The blog for Mets fans
who like to read
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.
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.
|
by Jason Fry on 26 April 2007 11:42 pm
Bedrock baseball wisdom is that you don't look ahead. Not to the next series, not to the next game, not to the next inning, not even to the next batter. You keep the focus on this play, this pitch, and the good lord willing, things will work out. (Thanks, Crash.)
That said, have you seen our […]
by Greg Prince on 26 April 2007 5:21 pm
Three of the cockiest icons in Mets history have each crossed the path of the Mets fan who's been paying attention these last 24 hours.
1) Pedro Martinez. Tells the AP he's gonna be back…back in the New York groove in the second half of this year and feel like he did when it was great […]
by Greg Prince on 25 April 2007 10:33 pm
Oh that baseball, it is a funny game. One night it's as tense as can be. The next afternoon, it is ludicrous. A laugher for one team, an entity lacking humor for the other.
Joke's on us this time. When your best chance to stay competitive is to send Ramon Castro from first to home with […]
by Greg Prince on 25 April 2007 1:06 pm
Have you ever squealed in the literal sense? An honest-to-goodness squeal? Like a pig?
Have you ever pursed your lips and let out an “oooh!” like you were really amazed?
Have you ever reflexively combined a squeal and an “oooh!” again and again? It might sound something like this…
SQUOOOH! SQUOOH! SQUOOH! SQUOOH!
That was me when Endy put […]
by Jason Fry on 25 April 2007 3:38 am
That’s what it took to beat the Rockies tonight — 485 feet of offense, in two equally unexpected doses. First came Damion Easley’s 400-foot drive into the bleachers with two outs and two strikes, a wonderfully ridiculous bit of theater (Down! To! Their! Last! Strike!) from the last Opening Day Met to crack the 2007 […]
by Greg Prince on 24 April 2007 5:44 am
In the parlance of the pocket schedule, Monday night was a value date. Don't say there isn't truth in Mets advertising.
Five bucks for an upper deck ticket (Section 1!) bought the opportunity to watch the once, present and hopefully continuing first-place Mets easily quell the pleasantly pliant Rockies in an economical two hours and thirty-four […]
by Greg Prince on 23 April 2007 8:48 am
I'll bet David Wright is in the lineup tonight. I'll bet David Wright, good health willing, will be in the lineup 158 times this year.
Would it kill Willie to sit him once in a while?
Boy is he pressing. I've never seen David look as lost as he does at present. Saturday, in particular, he seemed […]
by Greg Prince on 22 April 2007 11:12 pm
When I first heard the name “Kelly Johnson” two years ago, I snickered the stunningly puerile snicker of one who had spent too many morning hours listening to Howard Stern.
Kelly = a shade of green.
Johnson = ah, you know.
It wasn’t funny then. It’s twice as unfunny after today. There’s nothing funny about a Kelly Johnson. […]
by Jason Fry on 22 April 2007 2:08 pm
I was unfair to my old hometown of St. Petersburg earlier this week — turns out there's a lot more going on downtown than when I lived there, complete with core-city lofts and their attendant cafes, boutiques and what-not. Not bad for a city chiefly known not so long ago for the advanced age of […]
by Greg Prince on 22 April 2007 1:40 am
Oliver Perez was reborn Saturday as a control freak. May he remain obsessive, compulsive or whatever it takes to do repeatedly what he did today.
Six and two-third innings. Two runs. Nine strikeouts. No walks.
None.
Barely any balls at all…in the literal sense, that is.
Whatever became of the human WALK sign? That fellow (41 of 73 pitches […]
|
|