The power centers of baseball are California, the sunbelt and Florida, and the Caribbean - places where the endless summer sun allows for year-round play. Not the public housing towers, brick stoops, and snow-covered lots of Brooklyn and Queens. Yet today, a pair of New Yorkers (one born here, the other raised), two outer borough guys, are the toast of the baseball world.
When the champagne splattered everything in sight in the Flushing clubhouse, Willie Randolph from Brooklyn and Omar Minaya from Queens (by way of the DR) capped a terrific New York story along with the Mets first division championship in 18 years. Along with the Wilpons of Brooklyn, the Mets braintrust took a victory sip from the loving cup of appreciation, hoisted by a town that loves winners above all else.
Moreover, they realized the fruits of an aggressive, two-year climb to excellence. This is team is both loaded (Minaya) and together (Randolph). Sure, they have a long way to go this year. Yes, for this team merely aking the playoffs is hardly the summit. And you can be sure I fear that quick, five-game series of the first playoff round. You know they can handle the Padres, Dodgers, Phillies or Cardinals; they're easily the class of the league - and when entirely healthy, their 1-8 lineup is among the best in baseball. But a short series can bring down even the most titanic of lineups. Starting pitching will be vital - the bullpen is already the finest in baseball.
I loved the pics of Reyes and Wright, the two 23-year-old stars, celebrating in style among the fans. That's a nucleus - especially with Beltran. But don't discount the vets, Delgado and Valentin and even a gimpy Cliff Floyd.
But today, for the National League East champs, the pirze goes to two middle-aged, up from the streets, New York guys. Omar and Willie.
UPDATE: A wonderfully profane reaction from Steve Gilliard - a die-hard Mets fan who, shall we say, loathes that team across town along with a certain pair of afternoon WFAN talkies. He totally captures the frustration/relief quotient of the fans. Fred remembers a cab ride long ago, rooting for Doc Gooden his rookie season - and got the same feeling last night. Waiting for reaction from Mets fans Lance and James, among others.
UPDATE II: Lance introduces me to Mr. Met (as if I needed the intro!) and posts the best single photo of this great Mets season (tell the lad for me, Lance).
UPDATE III: Wonderful post by Steve Keane on the wonderfully-named Eddie Kranepool Society blog; here's a bit where he remembers the most recent bad old days and what life was like in the wasteland of the upper deck:
Just the usual die hards, the guys with the royal blue Mets jackets with the inter-locking old English NY on the left breast and worn blue Mets hats with the blue button on top. We would just nod to one and other, no need to talk, we were stuck in the mud and as bad as it was the organization was so much a part of our DNA that we could not get away. We have been made fun of and mocked by fans of another team in this town that no nothing of suffering and having their loyalty tested time and time again. Way back when, the NY media loved us thought we were “Amazing” then when hard times fell they turned on us just to prove what a front running town this is. And with all that we have stayed loyal to the blue and orange but what looked to be the last straw, the one event that would cause a revolt among the loyal fans who seemed to getting smaller and smaller may have been what saved the franchise.
