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 Summer of Smiles

The Mets lost, and their season is over.

Sean Manaea didn’t have his putaway stuff, Phil Maton looked gassed, and Kodai Senga turned in one good inning but not a second. Meanwhile, the hitters worked solid ABs and kept creating traffic, but couldn’t get the big hit they needed: They were 2 for 9 with runners […]

A Long Walk

With the Mets batting because they had to in the eighth inning of Thursday night’s game, I got out of my seat at Citi Field and took a walk.

The immediate reason was straightforward, but there were other reasons, too. My feet were cold. My legs were stiff. I was upset. And I knew that for […]

Three Times Yes

Eight pitches.

They were the first sign that Monday afternoon’s Game 2 might go better than Sunday’s steamrolling. Happily, they weren’t the last.

Leading off against Ryan Brasier, the first man in a parade of Dodger relievers, Francisco Lindor worked a 2-1 count, then fouled off four sliders and fastballs. Brasier, possibly a little frustrated to see […]

The Happiest of Madnesses

Here’s an unforgivable fan sin: “I don’t want them to clinch tonight because I have tickets for tomorrow and want to see it myself.”

I’ve heard that a time or two, and it’s all I can do to limit myself to pointed disagreement instead of reacting in a way that would get me taken away in […]

Learning to Embrace

There was a wonderful moment back in Atlanta, one that’s nearly been forgotten in all the joyful, exhausting tumult of what’s followed.

Steve Gelbs was interviewing Francisco Lindor, only Gelbs was drenched in alcohol and having trouble getting past the fact that his eyes were burning.

“You’re suffering!” said an even more drenched Lindor. “You’re not embracing! […]

Pete Alonso Will Not Go Quietly Into the Night

More than once this year, I’ve thought to myself that Pete Alonso would probably be more of a hitter if he were less of a teammate.

But Alonso isn’t capable of that. He cares about his teammates, about the only organization he’s ever known, and yes, about us lunatics in the stands. He wants to come […]

The Truth Is We're All Afraid

It was the ninth inning against the Phillies, 10 days ago, and ESPN’s little win probability thing (a sop to gamblers, but that’s another post) was making me insane.

It said the Phillies had an 8% chance of coming back to beat the Mets, which was obviously wrong. Obviously and deliberately and nefariously wrong. I didn’t […]

We're in Trouble

Yes, Ramon De Jesus’s umpire scorecard is going to be a thing to behold. (It’ll show up here if you want to torture yourself.) The most egregious missed call was, rather obviously, the ball four on Francisco Alvarez that was called strike three, turning a bases-loaded situation for the Mets into the end of an […]

Punched!

Fair warning that you’re not getting much of a recap. But then you didn’t get much of a game.

You’re not getting much of a recap because I want this game out of my brain as quickly as possible, and sulking about the outcome for an hour or three or six will neither help with that […]

And Down the Memory Hole This One Goes

The good news? The Braves lost. And the Mets were so bad so early against the Phillies that all involved — players and fans alike — essentially moved on even before the game was over, cramming it into the memory hole and hurrying away.

Emily and I were at Citi Field, sitting in the front of […]