done for now. Time to watch some other things, as per the lady’s wishes.

Minaya knows when to let go

This week's New York magazine has a great article on Omar Minaya and the Mets. It delves into Minaya's professional history and his plan of action after returning to the Mets at GM back in September.

I took particular note to the paragraphs that talked about Al Leiter's departure. I'd heard a lot before, from Leiter's 20-minute-plus discussion with Steve Somers on WFAN back in December to various articles -- particularly in today's Daily News, where Leiter blames his departure, in part, on "Mike & The Mad Dog" on FAN. I mean, c'mon, Al. Please.

Then, on Michael Kay's show on the way home tonight, a caller talked about the running back situation with the Jets and compared it to the Knicks in 1994 with Patrick Ewing. This caller felt that the move 11 years ago would've been to trade Ewing when they could've gotten several top players and/or first-round picks in return. He wondered if maybe the Jets should've done the same -- trade Curtis Martin, last season's NFL rushing leader, for a player to fill a need and a first-round pick and a later-round pick or two. Promote the promising Lamont Jordan to starting running back. Kay agreed he had a point, adding that he felt the downfall of the Boston Celtics was their determination to hold onto the past and not cutting ties with Larry Bird, Robert Parrish and Kevin McHale when they could no longer carry the team deep into the playoffs.

Minaya's doing what the Jets, Knicks and Celtics probably should have done. He's said goodbye to 39-year-old Al Leiter and 57-year-old John Franco, two longtime Mets who deserve a special place in fans' hearts, but not on the roster anymore. It won't surprise me if he does the same this offseason with Tom Glavine and Mike Piazza, unless, of course, the right deal comes up in July. It might be tough to replace Piazza with anything more than a weak-bat, strong-glove kind of backstop, but a good defensive catcher presumably will be the final piece needed to shore up the defense up the middle. Sign Charles Johnson for a year, finally make that trade involving Mike Cameron or Cliff Floyd, and use the money for a big bat in the outfield. Next winter, we should see Brian Giles and Lance Berkman on the market.

Piazza has long been my favorite Met since I looked up at the bar TV at Craigville Pizza and Mexican in Hyannisport, Massachusetts, and saw the trade announced on SportsCenter. But now there's David Wright, Jose Reyes and Carlos Beltran. There's Pedro and Kris Benson and you just can't have a 37-year-old catcher as the heart of your order in the National League and expect to have a shot at going far into October. Come November, I'll be ready to let go. He's done enough to have that interlocking "NY" on his Cooperstown plaque in seven or eight years.

March is here. Exhibition games have begun, tickets to six Mets games and a Giants game are already in my possession, with more untold games to plan. Opening Day is four weeks from Monday.

It just can't go by fast enough.

Hair today, gone tomorrow: New changes for the New Mets

In addition to all the big changes around the Mets during the offseason, Willie Randolph (himself one of the changes) ushered in a new one on the first day of workouts in Port St. Lucie.

Taking a cue from his former employer over in the Bronx, Randolph dictated that there will be no facial hair (see last note), other than mustaches, on the Mets.

Call them the New Razor Mets.

At least Mike Piazza won't have to make any more decisions on how to wear his face.


This just won't cut it ...


Neither will the ridiculous fu-manchu ...


And, mercifully, no chance of the man-gina returning.

The Mets have also changed spring training (and, we can only assume, batting practice) jerseys. I've expressed my displeasure with their black jerseys in the past, and these just look ridiculous.


The NHL season may be cancelled, but the team sweaters were recycled.

The black swatch on the shoulders makes them look like hockey sweaters.

As ridiculously garrish as they were, I prefer the orange ones they wore the past two seasons.


Though shades of the Houston Astros c. 1982, I liked the orange-and-blue.

*****
The college baseball season has begun in earnest, in my mind, because the top northern schools have made their first trips south to open their seasons.

Notre Dame charged out of the gate with an 18-3 win in Orlando. Their nine hit batsmen were one short of an NCAA record.

New Jersey's top team, Rutgers, also opened with a victory in the college debut of former Little League World Series star Todd Frazier (see third story in link for a picture of little Toddy). The infielder, who was drafted by the Rockies last summer, went 3-for-4 and homered in his second at bat. I'm not sure yet if his move to third base was because of the incumbent at RU or more for Frazier's benefit, but it will be interesting to see how well he develops and how high he climbs when it comes time to call his name again on draft day.

It Still Counts: All-Star Gameday

All-Star Game Day, July 13, 2004, Houston

Really, it could have been Christmas morning. That's the kind of excitement Tuesday held. Laura played hooky from work and the three of us went to Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch. Joe Morgan was in the hotel lobby when she came in to get me, and she thought about getting a baseball for him to sign, then didn't.

We rode the shuttle to the ballpark together, getting there around 3:30. I went down to the field and sat on the Astros bench in the dugout to relax and be ready for batting practice at 4 o'clock. Stark and Kurkjian stood at the railing and talked. A few all-stars came out and mingled. Mark Loretta talked with someone about teammate Phil Nevin: "If he likes you, he'll do anything for you." That came after a statement that held the opposite meaning, if you know what I mean.

Being 5-foot-7, I'm dwarfed on the field when the players come out. Most people are taller than me, so even the sports writers look down to me. So unless I can get to the front of the crowd, I don't see much. So when, standing near the batting cage, I heard "Derek! Derek! Jeter!" coming from above the NL dugout behind me, I knew he was around. When I turned, two media members stepped aside and Derek Jeter came right at me. He obviously hadn't seen me on the other side of the tall people. "Excuse me," he said, then brushed past me and embraced Barry Larkin in a bear hug from behind.


Members of the shortstop brotherhood.

Mike Piazza came out of the dugout and walked out to the outfield behind second base. He said hello to Albert Pujols, then asked to see his first baseman's mitt, trying it on.

I took some pictures of Jim Thome taking throws at first base, of Mike Lowell in the batting cage, of Bobby Abreu next to it.

After the NL batted, the players went out to centerfield for the team photo and I noticed Tommy Lasorda amid a sea of reporters. When the NL players came back in from the outfield, Piazza put his arm around Lasorda as the two talked.


The catcher and the godfather.

Fox had its pregame desk set up in foul territory down the first base line, and Jeanie Zelasko had her long blond hair done up all wavy and wore a brilliant pink jacket. She just seems to get more bimboed up each week.

In another case of someone seemingly following me, I turned around to see Roger Clemens coming off the field. It was like a train wherever he went: always followed by a trail of reporters and/or security. At one point, the script "Astros" was headed straight for my head. ESPN's Chris Berman pulled him aside for a quick interview, and I headed down the steps into the dugout for a little bit.


Boomer and the Rocket.

I snapped a shot of Tom Glavine giving an interview and was heading up the steps when I heard the telltale cries from the fans above the dugout: "Mike! Mike!" Piazza was coming. I looked ahead of me, saw him coming toward the steps I was ascending, and backed down quickly, hoping to get a picture as he walked into the dugout. He was walking too fast, however, and I barely stepped to the side on the steps as he reached them. Looking up to the fans, he said, "Not now. I've got to go inside." He gestured beneath the stands as he spoke, pointing downward, and nearly conked me in the head with his elbow as he did so.


Glavine 47.

This 75th All-Star Game is the second in the two-year experiment to give home-field advantage in the World Series to the league that wins the midsummer exhibition game. Because baseball screwed up the concept so badly, coming to a climax with the 2002 tie in Milwaukee, they had to do something. I don't think using the All-Star Game is the answer, but it is at least nice to see it treated like a meaningful game again. There's no chance of it ever becoming meaningful again for the sake of league pride, so I guess this is the next best thing. What they should really do is have a monetary bonus for the winning players, a prize you only get if you actually play in the game. That would motivate them. It might cause some problems with players who aren't used, but something could be worked out for them. If they were healthy and able to play, but didn't, then they'd get a smaller, token bonus, but a guy like Schilling or Sean Casey, who were there and took part in just about everything else, wouldn't because they couldn't contribute. But the MLB slogan "This One Counts" seems a little ridiculous to me. It counts, but it doesn't. The stats don't count, the game result doesn't count. Only the winner matters. And yet, as if to remind the players that they truly are playing for something, the bases not only carried the All-Star Game logo on top, but the "This One Counts" slogan on the four sides. Any player diving into a base on a pickoff attempt or an extra-base hit will see those words coming closer. I think it was Scott Rolen who was quoted in an article I read that said the All-Star Game wasn't the right way to decide who gets homefield advantage. It shouldn't be decided by 32 guys on either side, he said, suggesting interleague play be the determining factor. Let all 700 players decide it was his point.

Exhausted, I left the field and joined Laura and David in the stands to talk with them some more before leaving for the mezzanine. I staked out a spot in the front row, directly above the Astros bullpen mound, planning to take pictures of Clemens as he warmed up. It put me in the perfect spot to see Roger start his warmups by long-tossing with his bullpen catcher in the outfield. When Piazza wandered out from the dugout, Roger kept throwing with the bullpen catcher, so Mike put his mask and glove down and did some stretches. When he moved to the bullpen, Clemens brought his bullpen guy with him. Then Piazza went in and took two or three pitches before hopping on a bullpen cart for a quick trip back to the dugout for the player introductions. Ivan Rodriguez, meanwhile, remained in the AL bullpen throughout introductions warming up Mark Mulder. In listening to New York talk radio and some viewpoints from Houston and elsewhere since last Tuesday, Mike Piazza has come out of this whole "feud" with Clemens as the good guy. It was Clemens who hit him, Clemens who threw the bat, Clemens who used his own catcher to warm up for the All-Star Game. It was even Clemens who, in the midst of his worst first inning ever, who shook off Piazza's pitch to throw a slider that Manny Ramirez sent into the left-field seats. I've since heard that the reason Piazza's so pissed at Clemens is that somewhere during the past few years Clemens has made an insensitive and derogatory comment about Piazza and, well, his sexual preference.


The Rocket warms up.

When it comes to Clemens, I don't blame him for signing with the Astros and I think the Yankee fans who whine and cry over his "betrayal" of the Yankees are whining for whining's sake. How many players have the Yankees taken from their original teams, players the fans now despise for simply jumping at the money the Yankees can offer? Nowhere does it say that every potential Hall of Famer since 1990 has to play for the Yankees and retire a Yankee, but to hear some of the callers to New York talk radio, you'd think it was one of baseball's new rules or trends, like the bereavement list or alternate jerseys. That being said, I'm not a big fan of Clemens. I'm in awe at what he's done as a pitcher, but I don't admire him the way I did Nolan Ryan. It was amusing to see Clemens get shelled by the AL in his home park, and I've always felt there was a difference in Clemens and a pitcher who throws inside. There's throwing inside and there's throwing at a batter's head. A case can be made for the likes of Don Drysdale and Bob Gibson, notoriously aggressive headhunters, but at least those guys had to pay for it themselves by taking their turn at bat. Until this year, and with the exception of that one interleague game at Shea Stadium a couple of seasons ago, Clemens never had to pick up a bat and stand in the batter's box.

I watched the game and kept score, not an easy task on a standard scoresheet (I used the one in the media guide) for an All-Star Game with so many changes. I still haven't gone through it to make sure it's accurate. My seat in the front row of the section nearly proved to be the perfect spot. When David Ortiz sent a rocket to right-center, I took a quick look and declared, "That's coming up here." It hit the front of the temporary table about 15 feet to my left, bounced back toward the field, then ricocheted off the railing and three rows up into the hands of another journalist. Within minutes, he'd taken several calls from friends and family who saw him on TV and then he went hunting for a clubhouse pass to borrow from another reporter (not all of us, myself included, had the Texas-shaped badge necessary for clubhouse access). "It's his first all-star homer," he said. "It's right for me to keep it."

After the sixth inning, my prediction came true when the roof began rolling back. I didn't notice it at first, instead watching the stadium's "Kiss-Cam" on the monitors in the press area. But when the Fox feed came back on, it was a wide shot of the field showing the growing opening. "Drayton loves the roof," Laura told me earlier after we'd talked about the home run derby. "He's got a button for it in his office." I figured that if he was going to open it for the derby, he'd surely want to show it off during the game itself. Again, before the roof was 1/3 open, I felt the warmth from outside already, but also the breeze. If there was a breeze, it was bearable. Without the air circulating, it was stuffy. After the seventh inning, Laura called me to say that the people in the seats next to theirs had left, so I joined them for the last inning and a half, passing through the pleasantly air conditioned club level one last time.

When the game ended, we had no need to stick around for any post-game ceremonies, so we were among the first ones on the first shuttle. Our driver, a rotund black woman, enjoyed getting us to the hotel as quickly -- yet safely, she assured us -- as possible. She floored it through yellow lights at intersections and took any opportunity to change lanes when other drivers left the smallest opening. After one adept maneuver, she laughed heartily. "I think she's cackling," I said to Laura. My thought was confirmed when we made another yellow light, and some passengers closer to the front commented as well. "Don't worry, honey," the driver said, "I'll get you there safe."

Laura, David and I had a drink in the bar area and ordered a plate of nachos before, just after midnight, they left. As I headed up stairs with my beer, I saw Karl Ravesh with one of his own, just back from the ballpark. On the television, Chris Berman anchored the post-game edition of Baseball Tonight.

In the morning, I saw Harold Reynolds at the ATM and Berman at the front desk, then again out in the driveway asking the bellhop for a car to the airport. Berman left in a private car while I waited for the cheaper shuttle. I should've taken a cab myself, expensing it on the magazine, instead of waiting for the van, which then stopped at the Hilton and was packed, nine men and a woman sitting three to a bench seat for the half-hour drive north.

Waiting at gate E7, I saw Tom Gordon's family come through and sit down in the waiting area, one of his sons holding the large dry-mounted placard with Tom's name, left over from the media day, I guessed. Until I was told I was sitting in the wrong seat, it appeared that I would be flying home next to one of the Gordon boys, but instead I had the bulkhead on the aisle, two rows in front of Reynolds and his wife.

Back in Newark, I chatted with Reynolds at baggage claim after I noticed his wife carrying my magazine, then went outside to see two undercover cops putting hand cuffs on a man posing as a taxi driver. It's one of the current concerns at airports: people who pose as drivers and offer to take passengers from the airport to their hotel for a fee around the same or cheaper than what a legitimate cab would cost. But when they get to your destination, they charge you much more than they quoted you and won't give you your luggage from the trunk until you pay up.

So from Kenny Mayne as I entered the hotel to a conversation with Harold Reynolds and a sting operation in progress, it was nonstop excitement for five days. Next year, Detroit, if I can handle the heat in an open ballpark.

I think I'll manage.