Of the 25 fine reasons to read Game Of My Life: New York Mets [1], perhaps the one that comes out of the farthest reaches of left field is the best. That’s the chapter author Michael Garry devotes to Eric Hillman [2].
Eric Hillman you probably remember if you were an active Mets fan between 1992 and 1994. The “game of his life” — a Sunday afternoon shutout at Dodger Stadium — you would need a very good reason to specifically recall. But Hillman was a Met for three years when the Mets weren’t very good, he beat L.A. when he was completely on, and thus it makes for an element worth telling within the larger Met story. Hillman is a character worth revisiting, especially when you learn, via Garry’s reporting, what the rest of his life’s been like, particularly a moment when he reconnected with a fan from his playing days.
[3]You don’t have to be a David Wright to have a great Mets story to tell.
I won’t tell you what happened, but it’s a beautiful coda to the career of a Met you likely haven’t thought of lately. Game Of My Life has episodes like those sprinkled throughout, catching you up on an eclectic array of 25 Mets who laid down their historical markers between the 1960s and the 2010s. I’m guessing Garry’s publisher probably pushed him to pursue the biggest names possible (in his introduction he describes in detail who he went after and how his success rate varied), but the real treat lies within the chance to check in on Eric Hillman’s good day at Dodger Stadium; Anthony Young [4] before he became known for an almost endless string of losses; Al Jackson [5], who keeps on instructing Met youngsters more than a half-century after he was one himself; and a few more guys you might or might not expect to read up on in a volume like this.
Garry gives us time with 1969 World Series Game Two hero Ed Charles [6], who we know never disappoints [7] in his recollections. He drops in on Wally Backman [8], who takes us back to the day the Mets wouldn’t leave the Astrodome until 16 innings of heartstopping, pulsating baseball resulted in a New York pennant. He provides Bobby Jones [9] an opportunity to piece together his clinching one-hitter from the 2000 NLDS. He shows us that not every “game of my life” is obvious when Daniel Murphy [10] skips the opportunity to emphasize himself and prefers to retrace the final Saturday at Shea, Johan Santana [11]’s breathtaking three-hitter to keep the 2008 Mets mathematically alive, the last time (until now, we hope) Daniel played for a contender. Murph doesn’t know it, but in doing so he echoes Buddy Harrelson, who chooses the day the Mets won it in all against the Orioles as the game of his life, even though Harrelson wasn’t one of the stars of glorious Game Five.
The book hits every era of plenty in Mets history and several of the eras of less-so. Each of the 25 players profiled (most of whom sat and talked to Garry, though a handful of chapters had to be cobbled from outside accounts) is given a respectful hearing and adds something to the overall theme. Our narrator presents himself as a lifelong Mets fan [12] and gives the proceedings a light, loving touch.
We recently spent eleven consecutive games celebrating our ongoing affection for the Mets. Regardless of how often we’ll get to do that on a going basis for the rest of this season, Game Of My Life [1] will give you plenty of cause to celebrate your fandom all over again