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 Greg Prince on 15 August 2010 2:00 pm
Lost, perhaps, in the euphoria over R.A. Dickey’s one-hitter on Friday night was the astounding arrival of Mike Hessman into the land of triples. As noted previously, Hessman’s first four Mets hits have been a veritable cycle: a double in his first start; a single the next day; a home run eight days later; and […]
by Greg Prince on 1 August 2010 1:20 am
The perfect team needs no enhancements at the trading deadline. Enhancements are for teams with glaring imperfections, first-place outfits like the Cardinals, the Padres, the Braves, the Yankees. They admitted their imperfections by making trades. So much for them. Perfection is obviously embodied in the tied-for-third place Mets, a club that stood pat Saturday afternoon […]
by Greg Prince on 2 July 2010 2:25 am
GOOD SIGNS FROM THURSDAY NIGHT
• Johan Santana had the breaking pitch working, thereby forestalling by at least one start the precipitous decline feared on his behalf in this space five days earlier.
• Ruben Tejada displays incredible intelligence and instincts no matter where he plays. Whatever way you figure out to get Cliff Lee here, the […]
by Jason Fry on 14 June 2010 12:03 am
Call it a laugher that didn’t seem that funny at the beginning.
Despite it being hot enough in Baltimore to turn steel into taffy, Mike Pelfrey couldn’t seem to get loose. Or something else was wrong with him for a worrisome percentage of the game: From the beginning we were faced with the old Pelf, looking […]
|
|