Book Review: "Faith and Fear in Flushing: An Intense Personal History of the New York Mets," Greg W. Prince
Most boys become big fans of one pro sports team or more. Some become more fervent fans than others. And in the Age o' Internet, one can write about being a fervent fan and get positive feedback from other fervent fans. Writing a book about being a fervent fan, however, presents a larger challenge -- how do I get those who are not a fervent fan of said team to read the book without saying either a) "This guy's totally nuts," or b) "I don't like this team enough to continue reading further."
Now, I'm a Mets fan first and foremost, so I'm probably not the best to review this book; I maintain the same biases Greg Prince does (Mets great, all other teams bad, Yankees really, really bad). So I took it from a different perspective: am I like this guy? And the answer is: pretty much.
- I'm his age (he's about five weeks younger than I am)
- I grew up in the same general area (he grew up on Long Island, I grew up in New Jersey)
- we became fans around the same time (he became a fan in 1969, I waited until 1971, and thus missed the first World Series win)
- we suffered through ups and downs (the 1973 pennant, the Seaver trade and subsequent lousy teams, the mid-'80s renaissance, the '90s drop-off and the Piazza-led revival)
- he met his wife-to-be in 1987 and married her in 1991, so did I (one major difference: Karen could not care less about baseball and likely never will -- unless, of course, my son becomes a fervent baseball fan. Important note: so far, Danny appears to be a Cubs fan, but that's at my urging -- becoming a New York Mets fans in suburban Chicagoland is a surefire start on the road to social leperdom)
- we both shut off the TV volume for the 1986 World Series Game 6, Inning 10 (in my case, it was because my roommate had gone to sleep in our railroad apartment and I was being considerate -- although I was so sick of Vin Scully bringing up the various turning points that left the Mets two runs behind on a once-every-45-seconds basis that I probably would have put my foot through the screen at some point). This proved so successful that I left the volume off for Game 7, listening to the dulcet tones of Bob Murphy and Gary Thorne instead -- and has left me with a lifetime dislike of Vin Scully; I think he became a hero in southern California only because they had no basis for comparison.
My problem with the recent years, however, is I'm no longer a New Yorker. (I was a New Yorker even growing up in New Jersey, and I prefer to put the two years spent in North Carolina out of my mind.) I live in Chicagoland now. While the Mets are still my first team, I certainly listen to and watch more Cubs and White Sox games than Met games. (Note to self: try to get tickets for next year if the Mets visit Milwaukee on a weekend; rooting for opposing team in Wrigley or Comiskey is tantamount to suicide.) So, the playoff collapses in 2007 and 2008 were seen at a distance. (I do not call them "chokes"; I'll go into this more some other time.) Except for the few years Prince was in college in Florida, he's never been able to watch the Mets from a distance. The only derision he's had to deal with is that of Yankee fans (and, even though New Yorkers are notorious frontrunners -- during the 1996 World Series, almost everybody I worked with at St. Martin's Press in the Flatiron Building became a Yankee fan; the woman in the office next to mine and I stuck to our guns and rooted openly for Atlanta -- Met fans still likely outnumber Yankee fans on Long Island, which is right next to Shea Stadium and/or Citi Field). It's harder to root for a team a thousand miles away. (I usually quiet people who deride my continuing to root for the Mets first and foremost instead of a local team by asking them if they'd dump the Cubs/White Sox if they moved to NYC; they wouldn't.)
Most fans, no matter how loyal they are to their team, cannot name all the players on the active roster when the team won the pennant 35 years ago (here, I'll try without looking: Tom Seaver, Jon Matlack, Jerry Koosman, George Stone, Tug McGraw, Buzz Capra, Harry Parker, Ray Sadecki, Jerry Grote, Duffy Dyer, Ron Hodges, John Milner, Felix Millan, Bud Harrelson, Wayne Garrett, Ted Martinez, Cleon Jones, Don Hahn, Rusty Staub, Willie Mays, Dave Marshall -- okay, that's 21 out of 25; missing Jim McAndrew, George Theodore, Jim Beauchamp, and Ken Boswell). Prince can. He can also describe exactly what he was doing while watching Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS (of course, so can I: sitting in the Flatiron Building, listening to the game on weak-signaled WHN -- St. Martin's Press didn't have any televisions at that point -- with my friends and co-workers George, Jack, Janet, Lincoln, and Stuart until they won around 8 PM that night). And where he was in 1977 when the Mets traded Tom Seaver (I was watching Channel 4 news and listening to the radio mournfully). And so on.
Okay, I'm probably as much of a Mets nut as Greg Prince is. And this was fun to read as a result, and I'd recommend it to most Met fans. Don't expect literature, but do imagine you've gotten a letter (albeit a really long letter) from a friend. Would it be fun for a non-Met fan? Probably not, although it might open some eyes. (At least a few Mets fans are going to read it, given I got my copy out of the library here in Naperville, IL.)
*****
National League Championship Series starts tomorrow night. I'll try to live blog the game.
Most boys become big fans of one pro sports team or more. Some become more fervent fans than others. And in the Age o' Internet, one can write about being a fervent fan and get positive feedback from other fervent fans. Writing a book about being a fervent fan, however, presents a larger challenge -- how do I get those who are not a fervent fan of said team to read the book without saying either a) "This guy's totally nuts," or b) "I don't like this team enough to continue reading further."
Now, I'm a Mets fan first and foremost, so I'm probably not the best to review this book; I maintain the same biases Greg Prince does (Mets great, all other teams bad, Yankees really, really bad). So I took it from a different perspective: am I like this guy? And the answer is: pretty much.
- I'm his age (he's about five weeks younger than I am)
- I grew up in the same general area (he grew up on Long Island, I grew up in New Jersey)
- we became fans around the same time (he became a fan in 1969, I waited until 1971, and thus missed the first World Series win)
- we suffered through ups and downs (the 1973 pennant, the Seaver trade and subsequent lousy teams, the mid-'80s renaissance, the '90s drop-off and the Piazza-led revival)
- he met his wife-to-be in 1987 and married her in 1991, so did I (one major difference: Karen could not care less about baseball and likely never will -- unless, of course, my son becomes a fervent baseball fan. Important note: so far, Danny appears to be a Cubs fan, but that's at my urging -- becoming a New York Mets fans in suburban Chicagoland is a surefire start on the road to social leperdom)
- we both shut off the TV volume for the 1986 World Series Game 6, Inning 10 (in my case, it was because my roommate had gone to sleep in our railroad apartment and I was being considerate -- although I was so sick of Vin Scully bringing up the various turning points that left the Mets two runs behind on a once-every-45-seconds basis that I probably would have put my foot through the screen at some point). This proved so successful that I left the volume off for Game 7, listening to the dulcet tones of Bob Murphy and Gary Thorne instead -- and has left me with a lifetime dislike of Vin Scully; I think he became a hero in southern California only because they had no basis for comparison.
My problem with the recent years, however, is I'm no longer a New Yorker. (I was a New Yorker even growing up in New Jersey, and I prefer to put the two years spent in North Carolina out of my mind.) I live in Chicagoland now. While the Mets are still my first team, I certainly listen to and watch more Cubs and White Sox games than Met games. (Note to self: try to get tickets for next year if the Mets visit Milwaukee on a weekend; rooting for opposing team in Wrigley or Comiskey is tantamount to suicide.) So, the playoff collapses in 2007 and 2008 were seen at a distance. (I do not call them "chokes"; I'll go into this more some other time.) Except for the few years Prince was in college in Florida, he's never been able to watch the Mets from a distance. The only derision he's had to deal with is that of Yankee fans (and, even though New Yorkers are notorious frontrunners -- during the 1996 World Series, almost everybody I worked with at St. Martin's Press in the Flatiron Building became a Yankee fan; the woman in the office next to mine and I stuck to our guns and rooted openly for Atlanta -- Met fans still likely outnumber Yankee fans on Long Island, which is right next to Shea Stadium and/or Citi Field). It's harder to root for a team a thousand miles away. (I usually quiet people who deride my continuing to root for the Mets first and foremost instead of a local team by asking them if they'd dump the Cubs/White Sox if they moved to NYC; they wouldn't.)
Most fans, no matter how loyal they are to their team, cannot name all the players on the active roster when the team won the pennant 35 years ago (here, I'll try without looking: Tom Seaver, Jon Matlack, Jerry Koosman, George Stone, Tug McGraw, Buzz Capra, Harry Parker, Ray Sadecki, Jerry Grote, Duffy Dyer, Ron Hodges, John Milner, Felix Millan, Bud Harrelson, Wayne Garrett, Ted Martinez, Cleon Jones, Don Hahn, Rusty Staub, Willie Mays, Dave Marshall -- okay, that's 21 out of 25; missing Jim McAndrew, George Theodore, Jim Beauchamp, and Ken Boswell). Prince can. He can also describe exactly what he was doing while watching Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS (of course, so can I: sitting in the Flatiron Building, listening to the game on weak-signaled WHN -- St. Martin's Press didn't have any televisions at that point -- with my friends and co-workers George, Jack, Janet, Lincoln, and Stuart until they won around 8 PM that night). And where he was in 1977 when the Mets traded Tom Seaver (I was watching Channel 4 news and listening to the radio mournfully). And so on.
Okay, I'm probably as much of a Mets nut as Greg Prince is. And this was fun to read as a result, and I'd recommend it to most Met fans. Don't expect literature, but do imagine you've gotten a letter (albeit a really long letter) from a friend. Would it be fun for a non-Met fan? Probably not, although it might open some eyes. (At least a few Mets fans are going to read it, given I got my copy out of the library here in Naperville, IL.)
*****
National League Championship Series starts tomorrow night. I'll try to live blog the game.
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