The blog for Mets fans
who like to read

ABOUT US

Greg Prince and Jason Fry
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.

Got something to say? Leave a comment, or email us at faithandfear@gmail.com. (Sorry, but we have no interest in ads, sponsored content or guest posts.)

Need our RSS feed? It's here.

Visit our Facebook page, or drop by the personal pages for Greg and Jason.

Or follow us on Twitter: Here's Greg, and here's Jason.

The Second-to-Last Worthless Weekend

Man, today would have been such a good day for a spring-training game.

Gray, frozen, a yawning afternoon to fill up finding something to do

besides the things I should have been doing but knew I wouldn't do. A

great afternoon, in other words, for exulting over the sight of, say,

Victor Diaz catching a pop-up or the sound […]

Bad Lieutenant, Great Subplot

“Ah, memories, memories … and here we go again, back on the same old trip: digressions, tangents, crude flashbacks…”

Have you ever seen “The Bad Lieutenant”? It’s not about Matt Galante, but rather a corrupt in every sense of the world NYPD detective played by Harvey Keitel. Several years ago, Fred Bunz recommended it to me at […]

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Not a lot to say about our boys this morning — David Wright is today's

obligatory mass profile (nice kid, drinks milk, works hard), with the

occasional side trip to see how Matt Ginter's shave went. (Randolph

says Ginter now looks cute. Really.) Chris Woodward's wife of five

years has supposedly never seen him without facial hair, so if […]

Gimme a Met with Hair

My outer head needs a haircut and my inner child resists. It’s always been that way because when I was a kid, hair length was a big issue in the world at large and among ballplayers, especially the ones I admired. Tug McGraw and Jim Bouton wrote books about battles with the establishment, rightly scoffing […]

Try Not to Think of a Torborg … D'oh!

There can't be a historically minded person in Metland who didn't at

least cringe a little bit after reading Willie Randolph's rules for the

team: no beards (guy-in-the-pool-cleaning-van 'staches are OK), no

earrings on the field, 1 a.m. spring-training curfew, no booze on the

team bus or plane, etc.

Part of the hackle-rise is the reflexive little-brother rebellion

against all things […]

Hey Pal, I've Got Your Upgrade Right Here

Shawon Dunston — greatest late-season pickup in Mets history, all based on one at-bat (leading off the 15th of Game 5 vs. Atlanta), probably the greatest at-bat in Mets history, all due respect to Mookie. I think he was simply issued No. 12 and recognized it as having belonged to The Boz. That alone got him […]

The Willies

Spring training being spring training, the papers basically had two stories today — Mike Piazza Is Contented and Willie Randolph Is Not Art Howe. You're right — why on earth do they all write these things on the same day? If they're going to do that, why not just use a pool reporter?

Re Piazza, I […]

Who're Your Influences?

Tom Glavine said Andres Galarraga will be a great influence on the Latin players. Does anybody say Mike Piazza or Mike Cameron will be a great influence on the U.S.-born players? That Tom Glavine will set a great example for the white pitchers who walk around like they’ve got a bat shoved up their […]

Central Casting!

So Day 1 being Day 1, the papers gave us the view from the GM's chair, to be followed, as always, by Day 2 or 3's view from the manager's chair. Day 1 being Day 1 for me as well, it was time for my annual moment of being struck by how programmed spring training and spring-training coverage is. It's like […]

I Can See Carlos Now

It has to mean something that up here in the grimopolis that is February in New York, a nasty afternoon shower has given way to a rainbow outside my office window. Not a metaphorical — or even a METaphorical — rainbow, but an actual Judy Garland-lovin’ arch o’ stripes in the eastern sky.

If pitchers and […]