As FAFIF's 2009 Mets Fantasy Camp correspondent, he's hit, he's run, he's fielded, he's thrown and he's blogged with power, so in our book, that makes Jeff Hysen a five-tool blogger. We appreciate his taking time out from his week of a lifetime to share his experiences with all of us here and are honored to bring you his final St. Lucie report.

Anthony Young struck out 245 batters in his major league career, so that means that I am in good company. The final day of camp was wonderful in all respects. I couldn’t sleep, partially in anticipation of playing against the pros at Tradition Field, and partially because my hand hurt after getting jammed during Friday's championship game (lineout to first). It shouldn’t surprise you that I was one of the first campers to get to the field, but there were more pros there than campers. I noticed that the pros were throwing and taking BP as the week went on to prepare for the game. I think that once a game, any game, even one in a fantasy camp, is at hand, a competitive streak kicks in for them. It's what differentiates them as pros.

I didn’t have to tell Anthony Young to “bring the s**t” (not that I would have, I couldn’t hit the s**t of a 50-year-old CPA) but he brought it anyway. He was throwing at about 80 and he easily mowed us down en route to a 4-0 win (three-inning game, pros are home, pros have a two-run limit per inning). I played second base and it was great being on the same field that the Mets will play on in one month. Pete Schourek hit an inside-the-park homer to dead center. (This probably won’t surpass what he said was his biggest career thrill: hitting a home run off Curt Schilling.)

After one last trip to the clubhouse, it was back to the field for the farewell lunch. I was glad that my parents were able to meet some of the pros featured in these columns, including Joe Pignatano, Lenny Randle, John Stearns and Pat Zachry, who didn't mention to them anything about my always [friggin'] smiling.

I had three goals for the week (other than to have a good time):

1) To get two hits; one would have been a fluke. I hit .179, with 4 hits and 3 RBI. Laugh if you want, but that’s fine with me. Of course I wish I did better but, as my son Dylan told me, I’ve never faced a curveball before. Plus, all the BP in the world can’t match hitting in a game.

2) To make a great play in the field. Nope. I made some routine plays at second, caught a flyball in right and made a few errors at both positions.

3) Not to get hurt. It turns out that this is impossible, as every camper absorbed some sort of injury. My quads tightened, I got a blister, I have a big black and blue mark on my left bicep, and, as mentioned above, I hurt my hand. Yet I’m definitely not complaining.

The pros really believe that it’s a simple game. As Willie Montañez told me last night, “see the ball, hit the ball.” Yeah. Ballplayers don’t believe in “clutch” or “choke”. They believe that sometimes the other guy beats you.

It’s fun to go out for drinks with a plastic surgeon (cheers, Ira and Howie). If, however, Pete Schourek wants to make a bar bet with you, decline.

I talked with Randy Niemann Friday night and he is excited to be with the big club this year. Since he’s the bullpen coach, I’m not sure how that translates into winning more games but he’s somebody who has won multiple titles (seven, he told me, including the 1986 World Series).

At dinner last night, we sat together as a team and I said to “Sully,” one of my teammates, how special this felt. He said that guys like us haven’t been on too many teams (that’s not true for all campers but it is in my case) and this camp gave us the chance to see what it was like, albeit for five days.

Please indulge the following closing sentiments...

To Alan, Vinny, Allan, Ed, Victor, Fred, Rich, Dwight and John: thank you being my teammates.

To Buzz Capra, Willie Montañez and John Shoemaker: I wish I could have played as well as you coached.

To my parents: thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

To my colleagues: the Mets don’t want me — I’ll be in on Monday.

To my friends: my apologies in advance as I will undoubtedly be telling you stories about camp until you’re sick of them.

To Greg and Jason: thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts on this great blog. (I feel like Billy Preston.)

To the pros and staff at Mets Fantasy Camp: you put on a helluva show.

To my fellow campers: it’s been a blast.

To you, for reading: wow — thank you very much.

It was an honor wearing the uniform of the New York Mets. I hope that the real New York Mets feel the same way.

Finally: some things, probably most things in life don’t meet let alone exceed expectations.

This did.

The final day of Mets Fantasy Camp is at hand and FAFIF correspondent Jeff Hysen doesn't sound quite ready to leave the big league life behind for the drudgery of Lean Cuisines, but that, one supposes, is why they call the week he's been living in a fantasy. But there's still the little matter of the final game Saturday, and what it will be like to face big league pitching, so the fantasy ain't over yet. And what's this about an infiltrator in the midst of Met paradise? Jeff has the St. Lucie scoop from Friday.

When I talk about the “big league experience,” I mean everything here is big league. The grounds crew rakes and manicures the fields. The batting helmets are organized for us by size. The kitchen staff is feeding us like pros. Each meal has been excellent and I will miss it on Monday when I put a Lean Cuisine in the microwave for lunch.

After breakfast and a final lesson with Mickey Brantley (this guy knows so much about hitting — I can’t believe that he doesn’t have a major league job), we had our final morning meeting. We have apparently mastered the laundry loop, or it doesn’t matter anymore, because we didn’t receive any further instruction. John Stearns gave out the Brown Rope and Golden Rope awards for the day and I was nominated for both: brown for screwing up two fly balls in right and looking particularly bad in the process, and gold for my perfectly executed bunt that helped us win a game.

After stretching, it was onto the semis. I set a few modest goals for myself, and one was to get two hits. I had three going into the semifinal game but I wanted to know what it would be like to hit one hard and in my third AB, I did.

When you hit a ball on the screws, it makes a very loud sound...loud and glorious. It was an RBI double that helped us defeat Kevin Baez’s team and move onto the finals. I wish it happened more than once.

Stearns said that it was one of the best championship games in camp history. Sadly, the final was very Metlike for us as Millan’s Nine Lives scored four in the bottom of the seventh to win 7-6. The guys on our team were great and it has been a pleasure meeting them and playing ball with them. The coaches really got into it to; the game even featured a mild argument (in Spanish) between Felix Millan and Willie Montañez.

As I’ve mentioned, many of the guys came with friends. There are some fathers and sons, some brothers, some cousins and some guys whose wives and kids are hanging around, but most guys are on their own. Yet, it doesn’t matter because after a day, you become friends with your teammates and the guys around your locker. There is great camaraderie in camp. However, sadly, I must report, that there is one guy who has upset many of us. He’s not a bad guy, and he’s a good ballplayer, but he’s a fan of the MFYs (you know, the other team in New York). He’s part of a group of ten pals and the word has gone around camp about this guy. I would never-EVER wear an MFY uniform but this guy is wearing a Mets uniform…and to make it worse, he’s wearing 9, not in honor of J.C. Martin but for Graig Nettles.

To respond to two comments:

1) Sorry, but I can’t break the sanctity of Kangaroo Court. I will tell you that you shouldn’t be talking to your wife when it’s your turn at bat.

2) To the poster who asked where my “boo-boo” is from being hit by a pitch, it’s on my left bicep which is massive so it didn’t hurt. However, a black and blue mark has appeared which I am wearing as a badge of honor.

Friday night was the closing banquet. We mingled with the coaches and got autographs and pictures. They were friendly and accommodating and it was fun talking with them one last time. Even though we’re almost finished, they continue to be regular guys. Randy Niemann seemed very psyched to be with the Mets staff this season. Awards were given out to the championship team and individual awards were given out as well for various categories, including the Cleon Jones Award for highest average and the Gary Carter Award for best defensive catcher.

Tomorrow is the big day as the campers play the pros at Tradition Field. Pete Schourek and Anthony Young are two of the pitchers. I’m told that if you want one of the pro pitchers to show you what it’s like to face a major league fastball, you tell them to “bring the s**t.”

We’ll see.