I’m tempted to label this is a limited-time offer, SO ACT NOW, but actually, it’s an offer not limited by time. If it was, then it couldn’t be offered. But I’m gonna offer it.
You get to pick another Mets world championship for your collection. The catch is you have to pick it from the past, and you can choose only from the five seasons when they came close to being world champions — the five seasons when they went to the playoffs but didn’t go all the way.
On your say-so, they do go all the way. On your say-so, the Mets will have three world championships: 1969, 1986 and…
…that’s the question. Which one do you add to the wall, to the trophy case, to the flagpoles, to the media guide, to the family album? Which one, if you had to do it all over again — and by the parameters of this exercise, you do — would you pluck from the dustbin of disappointment and elevate to exalted?
Which retroactive world championship changes the course of Metropolitan events for not just the better but the best by your reckoning? Which one changes your life as a Mets fan for the best? What’s the one you’ve always wanted inverted? And why that one as opposed to the other ones?
Just to be clear, none of this dislodges 1969 or 1986. Everything you know about those two championship seasons stays exactly as is. It’s just that they now have a brother. And none of this necessarily affects 2014 and beyond. You don’t get to apply the third world championship to a future date. The Mets can still win another as soon as possible, but when they do, it will be their fourth.
Can’t help you with when that will be. I don’t do future.
You’re welcome to your ripple effect in that you can speculate as to how the Mets winning in this other year altered history, that perhaps winning that one time led to a string of successes…or somehow backfired and brought on dark times. Or you could decide that everything is as it’s always been…except now instead of the franchise narrative reading, “The Mets won the World Series twice,” it will be thrice.
The other rule is we deal in the relatively knowable. Everything that brought the Mets to the postseason series in question is as it was. If the Mets played a specific team in a particular World Series, that’s the team they retroactively defeat now. If the Mets played a specific team in a particular NLCS, that’s the team they retroactively defeat now — and then they go on to defeat the American League team that would’ve been waiting for them in the World Series that followed.
And to be clear, you have to choose. You can have only ONE historical do-over of this nature. Call it a Soler’s Choice.
Here are your Metropolitan candidates for cosmic reconstructive surgery.
1973
Instead of the Mets losing to the A’s in seven games, the Mets beat the A’s in the 1973 World Series. It could’ve very easily happened. In reality, all the Mets needed was one more win.
Maybe the ninth-inning rally that produced one run in Game Seven kept going and the Mets stormed from behind to upset the defending champions. Maybe Willie Mays came off the bench to hit for Wayne Garrett, tied the game with a three-run homer, it went to extras and Tug McGraw finished off the A’s one final time. Maybe the Mets led the whole way and Jon Matlack came out of the bullpen to relieve a tiring Tom Seaver in the bottom of the ninth after George Stone couldn’t quite close the deal the day before. Or maybe George Stone got the ball in Game Six and lived up to his 12-3 success of the regular season. Maybe Felix Millan got his glove down in Game One and Don Hahn found the warning track in Game Three and the Mets swept.
Doesn’t matter how they did it. The point is the Mets did it. The Mets won the 1973 World Series. What does it mean?
It means there is no “George Stone” decision to regret for 40 years and counting. It means Willie Mays went out on top and nobody much remembers that he fell down in center field in Game Two. It means a pair of World Series rings for Tom Seaver, Cleon Jones, Ed Kranepool and a whole bunch of 1969 & 1973 Mets. It means a championship for Rusty Staub, possibly (based on existing evidence) the World Series MVP award, maybe enough of a rise in his historical profile to merit him receiving serious Hall of Fame consideration.
It means 1969 and 1973 are a fully accredited tandem. It means nobody outside Metsopotamia doesn’t know “You Gotta Believe” isn’t a Mets thing. It means that whatever Tug does or doesn’t do for the Phillies down the road, he is primarily associated with the Mets, the team for whom he won two world championships. It means that when 2013 rolls around, the Mets don’t think about not reconvening the World Champion 1973 Mets so the fans give them the standing ovation they deserve.
It means there is no Oakland A’s dynasty as such. It means, perhaps, that Reggie Jackson enters free agentry as a less transcendent figure and perhaps doesn’t attract quite as much attention on the open market. Perhaps because he is not so glittering a star he signs with San Diego or Montreal (two teams with whom he negotiated in the fall of 1976). It means, maybe, that Catfish Hunter is a slightly less desirable commodity in 1974 when he suddenly becomes a free agent. It means, one could suppose, that the Yankees don’t necessarily sign either Jackson or Hunter and their position in New York in the late 1970s is altered.
Does it mean the Mets, winners of two world championships in five years, are differently positioned for the seasons after 1973? Do the defending world champion Mets upgrade for 1974 instead of proceeding with essentially the same cast of characters? Is Yogi Berra given more slack in 1975 because he managed the Mets to a world championship in 1973? Is Yogi still the manager by 1977? Does winning those two World Series change Seaver’s attitude toward remaining a Met? Are the Mets bigger spenders by then because they’ve continued their tradition of success?
And you — if you were around in 1973, would erasing the loss and replacing it with a win have meant everything? Would it have continued to mean everything? Would your life as a Mets fan be substantially better if you could point back to the 1973 world champion Mets? The pain you knew and have carried around with you from coming so close would be, now and forever, unadulterated pleasure. And if you weren’t around, based on everything you know, you’ve read and you’ve thought about, would you love more than anything to have the Mets have been world champions in 1969, 1973 and 1986?
How great would it be to have that one back and have it turn out right this time?
1988
Instead of the Mets losing to the Dodgers in seven games, the Mets beat the Dodgers in the 1988 National League Championship Series and then went on to defeat the A’s in the 1988 World Series. It could’ve very easily happened. In reality, all the Mets needed were five more wins.
Maybe the Mets get the best of Orel Hershiser while Ron Darling pitches a gem in Game Seven. Or buoyed by Dwight Gooden’s first career relief appearance, the Mets begin to peck away at Hershiser en route to pulling off a dramatic 7-6 comeback victory that sends them to the pennant. Or maybe it never goes seven. Maybe David Cone doesn’t sign up for a ghosted column in the Daily News and Bob Klapisch doesn’t attribute quotes about Jay Howell looking like a high school pitcher to him and Tommy Lasorda doesn’t fire up his players with such bulletin board material and the Mets leave Dodger Stadium with a 2-0 series lead. Maybe Gregg Jefferies doesn’t get hit by a batted ball while on the basepaths in Game Five.
Maybe Gooden doesn’t walk John Shelby to lead off the ninth inning of Game Four. Maybe when he does, Davey Johnson emerges from the dugout and signals with his left arm to the right field bullpen to bring in Randy Myers, whom Johnson had the foresight to have warming up entering the ninth. Or Myers started the ninth, retired Shelby and then the next batter, Mike Scioscia. Maybe Myers gets one more out besides and the Mets are on their way to dismantling the Dodgers, setting up the clash of the titans everybody anticipates against the A’s.
Doesn’t matter how they did it. The point is the Mets did it. The Mets won the 1988 World Series. What does it mean?
It means there is no “Mike Scioscia” in the Mets vernacular. It means there is no blanket dismissal of the late-’80s Mets as a dynasty that never happened. It means there are two world championships in three seasons. It means a pair of World Series rings for Gary Carter, Sid Fernandez, Mookie Wilson and a whole bunch of 1986 & 1988 Mets. It means Mackey Sasser and Kevin McReynolds, among others, are forever world champion Mets. It means Keith Hernandez and Ron Darling have an entirely different set of stories to tell as Met announcers two decades hence.
It means a comparison and contrast between 1986 and 1988 for years to come — which world championship team was better? Which ticker-tape parade was attended by more people? It means a reflexive roar goes up at Shea and later Citi when 1988 highlights are shown on the video screen. It means that in 2008, a day would’ve been set aside for the 20th anniversary celebration of the 1988 world champion Mets. It means that nearly every reference to the Mets of this era is accompanied by the phrase, “the team of the ’80s”.
It means Mike Scioscia is a vaguely recalled catcher from way back when. It means Kirk Gibson was that guy from the Tigers, wasn’t he? It means that for all of Tommy Lasorda’s bluster, he only won one World Series. It means Orel Hershiser had that sensational scoreless innings streak at the end of the 1988 regular season, but remember how he couldn’t stop the Mets when it mattered? (He was asked in 1999 about what it was like to join the team that broke his heart eleven Octobers earlier and he didn’t want to talk about it.)
Does it mean the Dodgers don’t hold quite the same attraction for free agent Darryl Strawberry in 1990 and the two-time world champion thus realizes he’s better off staying put in New York? Does it mean the Mets are more patient in 1989 and don’t trade Lenny Dykstra? Does Davey Johnson’s masterful managerial job from October 1988, when he outfoxed both Lasorda and Tony LaRussa, convince Frank Cashen once and for all that Davey deserves every benefit of the doubt going forward, even if there’s a rocky stretch now and then? Is Cone, who was such a big part of the world championship pitching staff of 1988, considered too valuable to deal away at the 1992 trading deadline? Do the Mets of 1989 and beyond, perhaps righted toward perennial contention, present Gooden with a more stable professional setting and curb his addictive tendencies? Do Gooden, Strawberry and Cone play out their careers as Mets and thus never wind up Yankees who, in turn, never quite put together all the pieces in 1996? Do Gooden and Cone pitch their no-hitters for the Mets?
And you — if you were around in 1988, would erasing the loss and replacing it with a win have meant everything? Would it have continued to mean everything? Would your life as a Mets fan be substantially better if you could point back to the 1988 world champion Mets? The pain you knew and have carried around with you from coming so close would be, now and forever, unadulterated pleasure. And if you weren’t around, based on everything you know, you’ve read and you’ve thought about, would you love more than anything to have the Mets have been world champions in 1969, 1986 and 1988?
How great would it be to have that one back and have it turn out right this time?
1999
Instead of the Mets losing to the Braves in six games, the Mets beat the Braves in the 1999 National League Championship Series and then went on to defeat the Yankees in the 1999 World Series. It could’ve very easily happened. In reality, all the Mets needed were six more wins.
Maybe Al Leiter pitches another game of his life on three days rest in Game Six, setting up Rick Reed for a triumph in Game Seven. Or after the Mets have fought valiantly back in Game Six, John Franco holds an 8-7 lead in the eighth, setting up Armando Benitez to save it in the ninth. Or Benitez preserves a 9-8 lead in the tenth to ensure Game Seven. Or Kenny Rogers works out of trouble in the eleventh, leading to a twelfth-inning or later Met victory. Then comes a Mets win in the seventh game, the National League pennant and a truckload of momentum that the Mets take back to Shea to start the 1999 World Series, momentum that carries through to a third world championship, the Mets’ first since 1986. Or the Mets won one, some, or all of the close games that started the NLCS and had an easy time with the Braves before taking care of the Yanks.
Doesn’t matter how they did it. The point is the Mets did it. The Mets won the 1999 World Series. What does it mean?
It means “Kenny Rogers” is that pitcher we picked up down the stretch drive who really solidified the staff. It means the Grand Slam Single isn’t a piece of team trivia but a hit that is instantly recognized by all baseball fans. It means Robin Ventura and Todd Pratt go on the MLB Network to recall their exploits in what are automatically considered two of the greatest games ever played…there’s probably an entire evening set aside to explore the 1999 Mets postseason. It means the game of hearts in which Rickey Henderson and Bobby Bonilla engaged during the sixth game at Turner Field becomes a charming anecdote in the tapestry of “it was just meant to be” 1999 recollections. It means Mike Piazza, Edgardo Alfonzo and John Franco have World Series rings. It means a career-defining achievement for someone like Turk Wendell, who becomes a transcendent Met folk hero on the order of Al Weis and Lenny Dykstra. It means Bobby Valentine joins Gil Hodges and Davey Johnson as Mets managers who won the World Series.
It means a ticker-tape parade that honors the Mets for the first time in thirteen years. It means Piazza is on the cover of every magazine from the last out of the World Series to the beginning of the new millennium. It means that when the Mets open the season in Japan in 2000, they are an international sensation. It means the New York Mets are the flagship team of baseball. It means the rush from behind in the Wild Card race to the championship of the world guarantees the 1999 Mets is embroidered securely into the Met narrative for eternity, that when 2009 rolls around, the Mets have to figure out how to best schedule their commemorations of the 40th anniversary of the 1969 world champion Mets and the 10th anniversary of the 1999 world champion Mets. It means, given the vagaries of how we view numbers, that the 1969 and 1999 Mets come up in conversation together all the time.
It means Turner Field is hallowed Met ground, because that’s where the Mets conquered the Braves in 1999. It means the Braves never made it back to a World Series after 1996. It means that the second team to win the World Series as a Wild Card reduced the long-term historical status of the Braves as perennial division champions even further. It means there was no late-’90s Yankee dynasty as such. It means the Yankees’ championships in 1996 and 1998 were overshadowed immediately, It means the Mets won the first Subway Series since 1956.
Does it mean the 1999 Mets were the beginning of a dynasty? Does it mean John Olerud couldn’t bear to leave, having been part of such a great team that was only going to get better? Does it mean that Ken Griffey couldn’t resist the trade the Mets had tentatively made to get him in the ensuing offseason and enthusiastically gave his approval? Does it mean the Mets boasted a lineup that included Piazza, Olerud and Griffey in the early 2000s? Does it mean the Mets didn’t trade for Mike Hampton and never attempted to replace Hampton with Kevin Appier and therefore couldn’t have traded Appier for Vaughn and there was no panicky winter devoted to securing big names who wouldn’t quite fit at Shea? Does it mean that Valentine, having beaten both the Braves and Yankees, earned the upper hand in his internal battles with Steve Phillips and wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time? Does it mean that the Mets, flush with World Series riches and a slew of new season-ticket subscribers, don’t care that they have to eat Bobby Bo’s contract and after giving him his World Series ring, they pay him what he is owed and never have to think about him again?
And you — if you were around in 1999, would erasing the loss and replacing it with a win have meant everything? Would it have continued to mean everything? Would your life as a Mets fan be substantially better if you could point back to the 1999 world champion Mets? The pain you knew and have carried around with you from coming so close would be, now and forever unadulterated pleasure. And if you weren’t around, based on everything you know, you’ve read and you’ve thought about, would you love more than anything to have the Mets have been world champions in 1969, 1986 and 1999?
How great would it be to have that one back and have it turn out right this time?
2000
Instead of the Mets losing to the Yankees in five games, the Mets beat the Yankees in the 2000 World Series. It could’ve very easily happened. In reality, all the Mets needed were three more wins.
Maybe Todd Zeile’s double to left in the sixth inning of Game One travels a few inches farther. Maybe Timo Perez runs hard all the way from first base. Maybe Todd Pratt breaks from third in the top of the ninth. Maybe Armando Benitez strikes out Paul O’Neill in the bottom of the ninth. Maybe Jose Vizcaino grounds out to end the twelfth. Maybe Roger Clemens is ejected in top of the first of Game Two. Maybe the Mets come all the way back on Mariano Rivera in that ninth inning. Maybe Mike Piazza gets to David Cone in Game Four. Maybe Al Leiter, who’s pitched like a Series MVP, comes out before his 142nd pitch of Game Five. Maybe Luis Sojo gets hit by a bus. Or maybe the 94-win Mets maintain their blistering pace of 12 wins in 14 games covering the end of the regular season and their playoff dismantling of the Giants and Cardinals and annihilate the 87-win Yankees who looked like no great shakes getting past the A’s in the ALDS and were in trouble early in the ALCS against the Mariners.
Doesn’t matter how they did it. The point is the Mets did it. The Mets won the 2000 World Series. What does it mean?
It means the Mets won the battle of New York. It means that in the long and glorious history of the New York Yankees, they have never beaten the New York Mets when it counted. It means the Mets got a ticker-tape parade in October 2000 and received keys to the city from a grin-and-bear-it Rudy Giuliani. It means that every Yankees fan you knew had to suck up whatever you said in the wake of your team beating their team in the World Series. It means the Yankees may have beaten the Giants and the Dodgers long ago, but they couldn’t overcome the Mets in the only modern Subway Series. It means the Yankee bandwagon of the late ’90s was stopped dead in its tracks and that next sound you heard was the roar of the engine on the Met bandwagon.
It means “Timo Perez” is that sparkplug who sent the Mets on their way to their third world championship and that “Armando Benitez” is synonymous with saving the big games. It means John Franco has much the same historical cachet as Tug McGraw and Jesse Orosco. It means that one slugger like Mike Piazza, one paragon of everyday excellence like Edgardo Alfonzo and a pair of portsiding aces like Mike Hampton and Al Leiter were enough to form the foundation of a world champion. It means Benny Agbayani, Jay Payton and Mike Bordick were part of the plucky corps that captured the Mets their first Series in 14 years. It means that Bobby Valentine outmanaged Dusty Baker, Tony La Russa and Joe Torre all in the same postseason. It means a case can be made that the 2000 world championship was the Mets’ greatest yet because it required three rather than merely two postseason series wins. It means 2010 was brightened immensely when the Mets gathered the 2000 world champion Mets at Citi Field for the first of what figured to be many reunions of that team that remains every bit as beloved as 1969’s and 1986’s…maybe more so given whom they had to beat to prevail.
It means Roger Clemens goes down in Yankee history as something of a dud not really worth trading David Wells for. It means that the Yankees, for all their money, aren’t necessarily the brightest option for free agent Mike Mussina. It means that for all their achievement to date, the Jeters, Williamses and Riveras could never truly own New York — at least not when they faced the Mets in the World Series. It means Torre has to tip his cap to Valentine. It means George Steinbrenner either doesn’t live another 10 years because he physically can’t bear to or he never lives down this defeat at the hands of the Mets in the 2000 World Series.
Does it mean Mike Piazza, world champion, is enough of a presence in baseball history to transcend all doubts and make the Hall of Fame within his first two years on the ballot? Does it mean nobody has to ask what cap Piazza wears on his plaque in Cooperstown when he’s inducted no later than 2014? Does it mean 31 is retired by the Mets? Does it mean Fonzie becomes the best player to have played his entire career as a Met when he retired, never having left the organization? Does their status as defending world champions in 2001 mean Valentine and the Mets throwing themselves into post-9/11 relief efforts was recognized as more than a footnote on that unfortunate page of municipal history? Do the 2001 Mets retain the services of Mike Hampton? Does it mean they and Alex Rodriguez couldn’t resist each other after 2000? And does it mean that the Mets, doing so well on and off the field, signed both A-Rod and Mussina? Does the Mets winning a world championship in black, orange and blue mean a permanent tri-color scheme because so many fans associate it with the franchise’s success? Did the Mets of 2001 dig deep into their winning experience and return to the playoffs? Did that run of success mean a firmer footing for when they were ready to promote young Jose Reyes and David Wright a couple of years later? Does it mean that they were managed in their salad days by Edgardo Alfonzo, who took over the job in a smooth transition of power when Bobby V was promoted to GM?
And you — if you were around in 2000, would erasing the loss and replacing it with a win have meant everything? Would it have continued to mean everything? Would your life as a Mets fan be substantially better if you could point back to the 2000 world champion Mets? The pain you knew and have carried around with you from coming so close would be, now and forever, unadulterated pleasure. And if you weren’t around, based on everything you know, you’ve read and you’ve thought about, would you love more than anything to have the Mets have been world champions in 1969, 1986 and 2000?
How great would it be to have that one back and have it turn out right this time?
2006
Instead of the Mets losing to the Cardinals in seven games, the Mets beat the Cardinals in the 2006 National League Championship Series and then went on to defeat the Tigers in the 2006 World Series. It could’ve very easily happened. In reality, all the Mets needed were five more wins.
Maybe Carlos Beltran fought off Adam Wainwright’s curveball and eventually walked to make it 3-2 in the bottom of the ninth of the seventh game and Carlos Delgado drove in the tying and winning runs. Maybe Aaron Heilman didn’t give up a home run to Yadier Molina in the top of the ninth. Maybe Jose Valentin and Endy Chavez delivered hits with the bases loaded in the bottom of the sixth. Maybe the Mets put more than one run on the board against Jeff Suppan in the first. Maybe the Game Seven victory over the Cardinals was all the Mets needed to propel them to a beatdown of the Tigers. Or maybe a seventh game was never necessary because Guillermo Mota and Billy Wagner held off the Cardinals in Game Two. Maybe Steve Trachsel didn’t fall apart in his final Met start in Game Three.
Doesn’t matter how they did it. The point is the Mets did it. The Mets won the 2006 World Series. What does it mean?
Adam Rubin shared this just-in-case proof of the back page of the October 20, 2006, edition of the Daily News last week, evidence of how close alternate history came to being actual history.
It means there is no “Beltran taking strike three,” and Carlos’s will to win is never seriously questioned. It means David Wright and Jose Reyes are world champions before either of them is 24 years old. It means Omar Minaya and Willie Randolph are confirmed as saviors and geniuses. It means Fred and Jeff Wilpon have led the Mets to the promised land without Nelson Doubleday. It means Billy Wagner, Paul Lo Duca and Carlos Delgado go down in Met history as the best trio of veteran acquisitions the Mets ever made in one offseason. It means there are no emotional qualifiers to apply to Endy Chavez’s catch. It means Oliver Perez and John Maine came out of nowhere to win World Series rings as Mets. It means Julio Franco emerged as a candidate for AARP’s person of the year. It means T#m Gl@v!ne never had to have his name typographically changed.
It means “2006” is in the conversation with “1969” and “1986,” and that 1986 and 2006 can’t help be linked as seasons when the Mets stood head and shoulders above the rest of baseball for seven Amazin’ months. It means that come 2016 you’re expecting some sort of dual celebration, maybe with appropriate pairs of world champion teammates — Delgado and Keith Hernandez, Wagner and Jesse Orosco — being introduced together. It means that a 20-year world championship drought was snapped. It means fans born in the 1980s and 1990s have a championship to savor. It means the dynasty talk heats up in earnest in Flushing. It means the “Jose-Jose-Jose!” song is sung on the steps of City Hall. It means the Mets are held up by Mayor Bloomberg as an example of the best New York can be. It means the Mets own New York as they haven’t for a generation. It means that as of 2014, only Mets fans under the age of 15 haven’t had a reasonable chance of fully experiencing a world championship in their lifetimes. It means that as of this moment, the Mets have gone no more than eight years since winning a World Series.
It means Tony La Russa has lost to the Mets twice in a pair of postseason showdowns. It means Yadier Molina is no more than an impressive defensive catcher. It means beating a team with Albert Pujols in the middle of its lineup wasn’t really that hard. It means baseball’s supposedly model franchise is looking at a quarter-century without having won the big one and that the “best fans in baseball” would have to dig deep to paint a big red smile over their bruised feelings. It means Jim Leyland has been avenged after he triumphed over the Mets as manager of the Pirates and Marlins. It means sticking it to Kenny Rogers in the World Series seven years after Kenny Rogers threw ball four to Andruw Jones.
Does it mean that the Mets find the wherewithal to repeat in 2007? Does it mean the Mets leave Shea Stadium on an indisputable high note in 2008? Does it mean Minaya and Randolph are forgiven their transient mistakes because these are the guys who won a World Series in just two years’ time? Does it mean Citi Field is the happiest place on earth in 2009 because it’s home of the Mets who are still at or near the top of their sport? Does it mean, somehow, that the entanglement that ensnares the Mets within the web woven by Bernie Madoff is somehow easier to slip out of? Does it mean Jose Reyes endures in a Mets uniform? Does it mean Carlos Beltran never leaves the franchise where he is embraced for having been the best player on the team that won it all? Does it mean that because perhaps there isn’t the same urgency to bolster the rotation after 2007 that the Mets never trade for Johan Santana and that after 52 seasons the Mets still don’t have a no-hitter? Does it mean that though the Mets might’ve been a joke for a couple of years early in the century that for the most part since the late 1990s they’ve been one of the best teams in baseball?
And you — if you were around in 2006, would erasing the loss and replacing it with a win have meant everything? Would it have continued to mean everything? Would your life as a Mets fan be substantially better if you could point back to the 2006 world champion Mets? The pain you knew and have carried around with you from coming so close would be, now and forever, unadulterated pleasure. And if you weren’t around, based on everything you know, you’ve read and you’ve thought about, would you love more than anything to have the Mets have been world champions in 1969, 1986 and 2006?
How great would it be to have that one back and have it turn out right this time?
***
There you have them:
• 1973 World Champion New York Mets
• 1988 World Champion New York Mets
• 1999 World Champion New York Mets
• 2000 World Champion New York Mets
• 2006 World Champion New York Mets
Choose one.
I’m gonna say 1999. That team was so good. Maybe the perspective of the Mets as champions and the Yankees as losers alters the offseason philosophy enough so that it leads to a Mets loss to Seattle in 2000 instead. Maybe John Olerud sticks around more. Maybe we get Bobby Valentine longer, because he gets a longer leash for having won a title.
2000. Can’t imagine anything being better than beating the Yankees in the W.S.
Ditto on ’00. All this would be worth if they’d won against Satan’s nine, or if I could know that they’d one day right that wrong.
2006, if only for the symmetry.
1999
I don’t see how you can pick anything except 1988. That team was better than any of the others, they had already won once, and they should have won the NLCS, if not the whole enchilada.
Wow……all of them tough choices for different reasons. I’ll go with 2000……beating the Yankees in the World Series would have been the best.
This is painful. To choose. And brilliant. Only Greg Prince could write a column like this. But I’ll take 1973.
I would choose 2006 because they would have had a good chance of bringing back the same guys the next year and repeating
2006. If only to erase Beltran’s strikeout against Wainwright. To me, the most painful, deflating moment in Mets postseason history.
While it was a killer, why do we give so much grief to Beltran? We don’t get there without him and that was a killer curve ball. On a 3-2 pitch there are not too many hitters not looking for a fast ball and when that perfect curve comes in, I don’t know of many HOF’ers that wouldn’t have been buckled on that.
It’s really tempting to go with beating the Yankees in 2000, but, as an eternal pessimist, I worry about the Law of Unintended Consequences. If, for instance, Mike Hampton sticks around… well, those great Colorado schools would perhaps suffer from the lack of Hampton kids, but the Mets would also not get the compensatory draft pick from losing him that netted them David Wright.
So I’m going with 2006. Because out of all the unfairly scapegoated individuals in Mets history, Carlos Beltran is my #1 pick for “deserved better”. And, more importantly, any Unintended Consequences certainly won’t make the following years noticeably worse.
I have been a fan for 50 years. 1988 was brutal and I still have emotional scars from 2000 ( need I say that I live in yankee country) but i have to vote for 2006. I understand how good Beltran was for us but i will never be able to erase that strikeout from my mind. Absolutely devastating.
i would clearly pick 2007 if i could pick any season, but given the limitations, 2006. i think this franchise is vastly different right now less than a decade removed from a title.
We don’t bring up 2000 in this house. ’88 hurt the most as IMO the Mets were the class of the NL that year and a WS appearance seemed so inevitable. 2006 was a close second.
2006 for my 13 year old son.
1988 for my brother.
1999 for the Bellerose Boys who I watched every game with.
2000 for all that’s right with the world.
1973 for me.
I’ll pick 1973…Wilpons should not be associated with a second title until they earn it, which will probably be never. Rusty should have one.
1999. That was a great team, one of my all-time favorite Met teams.
A close second is 2000 mainly because of the Roger Clemens bat-throwing incident. I agree Clemens would have gone down as a thug and a dud and the Yankees would never have had the three-peat that’s given them a stranglehold on baseball in this town to this day.
The Met teams of that era never got the credit they deserved.
Another thing, extending the pool of possible WS victories. What if the wild card had been instituted in the ’80’s rather than the ’90’s? Then ’85, ’87, and possibly ’84 are also in play. How great would it have been, for instance, for the Mets to have gone from last in ’83 to champs in ’84? Perhaps with a string of postseason appearances, they could have made more hay from the amazing team they had back then. We’ll never know.
Don’t think they could have won in ’84…but adding Carter in ’85 and having Doc at his best, they could have won that year. Rusty was on that team also and Ed Lynch.
Wow, what a great, terrible, excruciating choice. I was 8 years old in 1973, but even then I realized that team was overachieving. I also didn’t understand just how tough it was to make it to the postseason. The 2000 Mets were BETTER than that particular Yankee team, but… Benitez. And I believe that Piazza restrained himself, thinking strategically that Fatty would be justifiably ejected for throwing the bat, forgetting that stuff never happens to the Yankees (see: Maier, Jeffrey). But our best guy seemed to back down from their best guy, and suddenly, they were the Yankees and we were the Mets, and the Series was over right there.
1999 was a blast with inspiring, unforgettable moments. But even though the Braves eventually choked every year except 95, they never did it against us. Going into that NLCS, I thought we were a year away from a Series win.
We had the best record in the NL in 2006, but we were seriously shorthanded. Because of the injuries to Pedro, Duque and Floyd, I didn’t have the highest hopes and I thought they’d be back stronger in 2007. The ending hurt. Bad. The false portent of the Catch, the false rally… it was awful. I’m looking at the deep gouge in my basement bar where I smashed a barstool until I was just holding two broken sticks.
But 1988 was the best Mets team there ever was or ever will be. They had upgraded several positions since 86. The rotation was better. They didn’t win quite as many games as they did in 86, but they dominated the NL and the 1980-83 Islanders had already showed us the trick of dialing it down a bit during the long regular season, saving something for the playoffs. Maybe the Mets had recurring issues with the Cardinals, but once they made the playoffs, they were unbeatable. Even in the most dire October circumstance, they would always rally. Such was the false lesson of 1986. 1988 was the year the dynasty finally materialized. There was no way we were going to lose to the Dodgers, who had lost so many lopsided games to us during the season. Mets-A’s was going to pit the two best teams of a generation, but the Mets’ rotation was going to be the difference. I KNEW this. And a Mets Series victory would have cemented the Mets as permanent fixtures at the top of NY sports. They have never had so much at stake, and they never had so much reason to believe that THIS was the defining year for the franchise.
1988.
Also, regardless of how 2000 turned out, and no matter how much A-Rod may have wanted to play for the Mets, the organization was pretty clear that they weren’t interested, even if they expressed those feelings in their usual classy manner, by complaining about a-Rod’s personal life and fictional demands for an all-A-Rod souvenir kiosk, where the player would enjoy some of the proceeds. Steinbrenner has nothing on the Wilpons when it comes to sleazy whisper campaigns and “unidentfiable team sources” making unflattering statements about current or prospective players looking for a paycheck and/or job security. The REAL “one that got away” was Vlad, the best bad-ball hitter of all time, and an electric monster who baffled great pitchers and could have carried some of those post-2000 teams. But the Mets declared “thanks, but we’re good enough,” as they are wont to do following any degree of success since 1990, and adding A-Rod’s justifiably huge deal was never a possibility. Fortunately, that menatility and those crispy Denver schools let us say goodbye to Hampton before he fell apart.
Great reasons for 1988 and that was one the other one I was thinking of as well. It would have really cemented the greatness of the core from 1986 and historically placed that group in a much different light as winners of 2 World Series.
I said this on Twitter, but it bears repeating: I moved to St. Louis from New Jersey in April 2006. I was the only guy walking around here in Mets gear. That loss will haunt me for as long as I live here. They still show that Beltran AB a million times a year on TV here, even 8 years later. It rubbed salt in the wound even more when Beltran actually PLAYED for the Cardinals. Plus, I have to listen to these pretentious, “Cardinal Way,” “I’m better than you and I know it” Cardinals fans who enarly make you fall asleep when watching their games at Busch. I’d take that one back in a heartbeat.
Oh,, and one more thing: Don’t you think we’d still be talking about Endy’s catch if the Mets won the game? I’m 33 and that’s the geratest play of my lifetime, hands down.
While a strong argument can be made for each choice and even 40 years haven’t softened all of the sting from ’73, for me it’s 2000, hands down. And for all of Greg’s eloquent explanations and what-if dominos falling tied to that contingency, I could take the liberty of editing everything he wrote down to “Mets beat Yankees.” ‘Nuff said.
When the Mets lost in 1973, I couldn’t breathe for a week. I was 11 years old and the Mets were my world. How could anybody not see that Seaver on 4 days rest was a guaranteed victory? But that said, given the restrictions of this exercise, 1973 would not have altered too much in Met history. The Mets owned NY at that time anyway.
When I first started reading this post, I automatically pointed to 2000 since beating the Evil Ones makes everything right with the world. But by the end of the post, I saw that 1999 would really have been the one to get. First, we would get to beat that team from the Confederacy thereby changing the aura of that place they call a ballfield. And then, totally break up the dominance and 4 out of 5 titles that the Evil Ones amassed. Maybe even shaking things up enough to change the 2000 results as well. 1999 would have become the first Subway Series and the one to get. The ’99 team was a lot of fun to watch and a championship that year would have gone a long way toward restoring the Mets to their rightful place as NY’s team.
I agonized over this one. Like March’62, that’s when I was born and I distinctly remember crying over Sunday dinner as the Mets lost game 7. But I think if the Mets win in 2006, the collapses of 2007 & 08 never happen, 3 straight division titles happen and away we go…..
I like to think that winning in ’99 begets winning again in 2000. Both vs the Yankees. Quickly and decisively returning us to the top dog in town, the destination of choice for free agents. The fin de siecle Mets are remembered as one of the greatest dynasties of all time. Runaway financial success ensues, meaning the Wilpons aren’t dumb/desperate enough to fall for the Madoff scam. Mike Piazza is, as he should be, a first-ballot HoFer sporting a Mets cap. Yankee attendance and ratings plunge, Steinbrenner panics and trades Rivera and Jeter for, I dunno, Nomar, and the team moves to New Jersey and becomes an afterthought, the Padres of the East Coast. All is well.
I preface this by saying I’m only 24, so I have no recollection of ’73 or ’88. I’d have done anything to see them finish the deal in 2000. 2006 came to my mind first since it was the freshest wound and everything that happened after seems to flow so easily from that year. But it has to be 1999. If they had finished the job against Atlanta and then beat the Yankees (who, in my opinion, were better in ’99 than in ’98)? After that incredible, magical run and all of those ridiculously Amazin’ moments?? That goes down as the greatest championship run by any team in baseball history. AND that team was only getting better. So I’ll take my 1999 World Champion New York Mets, my first-ballot hall of famer and forever #31 Mike Piazza and run with it. And I’ll rest peacefully knowing my favorite player growing up, Mr. Alois Terry Leiter, never called a single game for the Yankees on YES.
1973 changes everything. The pain of all the other near-misses is quenched if Yogi does not mismanage his rotation for games 6 and 7. The Mets are forever cast as a good or decent team, and not the accidental champions of 1969 and 1986. And perhaps so many more championships would have followed, with fewer of the near-misses listed above. Without question, 1973.
Great article. I would vote for 2000, 2000 out of 2000 times. Think of how less stressful our lives would be. I can’t keep going to the Mlicki well.
Without question 2006. Sure I would have loved to see ’73, 88, 99 and 2000. But those losses helped make me into the fan I am today. I think having a chmpionship in recent years would remove much of the doom and gloom some Mets fans feel and the struggles the franchise has had in general.
I also really loved that team Jose Reyes, David Wright were so young, Beltran had a great year, Wagner proved to be a great closer and radical improvment over Braden Looper. Carlos Delgaaado was like Strawberry in the 80’s. So many great memories from that season – what about Endy Chavez’s catch! Wooo hooo! I so loved hat team. We dominated for really the second time in our history. I’ll take that do-over please!
1999 is my favorite team of all time, despite coming up short, so as much as I felt the Mets would win 8-straight after falling behind 0-3 that year–I can’t pick them. 2000 and 2006 still haunt me to the point where I don’t even want to celebrate them. I’d have to choose one of those two. (Plus, if I could have a runner-up for “Best-Down-0-3-Comeback Scenario”, it’s 2004.)
If we win in 2006, Willie doesn’t get second-guessed by the media for sending up Floyd and he doesn’t become an entirely different manager, meaning drastic changes in 2007 and 2008 (alas no No-han). BUT, come on, it’s 2000 for me.
Zeile’s drive isn’t swatted down by the hand of god in Game 1, Mets win. Clemens is ejected in Game 2 and Piazza gives the Mets the lead after taking Rivera deep. Armando pitches the 9th inning of Game 4 and the Yanks get only one, Piazza takes Rivera deep again to win the World Series in a sweep.
I’d STILL be smiling.
The rest of the decade would play out exactly the same, most likely. There’d still be a lot of hurt. But we’d have made up for 99’s shortcomings, and we’d have crushed the Yankees when it mattered. The inferiority complex that’s been nourished since 1996 would be drastically reduced, possibly done away with.
73′ Greg…No wildcard – just a wild season!! That delirious end, that 5 game playoff win!! Beating the A’s would have been glorious….
2000 was bitterly painful, obviously, because of them. I never pulled for an AL team like I pulled for Seattle that year and I’ve never forgiven them either. All that blathering about how a Subway Series was “good for NY” still makes me gag when I think about it. Such a fun season, all ruined by the ever-greedy, piggish, glory-hogging Empire. “I’m just happy a NY team will win it”….remember that? Blech. My best friend (another Mets lifer) and I used to debate what the worst possible thing that could happen to the Mets would be and “losing the WS to them, at Shea” always won out. And in actuality it was a thousand times worse than I ever imagined it’d be.
1999 was an awesome year, NLCS loss aside, although obviously getting to the Series would have been great. But losing two in a row to them would have possibly broken me.
2006: It hurt, but there was a general feeling of “uh-oh” after the break that year as the Mets became a tad lackluster in the second half, plus that pitching staff…you knew it was only a matter of time there.
Obviously a title in ’73 would have been fabulous, although I was a bit too young to fully grasp the gravity of it all. Still, no shame in losing to one of the great teams of modern times in seven games.
1988, though, that was a real blow. It wasn’t just that they lost to a clearly inferior (except for that series) team, it was HOW they lost. Soscia’s (I know it’s misspelled but I don’t care) wasn’t just a death blow to the Mets, it was the end of “dominant Doc” as well. If only Bobby O had waited until the season was over to trim those hedges, if only Coney had kept his trap shut, if only Keith and Gary didn’t suddenly get old….sigh.
The 1985 Mets were mentioned above and yes, I believe they were the second best team in MLB that year and, if they’d have had the chance to face the Cards in the playoffs, it would have been EPIC.
I am torn. Both 1973 and 1988 should have happened. But since I tend to stay away from things that are Wilpon-ic, anything in 1999, 2000 and especially 2006 are out. I like 1973 the best. Maybe the late 70s Mets malaise wouldn’t have happened if the 1973 Mets were WS champs. Willie Mays, on his knees, pleading.
The damned Wilpons made short shrift of 1973 this past season, the cheapskates. Should have been a full tribute with those Calfornia critters G.T. Seaver and Willie Howard Mays the stars, along with Le Grand Orange. With a Tim McGraw post-game concert.
So many great responses – I’d have to take either 99 or 2000… loved that team…the greatest IF, Olerud and Robin and of course the Monster outta the cage ….
For me, 1999 wasn’t the best choice, it was the only choice. Here’s how it happened: http://theballclub.blogspot.com/2014/02/30-days-in-october.html
I found this website Patheos blogs, and this guy wrote about revisionist 1873 world series that is in same spirit and thought I would share.
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/slacktivist/2013/01/23/you-gotta-believe-rewriting-1973-to-make-ourselves-happy/
I’ve gotta go with ’99, but only if the changing point is Game 6. Think about how celebrated the 2004 Red Sox have been, now picture the Mets beating them to the punch, only even better – Mets come back from 3 games to none deficit against division rival that has had their number for a decade, with 3 straight classic games (come from behind win in 8th inning in Game 4, Grand Slam single in Game 5, come back from 5 run first inning deficit to win in extras in Game 6), and then win however they wanted to in Game 7. Then, off to the first Subway Series in 43 years (Everyone voting for 2000 seems to forget that they would have gone through the Yankees in ’99 as well), and they beat the freaking Evil Empire, preventing them from becoming a dynasty.
That was my favorite Mets team, and it would have been amazing for them to win it all. Mike Piazza would already be in the Hall of Fame in a Mets hat, Edgardo Alfonzo would rightly be recognized as an all-time great Met (and would have at the very least been on the freaking HOF Ballot – what a snub that he was left off a few years ago). Even if 2000 played out exactly the same way, the sting of losing to the Yankees would be so much less if it was just them evening up the tally.
Ah, such delightful fantasies, all of them.
But you had me at Rusty Staub, series MVP, plus the serious Hall of Fame consideration he deserved.
’73 had that perfect combination of scrappy, high-spirited underdogs, with a foundation of amazing talent. Seaver, Koosman, Matlack, and Tug; Rusty, Cleon, Buddy, Felix Millan, and just-an-honor-to-be-on-the-field-with-him Willie Mays. Merely typing those names is a thrill. And after that roller-coaster playoff series against the Big Red Machine, to then wipe the A’s dynasty off the map? Such celebrations the baseball world has not seen since….well, we didn’t get to see it then either.
I might have picked ’85 if it had been offered. Probably my favorite season ever, definitely the closest and best-fought pennant race we’ve ever been in. I’m so glad the Wild Card *didn’t* exist back then, all-or-nothing produced a completely different sort of season-long intensity, between the two best teams in the major leagues.
1988 would have been a wonderful bonus, but we still have ’86. ’99/2000, we really didn’t have the horses to expect a ring. 2006 does still hurt, though, right in the kishkes.
I’ll start with reasons for the ones I didn’t pick. I can’t say 1973 because I wasn’t born yet. I can’t say 1999 because I still thought as good as we were the F’n Braves were better. 2000? I know we lost to the Yankees in the Series but we won a freaking National League pennant! Sorry, but you can’t take that away from me as a fan. Have we been to the Series since? I nearly went with 2006. I loved that team too, and I believed they’d win that year right up to Beltran’s at-bat against Rufus Wainright’s illegitimate child. To this day, I think Carlos should’ve swung at the first pitch, like he did. vs Izzy two months earlier. He probably would’ve singled to tie the game! The reason I almost said 2006? The subsequent seven years.
But the year I absolutely want for a do-over is 1988. We won 100 games and while there was some mediocrity at times, this team was dynamite when it really mattered. Taking 6 of 8 from the Pirates over two summer weekends when Pittsburgh smelled a division lead was the best example of the Mets being absolutely clutch; and they never looked back in regular season play after that. Anyway, I love Davey but I don’t think he watched the prior year’s World Series, when Tom Kelly took Frank Viola out after eight innings of Game 7 and Jeff Reardon (who started his career with us) closed out the Cardinals. Randy Myers may have been our most consistent closer ever. He was chomping at the bit to shut down the Dodgers on that Sunday night in October. But Davey stuck with Doc and the rest is infamy. Gary and Keith were on the way down that year but we had two MVP-caliber candidates and a pitching staff that would have taken down the Bash Brothers. The Mets of that era were not going to get another chance to be a champion again. Look what happened in ’89? Lenny, Mookie, McDowell, Gary, and Keith all gone by season’s end, Myers traded in offseason. Then 1990. The real last gasp of the era. When Darryl left to go home after that season, the wheels fell off and by 1993 the franchise hit rock bottom. So for me it’s 1988, followed by 2006, 1999, 2000, and 1973. Thanks Greg; good stuff as always.
There was a lot of mediocrity in 1988…they played July and August at 29-26…I remember a lot of criticism that summer. It took one of the most hated Mets (by the guys on the team) in history to wake the team up in Gregg Jefferies. It was not a fun summer.
You’re right Steve, I didn’t realize the record in those two months was that bad until I checked out retrosheet. I was only 13 that season so I guess I didn’t truly understand the frustration surrounding the fans and the team that year. Though I do remember the last weekend of July and first one in August quite vividly, which is when I thought they really won the NL East. Bobby O and El Sid pitched shutouts at Shea, with Elster homering in the 8th inning of the Friday game against John Smiley. Watching that night on Channel 9, it was the loudest Shea had been since the ’86 Series as Elster circled the bases and later came out for a curtain call. Pendleton game in reverse perhaps? That’s actually one of several 1988 games I wish SNY would air as a Mets Classic. Then the next weekend at Three Rivers, hamstring-addled Keith homers one night to win a game, they rally from 3-1 down the next night, then score 4 in the 9th on Sunday. (They lost 1-0 the next night to some guy named Rick Reed. Whatever became of him?)
Knowing now what I didn’t then, I still want a do-over about 1988, although that team could have been the 2007 Mets without that 20-6 September. Speaking of, I’m sure Greg has touched on this but I wonder if we could be asked which seasons we could toss in the wastebasket forever? My choices: 1992, 1993, 2002, 2007, 2009. I’m sure any of the late-70s teams would get votes too but I was too young to follow the Mets at the time.
Oh, forgot to add that two titles in three years would have cemented the late-80s Mets as an all-time great in the game, not just the best teams in franchise history.
this may be the best fafif column ever. certainly i’ve been waiting for days to have the time to savor all the possibilities and come up with a conclusion, however shaky.
and in the meantime all these terrific answers, each from another fan who has given the thought experiment its due.
i remember all of these. let’s not lose sight of the fact that the mets were ONE GAME AWAY in 1973. they flew west, up 3-2 and it seemed obvious they would get it done. play .500 ball, like they’d done all season, and they were champs. i had never had my baseball faith shaken like that before — yogi’s decision-making almost seemed like the move a yankee-in-mets-clothing might make.
1988 had a stench all its own. the mets had beaten the dodgers 10 of 11 games in the regular season. i ran into tommy lasorda in the lobby of the hotel he and the dodgers were staying at for the playoffs and told him that as much as we loved the brooklyn dodgers, that era was over, and this was the mets’ time. oh, the pain.
1999 and 2000 — the mets were heroic in both years, and piazza loomed largest. a friend recently said the worst day he’d had as a mets fan was being at the last game of the 2000 series and watching the yankee fans celebrate. i still shudder thinking about it.
and if the mets win in either of those years, the yankees lose their grip not just on baseball, but on the ethos of new york city. the town becomes a wee bit kinder, a tad more pleasant, the quality of life improves here every single day.
but…i gotta go with 2006. of all the vibrations we’re living with from each of these losses, the biggest bang is from a called strike three. beltran, the best center fielder the mets have ever had, the best free agent signing the team ever made, leaves under a cloud, instead of staying and being regarded in the club’s pantheon where he belongs.
and my son, now 16, would have at least one championship to sustain him in tough times. yes, if 2006 happens, then 2007 and 2008 probably resolve more favorably too. and we don’t have to remember the last day at shea as something tinged with such loss and memory that only poets can summon it.
it’s remarkable the club doesn’t have more than two series wins. because each in its own way, all these teams were champions.
I have to choose 1973, because my father would be alive to enjoy it with me, and because Ya Gotta Believe.
My choice would be a 2000 WS victory over the hated crosstown rivals, without hesitation or reservation. We would always have had that trophy to hold over the pointed little heads of their fans, regardless of the other 26 they hold.
Instead, as things unfolded, we heard their braying without end. So, the year 2000 has my vote.
Want a historical do-over? How about the Mets don’t trade Nolan Ryan for Jim Fregosi.
99′ and 2000 teams were nice to follow but benefitted from the wild card format- frankly the Braves were just flat out better! I never liked the 06′ team, the most forgettable of the division champ teams, I think….88′ was a crushing blow- regardless of the lousy finish, that team was a powerhouse (as was 87′)these two years were to be the dynasty!. You internet/wildcard generation guys are too young to know how wonderful 73′ was, or for that matter how the crowds cheered on that team- my God Shea was a tough place to come to for a big series!!
As I said before Greg 1973- you gotta believe!!!
2006 we were there and it was dejected group of leaving Shea that night- it would have been awesome I was with my son I have never heard Shea louder than when Endy caught that ball.
Brilliant Gregsian post. But it’s 2000. There really isn’t an argument. Mulipy the Mlicki game by a million and you have a starting off point.
This is a pretty easy choice for me. 2006 all the way. I grew up in NY and now live in NC. I was only 9 years old during 2000 and though I’ll never forget that, I wasn’t really old enough to truly grasp the magnitude of that series. 2006 however, still hurts…badly. I remember driving home with my dad from school the day of game seven and saying to my dad “if we win today, we’re going to the World Series” and I proceeded to pace around the house for the next several hours. After Endy’s catch I immediately got a phone call from a friend who knew how important it was to me and it was one of those moments where you felt like they just couldn’t lose after that. Obviously they did and the memory haunts me to this day and I’d probably give anything to get that one back. However, that season truly defined the fan that I am today.
Why any Mets fan would not choose 2000 above all other seasons is beyond me.
“It means the Yankee bandwagon of the late ’90s was stopped dead in its tracks” This line says it all.
If they beat the Yankees in that World Series it does two things:
1. Once and for all shut up all the incessant Yankees fans and their puffy-chested nonsense by always referring to the World Series they lost to the Mets.
2. See no. 1
You also have to realize that most of those Yankee fans know absolutely nothing about baseball and are bandwagon fans. If the Mets beat them, most of those fans would have their Met hats on the next day. You couldn’t find a Yankee fan in the 80’s.
2000. 99 would have been great but the loss in 2000 still hurts today.
99′
They were better than the Yankees and too to bottom they were a monster team. If Kenny Rogers was a man and didn’t WALk Andrew jones, we would have won that series and defeated the Yankees. they were a team of destiny.
1999 if only Griffey ends up a Met the off season afterwards. Yes, that means trading Fonzie but I get to see my all time favorite player in Griffey play for my favorite team.
[…] Giving the Mets Their Historical Do-Over » […]