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ABOUT US
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.
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Forever Murph
by Greg Prince on 4 August 2014 8:57 am Sunday marked 10 years since Bob Murphy’s passing. Though those who fill his role today do a fine job of it, Murph remains missed because how do you ever stop missing Bob Murphy? He is the voice of New York Mets baseball. Is, not was. Not long ago I heard a clip of him. I don’t remember if it was from a milestone game or just a random recording, but I warmed up all over. That was what Bob Murphy did for a Mets fan for 42 years. That’s what Bob Murphy does, even when instead of manning the broadcast booth, he’s on assignment in the historical archives and personal memory.
Thank you, Murph. You seemed uncomfortable when people mentioned how much you meant to them. I was about to say you shouldn’t have been, but if that’s what made you you, then I guess you knew what you were doing.
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Howie Rose did a wonderful tribute yesterday during the broadcast. I was in my car, had to pull over as something clearly was in my eye making me tear up.
Been away from posting due to vacation, getting sick, and spending the weekend focused on the other Giants with Strahan’s HOF induction Saturday and the preseason game last night.
I was living in Mariners country at this time 10 years ago. Listening to Dave Niehaus out there reminded me that there were great broadcasters not named Scully or Miller on the West Coast. It also reminded me that Murph had just retired a year before his passing. The reality is, when men of a certain age are still doing what they did when they were young, it’s because it keeps them alive. I’m not sure it’s a coincidence that Bob broadcast his last game in September 2003 and left this world 11 months later.
Murph meant everything to me as I did not have cable growing up. HIs general attitude toward the Mets, the game of baseball, and life are things I admire and have tried to emulate. He is missed every day by this fanbase in so many ways. I’m glad I got to hear all the great calls he made in ’86, especially the one where Orosco struck out Marty Barrett. For this then-12-year-old, a dream absolutely did come true. Thanks for being the soundtrack for that Murph and for being as good as you were. Ten years gone, but remembered forever.
Any chance that Howie’s memories are captured somewhere?
I’m sure Murph is looking down from his perch in those puffy, cumulus clouds.
https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5578/14818340974_6ca1e6630e.jpg
Nobody painted better pictures.
*tips cap to Bob
Yesterday, I was in the midst of a (non-critical, but still important to me) real-life situation, in which I felt I was down to my last out. Somehow, I thought of Murph’s eloquent description when the Mets were facing elimination in the last of the 10th inning of Game Six of the 1986 World Series…something like this…
“Everyone sitting very quietly now in the New York Mets’ dugout, hoping against hope that something will start to happen.”
…I consider how readily those words surfaced in my mind (not for the first time) a tribute to Murph, and the wonderful wordsmith and broadcaster that he was. Here’s to you, Murph!