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About Us
Faith and Fear in Flushing made its debut on Feb. 16, 2005, the brainchild of two longtime friends and lifelong Met fans.

Greg Prince discovered the Mets when he was 6, during the magical summer of 1969. He is a Long Island-based writer, editor and communications consultant. Contact him here.

Jason Fry is a Brooklyn writer whose first memories include his mom leaping up and down cheering for Rusty Staub. Check out his other writing here.

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View Article  Martinez Full of Grace
Podres to Conti to Pedro to Humber. Plus Koufax floating around camp. Yes, it's enough to make the heart sing. And Tom Terrific hasn't even shown up yet, assuming he still pops by to dispense advice on grips and motions. We've got great pitching in the past and in the future, and with Martinez on board, maybe at least once every five days right now.

A New Englander I know congratulated me on the signing of Beltran with the subtext, "this should make up for Pedro." I was a little disconcerted by that. Getting Pedro is a good thing, I said. Isn't it?

Isn't it?

Á la Charles Jefferson in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (and maybe even Mike Piazza in 1998), I looked at Pedro Martinez donning our cap, modeling our jersey and standing in front of our logo in December and couldn't quite shake the notion that he doesn't really live here, he just flies in for games. But he doesn't. He's ours. He's a Met. The actual Pedro Martinez pitches for the New York Mets. Son of a gun.

Has anybody actually stopped and grasped this fact? We're not talking about a wheezing Warren Spahn just hanging on. We're not talking about Dean Chance filling in a trivia answer for ex-Cy Young winners. We've got a Hall of Famer who went 16-9 for the world champions last year.

Sure, I'm aware of his reputation and his hijinks and whatever went on in his old place of business. But I haven't seen a hint of it yet here. OK, so he wore a wacky fake head on his real head one day. And he's let it be known he doesn't think much of all of Willie's rules. So he's human. It's hardly enough to constitute rationalization just yet.

He's teaching Philip Humber the circle change, for god's sake. He's smiling with and throwing heat to Mike. He's shown up every day as far as we know. He looked great the last time he took the mound when it counted, against St. Louis in the World Series. If Pedro Martinez is a problem, we should all have problems like that.

I don't even fear those words will haunt me come August. He may not pitch like the Pedro of legend, but I have a feeling that the "what crazy thing is he gonna do now?" stuff will be left behind in the other league. New York, for all its nutsiness, isn't Boston. We've had malcontents -- we've cornered the market on them at times -- but they don't blossom into full-grown subsidiaries of the larger cause. At worst, say Bonilla, they annoy and they are shunned. If Pedro pitches something like the Pedro of 2004 (and in the National League, if we're to believe the trendy school of thought, the lack of a DH will translate 16-9 to 26-3) and is merely colorful, he'll and we'll be fine.

It was wondered upon his signing whether Pedro might get bored having to live outside of a pennant race. Shoot, I'll get bored if we're not in a pennant race. But the man is not a child. Yes, I'm projecting whatever stoic qualities I want to onto him, but let's assume that the guy who had the greatest run of pitching since Koufax is a professional.
View Article  Philip, Pedro and Wayne

A rainout?! On March 3? For the first telecast taking place outside work hours? That hurt. All rainouts before the last week of April are cruel, but when it's the second day of the exhibition season and New York resembles the surface of Pluto, that's twisting the knife something fierce. I sulked, bi-doop bi-doop bi-dooped my way through a little TiVo, then went out and got drunk.

The scribes' player du jour is Philip Humber, now being cast for the role of Guy Who Should Go North According to Insane Fans Calling WFAN. Granted, a cursory inspection of young Mr. Humber reveals plenty to ooh and ahh about: big dude whose fastball hits 97, 12-to-6 curve, change-up, splitter. And his fanning Miguel Cairo on a 3-2 hook before having an inning of pro ball under his belt was pretty impressive, even if no one really saw it but a few guys in blue, orange, black and white and some egrets. I'm most impressed that he managed to hit 42 guys at Rice -- not because I'm bloodthirsty, but because these days aluminum bats make most college and high-school pitchers positively allergic to pitching inside. One less thing to learn climbing the ladder.

Then there's that old mystic chords of memory thing that you and I are suckers for. The other day Humber asked Pedro for a little tutorial on the circle change, which Pedro was apparently happy to offer. Pedro's circle change, as we've heard many times by now, was taught to him by Guy Conti, who in turn learned it from Johnny Podres, who earned our spiritual ancestors' eternal gratitude by using it to ruin the Yankees in 1955.

Closer to home, Humber's coach at Rice was Wayne Graham, collector of 33 at-bats (three of them hits) with the '64 Mets. .091, but still one of ours, darn it. I can hear the Ken Burns music now.