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 Meaningful Exhibition Game

Do you remember R.A. Dickey shutting down the Mets last June in Toronto and then letting it be known he was pitching a couple of days after his father’s death? Taking the ball was something his manager, John Gibbons, said he felt he had to do. That stayed with me in light of my father […]

Bystanders

It happens sometimes: life, that amorphous bundle of stuff, refuses to conform itself to the rhythms of 7:10 and 1:10 and 4:10. I thought I had my July 4th parceled out so three hours were reserved for the Mets game, but I hadn’t been paying attention to which day was which.

I’ve got a mental list of […]

Other People's Problems

Yep, this was all too typical of recent Mets games: in the seventh, the second baseman had a runner dead to rights at third, and hit the third baseman’s glove, only to see the ball bound away and skitter up the third-base line to bring the enemy go-ahead run home.

It wasn’t over — they fought back […]

Three Times in Fifty-Five Years

For nine innings Saturday night, you might have believed you were watching the Mets perform in historically frustrating fashion, better known as just another game from the past eight weeks. On April 30, the Mets had risen to eight games above .500, Michael Conforto was soaring atop an OPS of 1.118 and the only change […]

Of Coming Through & Coming Back

You don’t want to have to win a game by using five relievers to cover 8.2 innings, but you surely don’t want to lose a game under those circumstances. They were unavoidable Wednesday night once Bartolo Colon was forced to leave in deference to a liner off his right thumb from Royals leadoff hitter Whit […]

The Pitcher Whisperers

Even in Little League I was a no-tool player: completely inept at hitting, catching and throwing. (I could run, but never had any reason to.) The only thing I could do, kind of, was play catcher.

To be sure, I couldn’t even do that. There was no stealing in our league and maybe one play at the […]

The Tiger or the Other Tiger?

It’s an ancient baseball conundrum.

No, not “are sacrifice bunts mostly dumb or mostly super-dumb?” And not “is something wrong if you’re giving that many ABs to Eric Campbell?” I mean something even tougher to contemplate and more scarring to one’s inner fan: “would you rather lose meekly, or come back and then lose hideously?”

It was […]

Old Home Week

I gotta say, I am loving the 1986 vibe around our first-place Mets. True, it’s mostly a function of homecoming weekend (a concept I dared only dream of when Citi Field was no more than a branding exercise), but this wouldn’t work nearly as well without the Mets being in first place.

And did I mention […]

From Mattrocious to Matznificent

We now interrupt our collective, continuing Matt Harvey freakout to note Steven Matz is posting one of the best pitching seasons on the planet.

Yes, Steven Matz. Pay attention to him. Attention must be paid. Ought to be, at any rate.

I could see where you’d overlook him. Matz isn’t the most interesting member of the Met […]

They Finally Had It Made

The night started with 42s everywhere and ended with a 7 in your scorebook. I couldn’t miss the former on Jackie Robinson Day, but had to look up the latter, as sensory overload must have gotten to me, sending this correspondent nodding off to dreamland as the bottom of the eighth commenced. The last thing […]