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Intermission

Mike SteffanosSunday, September 24, 2006
By Mike Steffanos


I will be leaving in a few minutes for a short vacation in New York City with Lisa. We will return Thursday evening. I'm hoping to have some sort of internet access, but if not I may not be posting again until I return. If I can, I'll still check in once a day.

When I do return, the anti-climatic regular season will be drawing to an end, and we'll be gearing up for the playoffs. It will be good to be able to blog about significant games again; it's been difficult for most of this month to come up with topics for posts that interested me, much less had a chance of interesting you. I'm starting to feel it now, however, as the regular season enters its final week.

Since November 1 of last year, I haven't missed a day of posting to this blog and its predecessor. If I'm not able to keep that up this week, it will feel somewhat strange, but understand that it doesn't reflect a lack of commitment to the project on my part.

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Comments (9)

a little sumthin sumthin....nuff said..well deserved....Mets will survive..we will too..

Mike,

Whatever will we do? Wherever will we go?

Im not being sarcastic. I'm serious. How do we get our Mets fix if we're Mike-less? I know, there are dozens of other blogs, but once you've had Godiva chocolate, a plain ol' Hershey bar just doesn't satisfy.

I guess since the games don't mean a thing, I can sit through four days.

I guess.

I know your not there but I needed a placebo to make me feel better. It works, I feel better. Hope the Mets get better.

N8, Rev, and the rest of Mike's Mob,

Whenever two or more are gathered in the name of the Mets, yea, even though Mike may not be among us, verily, we shall celebrate. For one day soon, he (small H) shall return.

The man deserves a few days off. Just as long as he's back to the Met-adone clinic on Thursday night. Our hands are shaking from withdrawal, but we'll get through it.

W-w-w-won't w-w-we?

This is some long intermission! The concession stand just ran out of jujubies.

Works and Plays Well With Others: here's a question to divert those of us impatiently awaiting Mike's return (no pressure, guy!):

How many players on the '86 Mets collected at least 500 At Bats?

The answer is only one, Keith Hernandez. Has anything like that ever happened before, outside of the expansion teams and other similar losing outfits? The whole idea sounds like a team casting around for someone/anyone to do an passable job at every position; NOT a team that won 108 games.

I didn't have to look that question up, by the way; back then I regularly read the Sunday statistics in the Times, and the Mets hardly ever had anyone who qualified for the batting race, whatever the required AB total was at that moment. I spent the year wondering whether the team would have even one batting title qualifier.

It happened that way because of Davey Johnson's managing, the team's respect for the base on balls, and all that personnel depth. Knight and Hojo, Dykstra and Wilson, Mitchell, Backman and Teufel....man, what a team.

Hi,dd and the rest of the Met family,I moved up to Pa. in 1988 from Ozone Park Queens N.Y.and I still remember the buzz in the hood for the Mets that year. It reminded me of my old days in Brooklyn N.Y. when the Dodgers were hot, you can walk home from school and hear every inning as you passed each house on the way home, it seemsd every house radio was tuned in to the game. The 86 Mets had that same kind of hold on Queens, it really was a special time. I would like to see it happen again with this bunch. This year, next year, it will just happen.

I spent the Sunday afternoon on the day after Game 6 of the 1986 World Series at the Lynbrook Fire Department, in the meeting hall upstairs. We were celebrating the baptism of my first child, Virginia. Family, friends, food, fun.

A ticket to World Series Game 7 was burning a hole in my pocket. My daughter's godfather, my best friend Mike (no, a different Mike), had a ticket burning a hole in his pocket, too. Dave and Bill and Jim were all there. The pants of all three were on fire as well.

We ate, we drank, we laughed. The five of us took turns checking our watches, and eyeing the drizzly weather outside. We prayed for rain.

Our prayers were answered. The game was postponed until Monday night, eliminating the very real chance that my wife would divorce me for leaving my own child's baptism early.

On the long walk between the Long Island Railroad stop at Shea and Gate C, I offered up an interesting fact. We could walk up to the gate, turn around, and make back all the money we'd spent all season on our Saturday season ticket plan - 13 games, 13 parking fees, food, programs, the whole shebang - and turn a profit on a single ticket. A ticket that had spent the last 24 hours burning a hole in each of our respective pockets.

Mike looked at me. Dave looked at Jim. Bill looked from one of us to the next. In unison, we all said, "Nahhhhhhh!"

You know how Game 7 ended. And, damn, what fun it was to get there. We thought there'd be a fistful of postseasons like that in the near future.

Virginia's a junior in college right now.

How about an encore?

Hey guys, thanks for all of the kind words. We'll be reconvening the support group with business as usual. Perhaps the Mets will take pity on us and start playing better...

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