Thursday, September 29, 2005
Farewell to Mike
This weekend marks, in all liklihood, Mike Piazza's final homestand as a New York Met. It appears as though Mike will spend his final years in the American League as a DH. I'm sure Mets fans will show him all the appreciation he richly deserves. The greatest position player in the history of the franchise will sorely be missed.
I remember the day in May of 1998 that the Mets pulled off the trade to acquire Piazza from the Marlins, who were renting him from the Dodgers. I am ashamed to admit that I was one of the few idiots who initially opposed the idea of trading for Piazza. After all, Todd Hundley was due back from the DL any day. Well, we can't always be right.
Mike was greeted as a hero, and he vaulted into almost legendary status when he doubled in a run in his very first Met at-bat. But the adulation would quickly sour as only it could in New York. We New York baseball fans are an impatient lot, and when Mike failed to homer in every plate appearance, the cheers turned to boos. The only game I was able to make that year was in late July against the Dodgers (I believe it was the night of the trade deadline that year). After sitting in traffic for over an hour to finally get to the gate three innings late, I witnessed the Mets bow to the Dodgers after Franco blew a save in the ninth. Naturally Franco was booed off the field, but what irked me was the manner in which Mets fans treated Piazza, who had an 0-fer that night. I could not believe these idiots were booing the best catcher in the game merely because he had not lived up to their preposterously high expectations. But such is life as a Mets fan. It's true that he struggled a bit at the outset, but any rational human being realized he would turn things around.
Boy did he. Piazza single-handedly kept the Mets in the Wild Card race over the final two months of the season. He was so good that by the middle of September the fans that had been booing him were now serenading him with a chorus of "Happy Birthday to you" as he batted against the Braves on his birthday. But I thought the idiots had blown any chance of him signing a long-term contract with their previous hostility. Fortunately I was wrong once again.
Not only did they resign him, but they added Robin Ventura to the lineup in the off-season, and for really the only time in his Met career Mike was surrounded by a formidable lineup during the 1999 season. I think that the '99 team was the best team the Mets ever fielded in the Piazza era. Despite falling to 27-28 towards the beginning of June, they roared back and won the Wild Card after nearly collapsing again at the end of the regular season. But Piazza was worn down during the playoff race, and he would not be able to carry the team during the post-season. But he would have one magical moment left in him for the year.
The Mets dropped the first three games of the NLCS to the Braves, and were essentially done. But they won game four, and then there was the grand single in game five. They fell behind big in the first inning of game six, but crawled back. They were down by two in the eight when John Smoltz came in to close it down (or perhaps seventh, my memory fails here). Runner on base, and the ineffective Piazza up. And I'll never forget that pitch. For the one and only time in my life I called a homerun while a pitch was in mid-flight. It was a meatball, and you just don't deliver a meatball to an Italian and not expect him to devour it. Game tied. The Mets would take the lead afterwards, and then . . .
The Mets lost Olerud in the off-season, Ventura's production drastically declined, and they no longer had the services of Roger Cedeno and Ricky Henderson at the top of the lineup. But the Mets still had Mikey at the heart of the order (and some pitcher named Hampton). He had some help, but Piazza put the team on his back, only this time the true MVP of the league carried his production over to the post-season. Well, he stumbled in the NLDS, but then he came alive in the NLCS against the Cardinals. The indelible moment of the playoffs was John Stearns yelling "the monster is out of the cage" after Piazza hammered out a double in St. Louis. He continued his hot hitting into the World Series. And in the bottom of the ninth of game five of the Series he lifted a fly ball deep to center field . . . but I forgot what happened.
The last five years have not been as fun. But he's continued to contribute to our collective memories. In the first home game after September 11, and the Mets playing a critical game against the Braves in an effort to continue their improbable surge, Piazza launched one into the night sky that gave the Mets the lead. Unfortunately, some fellow named Armando would blow one two days later, and then again the following week.
Perhaps the most memorable Piazza homerun came in the midst of their 2000 pennant winning season. The Mets were getting shallacked - again - by the Braves. But ever so slowly they forged a comeback in the eight inning. Bit by bit they dug into that Braves lead. Somehow they even managed to tie it, when up stepped Piazza to the plate. And if you blinked, you missed the hardest hit homerun in Shea history. It was out by the time he completed his swing. And there probably wasn't a soul in the park who didn't know he was going to do it.
Mikey pulled a groin muscle in May of 2003, and he has not been the dominant player since. But it doesn't really matter. No player has ever meant as much to the Met fan, save perhaps for Tom Seaver. I am a fan of the team, but up until Piazza's arrival I never attached myself to any single player. Sadly I no longer live in new York and cannot send him off, but expect every single person to be on their feet on Sunday as Mike takes his last cuts for the Mets. And if history means anything, something tells me he will provide one last thrill for the fans.
Thanks Mike. Thanks for everything.
Update: Thanks to Matthew Cerrone of Mets Blog for the link. His place has provided warm comfort for us usually miserable Mets fans.
I remember the day in May of 1998 that the Mets pulled off the trade to acquire Piazza from the Marlins, who were renting him from the Dodgers. I am ashamed to admit that I was one of the few idiots who initially opposed the idea of trading for Piazza. After all, Todd Hundley was due back from the DL any day. Well, we can't always be right.
Mike was greeted as a hero, and he vaulted into almost legendary status when he doubled in a run in his very first Met at-bat. But the adulation would quickly sour as only it could in New York. We New York baseball fans are an impatient lot, and when Mike failed to homer in every plate appearance, the cheers turned to boos. The only game I was able to make that year was in late July against the Dodgers (I believe it was the night of the trade deadline that year). After sitting in traffic for over an hour to finally get to the gate three innings late, I witnessed the Mets bow to the Dodgers after Franco blew a save in the ninth. Naturally Franco was booed off the field, but what irked me was the manner in which Mets fans treated Piazza, who had an 0-fer that night. I could not believe these idiots were booing the best catcher in the game merely because he had not lived up to their preposterously high expectations. But such is life as a Mets fan. It's true that he struggled a bit at the outset, but any rational human being realized he would turn things around.
Boy did he. Piazza single-handedly kept the Mets in the Wild Card race over the final two months of the season. He was so good that by the middle of September the fans that had been booing him were now serenading him with a chorus of "Happy Birthday to you" as he batted against the Braves on his birthday. But I thought the idiots had blown any chance of him signing a long-term contract with their previous hostility. Fortunately I was wrong once again.
Not only did they resign him, but they added Robin Ventura to the lineup in the off-season, and for really the only time in his Met career Mike was surrounded by a formidable lineup during the 1999 season. I think that the '99 team was the best team the Mets ever fielded in the Piazza era. Despite falling to 27-28 towards the beginning of June, they roared back and won the Wild Card after nearly collapsing again at the end of the regular season. But Piazza was worn down during the playoff race, and he would not be able to carry the team during the post-season. But he would have one magical moment left in him for the year.
The Mets dropped the first three games of the NLCS to the Braves, and were essentially done. But they won game four, and then there was the grand single in game five. They fell behind big in the first inning of game six, but crawled back. They were down by two in the eight when John Smoltz came in to close it down (or perhaps seventh, my memory fails here). Runner on base, and the ineffective Piazza up. And I'll never forget that pitch. For the one and only time in my life I called a homerun while a pitch was in mid-flight. It was a meatball, and you just don't deliver a meatball to an Italian and not expect him to devour it. Game tied. The Mets would take the lead afterwards, and then . . .
The Mets lost Olerud in the off-season, Ventura's production drastically declined, and they no longer had the services of Roger Cedeno and Ricky Henderson at the top of the lineup. But the Mets still had Mikey at the heart of the order (and some pitcher named Hampton). He had some help, but Piazza put the team on his back, only this time the true MVP of the league carried his production over to the post-season. Well, he stumbled in the NLDS, but then he came alive in the NLCS against the Cardinals. The indelible moment of the playoffs was John Stearns yelling "the monster is out of the cage" after Piazza hammered out a double in St. Louis. He continued his hot hitting into the World Series. And in the bottom of the ninth of game five of the Series he lifted a fly ball deep to center field . . . but I forgot what happened.
The last five years have not been as fun. But he's continued to contribute to our collective memories. In the first home game after September 11, and the Mets playing a critical game against the Braves in an effort to continue their improbable surge, Piazza launched one into the night sky that gave the Mets the lead. Unfortunately, some fellow named Armando would blow one two days later, and then again the following week.
Perhaps the most memorable Piazza homerun came in the midst of their 2000 pennant winning season. The Mets were getting shallacked - again - by the Braves. But ever so slowly they forged a comeback in the eight inning. Bit by bit they dug into that Braves lead. Somehow they even managed to tie it, when up stepped Piazza to the plate. And if you blinked, you missed the hardest hit homerun in Shea history. It was out by the time he completed his swing. And there probably wasn't a soul in the park who didn't know he was going to do it.
Mikey pulled a groin muscle in May of 2003, and he has not been the dominant player since. But it doesn't really matter. No player has ever meant as much to the Met fan, save perhaps for Tom Seaver. I am a fan of the team, but up until Piazza's arrival I never attached myself to any single player. Sadly I no longer live in new York and cannot send him off, but expect every single person to be on their feet on Sunday as Mike takes his last cuts for the Mets. And if history means anything, something tells me he will provide one last thrill for the fans.
Thanks Mike. Thanks for everything.
Update: Thanks to Matthew Cerrone of Mets Blog for the link. His place has provided warm comfort for us usually miserable Mets fans.
# posted by Paul Zummo : 11:12 AM
