We interrupt this Carlos Zambrano-Tom Glavine pitchers’ duel to bring you the following bulletin:
Fonzie’s home [1].
Almost.
It’s just a minor league deal. It may very well amount to little more than an organizational favor to someone who still has family working as a coach in the minors. There’s no obvious spot on a first-place roster for a diminished Giant, a wingless Angel, a grounded Jay, a Bluefish out of water.
But we can always use one of the greatest Mets ever.
Here’s a flashback for your Saturday. Think back to 1986 when Lee Mazzilli was brought back from the distant past. Mazz couldn’t stick with the cellar-dwelling Pirates but did manage to find a role — key pinch-hitter delivering crucial pinch-hits — on the eventual world champion Mets, the same franchise he starred for when there was little else glittery about them.
That’s not Edgardo Alfonzo’s backstory. The last time there were meaningful Septembers and full Octobers on this team’s calendar, it was as much because of Fonzie as anybody else in blue and orange. From 1997 through 2000, Fonzie was arguably the Mets’ most valuable player. He was at the vanguard of the resurrection, preceding Piazza, outlasting Olerud. I don’t need to jury-rig the parameters, though. Edgardo Alfonzo’s value from then needs no explanation. His greatness in terms of Mets history [2] should be within the common grasp of easy recall.
Now? Who knows? He hit for some average in San Francisco, but his power dwindled to practically nil. His infield range wasn’t much more expansive. But I never heard that Edgardo Alfonzo stopped being smart and stopped being wise. I hope that the 25-man roster as currently composed remains airtight and proves completely healthy. But if, uh, you know, there’s an opening for a familiar face who’s always understood how to play baseball, it’s good to know he’s on the company payroll once again.
Edgardo Alfonzo, Norfolk Tide, one step removed from being Edgardo Alfonzo, New York Met. I do believe there’s a rain delay behind my glasses.