Recently in 1999 Project Category

Way back in September, a reader emailed me and asked if I could collect all of the 1999 Project posts (so far) into a handy doc for non-web reading. So I did it, and in doing so discovered all the words I'd typed so far added up to 142 single-spaced pages in Word. At the time, the Project had only covered the regular season. I'm sure the postseason games I've chronicled since then would add another 25 pages to the total, bare minimum.

For a moment, I had a crisis of conscience. I still can't finish my latest novel, and I haven't seriously tried to get anything of mine published in traditional media since my daughter was born. And yet, I'd written the equivalent of 300 book pages on the 1999 New York Mets, a project with seemingly no purpose but to feed my own unquenchable nostalgic jones.

Take a peek at the sports section of your local book store. You'll find precious little ink devoted to non-championship teams The 1999 Mets didn't even make it to the World Series. Why did I waste so much time detailing the every move of a team that was ultimately a failure?

I suppose that depends on your definition of failure. In the sense of Sports as Warfare, a zero-sum game where there can only be one victor, then yes, the 1999 Mets were a failure. But by that definition, every team but the Yankees was a failure in 1999. To me, the idea that anything less than a championship is a failure is a Yankee organization/fan attitude. Is that who we should emulate, really?

I prefer to think of sports as entertainment, and seasons as productions. Some are more successful than others. Some are unbridled triumphs and some are flawed but courageous. Some are depressing, some are disappointing, and some are unadulterated shit-shows. But you can still love films that are less than perfect. If your favorite movie didn't win any Oscars, do you have to stop loving it because it "failed"?

Of course, the difference between a movie and a baseball season is you can watch a movie over and over. You can't really do that with baseball, not even a little bit (especially since MLB does everything in its power to prevent fans from posting/sharing old game footage).

Not to mention the ESPN-ification of sports coverage, wherein any game/season/sport is reduced to a few highlight reel plays. That format suits basketball and football well, but every baseball season--every baseball game--is a marathon, not a sprint. Distilling it down into bite sized chunks, and declaring only one victor, does the game a disservice. Whenever I see a game that I watched covered in roughly 90 seconds on SportsCenter, I see nothing but the glaring omissions necessary for such a cheap format.

Many fanbases have teams that didn't win it all but are still beloved. Case in point: The 1982 Milwaukee Brewers. If you're a cheesehead baseball fan, this is your favorite team of all time. Harvey's Wallbangers are celebrated constantly at Miller Park. The Brewers still regularly wear the '82 style uniforms. A documentary about them runs in heavy rotation on MLB Network. They lost the World Series to the Cardinals that year, but that almost seems beside the point.

The 2000 Mets were more successful than the 1999 version, in the sense that they went one step farther by making it to the World Series. But the 2000 team lacked a certain something. They had some awesome games that year, particularly in the NLDS against the Giants. Unfortunately, the Mets saw some key players leave the team after 1999 for one reason or another, and almost uniformly replaced them with guys who had decidedly less bite (a totally ephemeral quality, I realize). 

They lost John Olerud to free agency and replaced him with Todd Zeile, another in a long line of players the Mets acquired for the sole purpose of making him play out of position. They lost Rey Ordonez to injury and replaced him with Mike Bordick, trading away Melvin Mora in the process. In Mora's absence, professional malcontent Derek Bell patrolled the outfield for most of the season. And they traded away Roger Cedeno and Octavio Dotel to get Mike Hampton, who pitched them to the World Series, then abandoned them in the offseason because Denver's schools were so much better than New York's. (On the plus side, the compensation pick the Mets got when he left was used to draft David Wright.)

There's also the fact that the Mets (as an organization) don't respect their own history at all. They have only four retired numbers, and only one of those represents a man who took the field for them (Tom Seaver's 41). They have a moribund Hall of Fame that has inducted no new members since 2002. They built a new ballpark but forgot to include any mementos of triumphs past. I went to CitiField a lot last year, but I didn't see a single mention of the magic of 1999, not even on the scoreboard between innings (they needed that precious time for the Cascarino's Pizza Pass contest).

So I guess I did this for the same reason that Greg Prince at Faith and Fear in Flushing often writes about the 1999 Mets: to keep that season from "disappearing down the memory hole". As I wrote in my roundup of game 6 of the NLCS, even though the Braves won that game and were on their way to the World Series, the NBC cameras spent an incredibly long time lingering on the "losers". Neither Bob Costas nor Joe Morgan would stop talking about them. Anyone who witnessed the 1999 Mets, at the time, recognized how special they were. I don't want that to be forgotten.

For months, the Mets walked a tightrope between ecstasy and doom. Eventually, they fell, but they put on a hell of a show before they lost their balance. I don't think I'll ever see a better season, and if I do, it will have to be an even crazier combination of the monstrous and the sublime.

The 1999 Mets were a success. I feel sorry for anyone who'd think otherwise.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Vegas had the Mets at 5-1 odds to win games 6 and 7 in Atlanta. No other team who opened a playoff series with three straight losses had ever forced a seventh game. Only one other team that fell behind 0-3 had gotten as far as game 6 (ironically, it was the Braves, who lost the first three games of the 1998 NLCS, then won games 4 and 5).

Long odds, but not nearly as hopeless as things looked at the end of game 3, and playing from behind seemed to suit this team well. Fans sounded hopeful that they could actually pull off such a comeback, while noting it was not the Mets' lot to make things easy on themselves. "[T]he Mets always give you ulcers, they never go about things the easy way," said Mike Kramer of Brooklyn. "They don't breeze through like the Yankees."

By the day of game 6, the team from the Bronx had already dispatched of the Red Sox in a five-game ALCS. They eagerly awaited the winner of this series, and vice versa.

Ed Westfall, captain of the 1975 Islanders team that rallied from a 0-3 deficit to win a playoff series (one of only two pro sports teams who'd ever pulled off such a feat), threw in his own two cents. He praised Bobby Valentine for not cracking under pressure, and celebrated in his Long Island home when the Mets won game 5, despite recovering from bypass surgery. When he saw the team ecstatic over Robin Ventura's grand slam single, he said, "I've seen that before. I've felt that before."

The team definitely believed in itself. Bobby Valentine went so far as to say, "I think there's good forces working on our behalf." The Braves often referred to themselves as America's team, but Orel Hershiser felt the country was rooting for the Mets. "I think America has a love affair with underdogs," he said. "I'm an NFL fan and I root for the team that's down at halftime. I think people in America want to see the Mets win because nobody's ever come back from 3-0. They can even overcome disliking New York."

"Just because no team has lost a 3-0 lead doesn't mean a team can't be beaten four in a row," Marc Kriegel wrote in the Daily News. "That has been done. Despite Tom Glavine, Greg Maddux and John Smoltz, the Braves dropped four straight to the Yankees in the '96 Series. Maybe you forgot that. But you can bet the Braves did not."

There were signs that the Braves had begun to feel some pressure. After game 5, Atlanta pondered what could have been. In game 4, they were four outs away from finishing the Mets, and were beaten by a double steal and a slow chopper. The next night, they were three outs away from a trip to World Series, and once again the Mets rallied to defeat them. More galling than a blown one-run lead in the fifteenth inning were the 19 men the Braves left on base. "It doesn't matter unless you end up with a hit,'' Greg Maddux sighed. "We're not up there to get 'Atta boys' and 'Way to gos'"

Back in Atlanta, game 6 starter Kevin Millwood fielded questions from reporters. One began by noting that the righty hadn't lost a game since August, but he didn't get a chance to finish the query. "Shh, don't say it," Millwood warned, half-jokingly.

Millwood did proclaim himself confident, however, because he had beaten the Mets in game 2 even though "I didn't have my best stuff...They probably saw a lot of pitches last time they won't see this time."

Al Leiter would take the mound on three days' rest for the first time since 1994 for "one more last start", as the Daily News put it. He'd given nothing but stellar performances in must-win games for the Mets all year, and particularly in the last month, even if it didn't always show up in the win column for himself or his team. He stopped a seven-game slide with a win over Atlanta at Shea in the last week of the regular season, threw a complete game shutout against the Reds in the play-in game, and pitched 7 2/3 great innings against the Diamondbacks in game 4 of the NLDS before Armando Benitez and Todd Pratt rendered his performance an afterthought.

He also gave up only one unearned run to the Braves in game 3 of the NLCS, and somehow wound up with a loss. But he'd pitched to a 1.47 ERA in his last four starts, and Bobby Valentine felt confident about turning to him because he'd only thrown 103 pitches in that game, a relatively low count for the lefty. Leiter hoped he could ride the near-death-experience vibe the rest of his team did. "Let's face it, we've been playing like it's been our last game for a while now," he said. "Not that we thrive on it, but we are doing OK with it."

If Leiter faltered, Rick Reed proclaimed himself available to pick up the slack. Despite pitching 7 innings in game 4, he'd only thrown 73 pitches in the effort. He also warmed up during the marathon game 5, and would have pitched the 16th inning if the score had remained tied. Reed said he'd take that warmup as his between-starts workout, and be ready in case the Mets needed help in game 6. Once again, it was all hands on deck.

That included Mike Piazza, who would play game 6 despite suffering a lifetime of bangs and bruises in the past month. He still looked dazed and distant while fielding Craig Sager's pregame questions. Even ignoring the mild concussion he suffered in game 3 (which most newspapers and broadcasters seemed to do), both of his arms and hands were beaten up, which had led to a pronounced lack of power in the series. "When I took the last swing on Rocker [in game 5], I felt a tingling in my fingers and a real hot sensation in my forearm..." he told The New York Times. "The bat feels a lot heavier than it did a month ago....My left arm -- I'm looking for a donor"

"If the Mets make the World Series," Bob Costas opined, "Mike Piazza should get a ring and a Purple Heart."

Two other Mets would also be back in action. Roger Cedeno returned to the outfield after missing most of game 5 with back spasms. Third base coach Cookie Rojas had served his five-game suspension for bumping an umpire in the last game of the NLDS and would once again work the lines.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Given a stay of execution, the Mets looked like they were back in midseason form. That included some needless clubhouse squabbling.

Rickey Henderson was upset when Bobby Valentine replaced him in the middle of game 4 for defense and waited until he took the field to do so. The manager apologized for waiting so long to remove him (if not for removing him in the first place) as he came back to the dugout, but Henderson brushed passed him, went straight to the clubhouse, and was not seen in the Mets locker room after the game.

In a postgame interview, Turk Wendell praised his teammates--23 of them, anyway. "This is a real team effort except for one guy who quit," he said. When asked to clarify, he gestured toward Henderson's empty locker. "Look around the room."

Before game 5, Rickey responded in typical Rickey fashion. "If he doesn't respect me, then tough luck," he said. "He should be happy he's in this position. He wouldn't be here if not for me." Henderson also suggested that Turk could "kiss my black ass".

Wendell tried to apologize to Henderson later, but Rickey refused to accept his apology. In one of those awesome "oops!" episodes of live TV, as Craig Sager related this saga, NBC cut to a shot of Wendell idling in the bullpen, just in time to catch him strenuously picking his nose.

The renewed turmoil also brought with it more anonymous grousing about Valentine. One unnamed "prominent Met" told Bill Madden of the Daily News, "It looks like he wants to get fired and go get a job in Japan." Madden also reported that some players were upset about Valentine pinch hitting for Robin Ventura in game 3 against John Rocker, even though Ventura was 0 for 5 with five strikeouts against him. It was perceived as a slight against the third baseman, who'd been playing through serious knee pain for quite some time.

Valentine could try to soothe some bruised egos and hurt feelings once the piddling matter of another elimination game was resolved. If the manager had any ideas about sitting Henderson--either for insubordination or ineffectiveness (he had only one hit so far in the series)--he scrapped them when Roger Cedeno could not start due to back spasms (he later said it felt like he had "a knife in my back", a feeling Valentine could certainly relate to). Bob Costas guessed Cedeno suffered the injury after twisting to catch a hard hit ball by Ozzie Guillen in the top of the ninth of game 4. Either that, or jumping into Mora's arms after they scored the tying and go-ahead runs.

For Atlanta, John Rocker did not look worse for wear after his blown save the night before. He celebrated his 25th birthday by continuing to spar verbally with Mets fans, calling them "subhuman" and "the worst fans in baseball". He also shagged flies in the outfield and pretended to throw them to awaiting fans in the left field stands.

Braves pitching coach Leo Mazzone was given the unenviable task of keeping Rocker out of trouble, shadowing the closer during pregame warmups. "Is this part of coaching or what?" he grumbled.

I really hoped to have my post about the epic game 5 of the 1999 NLCS ready for today's 10th anniversary. But a game as ridiculous (and long) as that one deserves more attention than I could provide in the meager time allotted to me this week. I also felt it deserved better than being posted on a Saturday, when most folks are not internetting.

But I could not let this date pass without making mention of one of the greatest games ever played. So please enjoy this pic of Robin Ventura, trotting through the raindrops as his ball sailed into the bullpen and sent the Mets back to Atlanta. Looking at it, I can almost hear Gary Cohen give his famous radio call.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

NBC's pregame intro praised the "talent and professionalism" of the Braves, and supposed a trip to the World Series would help them rightfully claim the mantle of Team of the Decade. The Mets were only mentioned to note they would likely be "swept away" (as symbolized by this graphic), which is understandable, since they'd barely made a peep during the first three games of the series. Their formerly unimpeachable gloves had failed them. Their big hitters had come up small. Their pitching had been good, holding the Braves to nine runs in the first three games, but Atlanta's had been better, with a staff ERA of 2.45.

Before the game, as the teams took batting practice, someone asked John Rocker if he could imagine changing his mind about Mets fans. "The only thing I'm changing is my clothes after I get champagne all over them tonight," he responded.

It looked like the most exciting Mets-related news of the day would come from the Queens DA office, which announced it had arrested an Elmhurst man for attempting to use eBay to sell playoff tickets "at prices exceeding the face value of $50." Back in 1999, using the internet to charge exorbitant prices for tickets was still called scalping, though nowadays it's called StubHub.

"Twelve days ago, the Mets played the Cincinnati Reds in a game that they had to win or their season was going come to an end," Gary Cohen said in his pregame remarks, "and now...they're faced with the same proposition against the Atlanta Braves here tonight."

If you wondered why few people gave the Mets a shot to extend the series (other than the way they'd played so far), the answer was John Smoltz. The previous Braves starters at least offered a glimmer of hope, insofar as they either had checkered playoff histories (Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine) or a lack of postseason experience (Kevin Millwood). Smoltz had neither. What he did have: 12 playoff wins, the most of any other pitcher at the time, and a 6-2 record in the LCS.

He also had a new delivery. To relieve shoulder pain, he'd switched to a three-quarters motion. He was almost like a completely different pitcher, and just as good as the old Smoltz. Prior to the switch, the Mets touched him up for seven runs in a game at Shea in July. But after Smoltz's adjustments, they could only scratch out one run off of him in a late September game in Atlanta (the one in which Chipper Jones singlehandedly beat them with two solo homers).

If the Mets wanted any hope it all, they could look to the calendar. Thirty years ago, on the same date, the Mets beat the Orioles 5-3 in game 5 of the World Series to complete a miraculous season and capture their first championship. For a more tangible sign, they could look to the man on the mound, Rick Reed.

After a disappointing season, Reed turned in some impressive starts down the stretch, including a 12-strikeout, complete game shutout against the Pirates, at a time when one more loss meant the end of the Mets' season. "He is back to the Rick Reed of 1997 and 1998," Cohen said in his pregame remarks, "able to throw his fastball anywhere he wants and get his curveball over." He was also the rare Mets pitcher who had some success against Atlanta (though he knocked on wood when reminded of this fact by a Daily News reporter).

Bobby Cox, of all people, seemed to think his team's success was more good fortune than anything else. "We've won a lot of games against the Mets this year," he said. "But most of the games could have gone either way...I think we've maybe outlucked them in a lot of areas."

Game 4 marked the first time in the series the Mets would not be outlucked, or outsmarted.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

The Braves appeared pretty loose as they came to Shea for game 3. During a workout the day before the game, Ryan Klesko ran out of the dugout wearing John Rocker's jersey. "I told him I'd go out there for him to see how it was," Klesko said. "I'm actually protecting our save guy. We've got a couple of first basemen."

Rocker refused to address questions from the press about his well-documented slagging of Mets fans, but when asked what he would do if called upon to save a game in enemy territory, he responded, "It will be the same situation it was last time when I got booed and then I struck out the side on 14 pitches."

Rocker's presence required some extra security; NBC reported 500 additional NYPD officers were on hand to keep the peace. In a pregame interview with Jim Gray, Rocker lamented the the necessity of such protection: "When you come here and this is the only place it happens...they're throwing batteries at you, throwing change at you, really trying to inflict bodily harm, that kind of stuff just doesn't need to go on....I just don't think it's right, and I think somebody needs to speak out and voice an opinion, that we really don't appreciate hearing those kind of things and being fearful of our safety at a simple baseball game."

I don't think any player should be physically threatened, not even John Rocker, but it was a disingenuous stance to take. He'd thrown verbal jabs at New York fans for weeks, done everything but twirl his mustache and cackle maniacally while tying Mr. Met to a railroad track, and then had the chrome-plated balls to whine about fans behaving rudely toward him. Unless you believe he was too stupid to recognize the hypocrisy of his "who, me?" act, which was certainly a possibility.

Regardless, he certainly relished the villain role, tipping his cap sarcastically as he was introduced during the pregame ceremonies. Gray reported that Rocker professed respect for the Mets as a team, but made clear "his disgust and disdain is purely for the fans here at Shea." To his credit, Bobby Cox (suddenly very pro-New York) was not pleased with Rocker's antics. "If I could apologize to their fans, I would," he told the Daily News. "I'm not supporting that behavior, no."

As for the other heel in the Mets-Braves wrestling match, Chipper Jones had said virtually nothing since the series began (nor had he done much of anything on the field, amazingly). But the fans were not about to let him forget about his "Yankee gear" comment, and they had a new weapon at their disposal.

After the Mets won the division series against Arizona, Orel Hershiser was interviewed Ed Coleman for Mets Extra. He revealed a tantalizing bit of previously obscure information: Chipper hated to be called "Larry", his given name. Mike Piazza had taken to greeting him "Hello, Larry," every time he came to the plate, because "I refuse to call a grown man 'Chipper'." Coleman suggested Mets fans keep that in mind once Larry returned to Shea. They would obey this directive with gusto.

As for the techniques of the home team itself, the Mets insisted they'd become used to playing with their backs against the wall (not that they gave themselves much choice). "The last bit of the season will help us because we went through a tough stretch and we were able to turn it around," John Olerud said. "We know we can persevere even when things don't look good."

Bobby Valentine had not acquitted himself well in the series so far. "It's as if [Cox] has been playing chess, and Valentine has been playing checkers," Bob Costas remarked. But before game 3, the Mets manager returned to a familiar theme, one he'd preached all season: You can't lose 'em all.

I think things eventually even out. Balls that hit the foul pole miss the foul pole. Against the Diamondbacks we had the bases loaded and hit it over the fence and it turned. We haven't had that turn in this series yet. It's not like there's a defeatist attitude and we're up against an immovable object. We've been pushing a long time and it's moving slowly. When it starts moving, then sometimes it's an unstoppable motion.

Things would get better for the Mets. But they'd get worse first.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

October 13, 1999: Braves 4, Mets 3

If game 1 was doomed by miscues on the field, then the outcome of game 2 was sealed by mistakes in the dugout. Bobby Valentine made decisions (and one glaring lack of decision) that cost the game for the Mets. And when he didn't err, he was simply outsmarted by Bobby Cox.

Game 2 had a 4 pm start, to accommodate the first game of the ALCS (which, hard as it is to believe now, would also be the first ever playoff meeting between the Red Sox and Yankees). It was another dreary, cloudy day, as if to mirror the Mets' mood and chances. Rain hit Atlanta for much of the day, but cleared up sufficiently to allow the game to start in time. The Mets would have been happier if it hadn't.

The starter for Atlanta: Kevin Millwood, their best and most consistent starter in 1999. Millwood posted a record of 18-7, 205 strikeouts, a 2.87 ERA, and an opposing batting average of .202, best in the majors. In his last 10 regular season starts, Millwood went 6-0 with an ERA of 1.29. He engaged Masato Yoshii in a pitchers' duel in the last regular season game between the Mets and the Braves, a loss that nearly doomed their season.

Oh, and he'd just pitched a complete game one-hitter against the Astros in the NLDS, the first since Bob Gibson in 1967.

In other words, things wouldn't get easier for the Mets any time soon. Edgardo Alfonzo continued his hot hitting with a one-out single in the top of the first, but Millwood dispatched of John Olerud and Mike Piazza with two fly balls to center.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

The Mets had almost three days off in between game 4 of the NLDS and the start of the championship series in Atlanta. But they began their assault on the Braves almost as soon as Todd Pratt's home run cleared the center field fence at Shea. Their barrage was of the verbal variety. No Met was shy about expressing their opinion of the division champs.

It was a cavalier attitude, to say the least, considering Atlanta had their way with the Mets at every turn during the regular season. Perhaps their reversal of fortune since the last time they faced Chipper Jones and company caused them to believe they were bulletproof. Perhaps, whipped into a frenzy by a New York press corps with dreams of a Subway Series, they were already looking past the Braves. Whatever the reason, the word hubris had disappeared from their vocabulary.

"I thought I had heard that [the Braves] were shocked and surprised that we weren't in," Al Leiter said after the Mets' series-clinching game 4 victory. "They must be really shocked and surprised now."

"I think it'll be even more special once we beat the Braves," Turk Wendell said. "Just because of everything we've gone through this year and last year." Regarding Chipper's comments, "All I have to say is he stuck his foot in his mouth. He's going to have to deal with it every game. He's going to have to deal with the fans."

"One thing that we've got to remember is the fact that they are supposed to beat us," Darryl Hamilton said. "And they [the Braves] said that. The last time we played Atlanta they were talking about the ghost [the Mets], playing the Yankees. And all the Mets fans should go get their Yankees stuff."

Not surprisingly, the most inflammatory words came from Bobby Valentine. He'd already landed in hot water for admitting he voted for Bobby Cox for manager of the year "because he had to manage this year." (Valentine insisted there was a "really" in the statement that his interviewer missed.)

Now he told The New York Times, "We were supposed to be dead, right? Our fans were supposed to change gear. They're supposed to be watching football." Regarding Chipper Jones' infamous 'Yankee gear' comment, "It was a premature statement and an incorrect statement. I think he was very confident he wouldn't have to deal with the fans again this year. Guess what, he's going to have to deal with them again this year." And regarding the Braves' opinion of the Mets:

We have great respect for them. I think we still have to earn our respect. They've shown us very little. There's been a lot of comments. If the comments and actions they've made over the years were in New York, as a New York team, they'd be well-known and documented. A lot has slipped by....I don't want to get into specifics. We know it and those who have been watching know it. We'll just go on to earn our respect.

For the most part, the Braves kept quiet, said all the right things, and declined to talk any smack about the Mets. Even John Rocker had compliments for them, backhanded though they were: "I'm really shocked to see how they had to squeak into the playoffs with a one-game playoff. I thought they would beat us out for the division, just looking on paper, at talent, theirs versus ours."

Perhaps because the head-to-head record spoke for itself ("We're not at this level for nothing," Brian Jordan said). Perhaps because they'd been to the playoffs so many times, they found it hard to get excited about the whole affair, even against a supposed hated rival. Perhaps because the press in Atlanta was more provincial and supportive, as opposed to the headline-hungry scribes of New York's back pages. Or perhaps because the Braves successfully avoided the media altogether; according to the NBC announcing crew, Chipper Jones refused all interview requests in the days prior to game 1.

Regardless of the reason, the Braves refused to be drawn into a war of words. Bobby Cox went so far as to profess ignorance of the Mets' comments. In a pregame interview with sideline reporter Jim Gray, when asked about his opponents' comments, Cox said, "I haven't read any of it, Jim, to be honest."

Incredulously, Gray pressed him, "But certainly you've heard it?"

"Not much of it," Cox said, with a straight face. He sounded much more excited about a quail hunting trip he'd go on with Ted Turner, contingent on the Braves reaching the World Series.

On the other side, Valentine looked distracted and distant when interviewed by Craig Sager. He didn't exactly back off his comments, but he didn't exactly deny them either. He didn't exactly say much of anything, mouthing the usual "we gotta play hard" platitudes, as if he had a gun to his back and a directive to not say anything remotely interesting, lest he tempt the Baseball Fates even further.

The Mets did an excellent job of portraying themselves as the cocky upstarts, and the Braves played their role as the seasoned professionals. New York as Tanner Boyle, telling Atlanta where they could stick all their division trophies.

The Braves seemed less concerned by the Mets (at least outwardly) and more concerned with the label of Team of the Decade. Or rather, the question of whether or not they deserved such a label. They'd won the division title and gone to the league championship series every year since 1991. Despite all that success, they'd won only one World Series, causing some to consider them really, good and not great. "It's easy to win when you're not supposed to," said John Smoltz in response (it is?). "It's harder to keep doing it. Nobody can take anything away from us...Who cares if we're the team of the decade or not? They're going to forget these 10 years some day. All we care about is that we've got a chance to win again."

In his pregame remarks on NBC, Joe Morgan surmised the Mets' thoughts thusly: "I think the Mets know they have a good enough ball club to beat the Braves. They just have to play good fundamental baseball and not make mistakes." He also said it was "important for the Mets to go after Chipper Jones right away".

I present such obvious statements because, on paper, the former was much more doable than the latter. Chipper hit .400 against the Mets in 1999, with 7 home runs and 16 RBIs, so going after him was easier said than done. Mistakes should have been simple to avoid for a team with an historically low rate of committing errors.

But the opposite would turn out to be true. For the most part, Mets pitchers would limit Chippers' ability to do damage throughout the series. It was errors, miscues, and all manner of mistakes that would undo them, particularly in the first three games.

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a tad obsessed with the 1999 Mets. But I also have to admit, I didn't not get to see them in person many times. Not more than twice, and I my usually steeltrap brain can't recall any specific details from my trips to Shea that year. Shameful to admit, but true.

I also didn't get to go to any playoff games--those I surely would have remembered. As I've explained before, it didn't even occur to me at the time that I would be allowed to go to a playoff game. As if it was some sweet nectar reserved for only the very privileged.

But this week I received a communique from a friend who attended game 4 of the NLDS. I'm posting it here, complete and unedited, because not only is it a great first-hand account of the majesty and insanity of that game, but it also captures exactly why that team means so much to me. This comes from TheWhiteBoomBoom, longtime friend and frequent commenter in these parts. (He asked to be identified as "longtime friend and former lover," but I said no. Ooops...)

Reading the last week or two of the 1999 Project has been awesome, mostly because I've found myself being totally thrilled by each win (or devastated by the loses), despite knowing exactly how the whole thing plays out.  I'm pretty sure I was going through the exact same thing at home, listening/watching the games, or more likely, catching the recaps on the news, since at the time I worked a job that usually got me home at about 11 pm.

 

Those last few weeks were a little overshadowed for me, though, as on September 27th of that year, my father passed away.  My father took me to my first baseball game when I was an infant, and even tried to catch a bare handed foul ball with me in his other arm (he didn't go dashing or leaning over a railing for it or anything...he wasn't THAT irresponsible.)  Some of my earliest memories were of he and I, sitting in our driveway during the summer, listening to the Pirates play on a little transistor radio.  I remember when he explained to me what "the 3-2 pitch" actually meant.

 

My friends, who had converted me to being a Mets fan in the summer of 1998, called me when those playoffs started and said that they got tickets to game four of the NLDS and they wanted me to come.  My job paid me by the hour, and since I had just taken a week off to be with my family for the services, I was pretty broke.  They said not to worry, they would take care of it.  It was one of the best gifts anyone had given me.

 

The game was insane.  Our group were all lifelong Mets fans, who had waited in the big crazy line to get those tickets.  None of those corporate gifts for us.

 

The youngest of our group spent the entire game sitting, his hands folded in front of his mouth, staring at the field like he was trying to explode someone's head like in Scanners.  The only time he did anything was a short burst of clapping when the Mets got a hit or a strikeout.  I could tell he wouldn't feel relieved until the last out of the ninth. 

 

Which means Alan probably got an ulcer before his 20th birthday, because OF COURSE the game went into extra innings.  It felt like the last 3 weeks had nothing but extra innings.

 

I remember when the final score of the Braves game showed on the scoreboard, and the fans started a chant saying, "We want the Braves!"  Dom turned to me and said, "Umm, no we don't."

 

Anyway, up comes Todd Pratt.  And man, he nails that ball absolutely dead center.  The whole place stands up and waits, because while it seemed to have shot off his bat, Steve Finley had been an animal in center that whole series.  Maybe it's time clouding my memory, but I remember him stealing several hits, not to mention a few leaps up the wall that turned should-have-been home runs into depressing outs. 

 

And there he was again, jumping against that wall, about to steal the game winning home run in the 11th inning, in what had been an exhausting few weeks for Mets fans.  The whole stadium is on it's feet, waiting, staring, dead silent, for what feels like an eternity while Finley lands, to find out if he did his magic again.  He lands, we're all holding our breath, and he turns to the infield, and just shakes his head no. 

 

I have never seen such an eruption of unadulterated joy by so many people due to one man's failure in my life.  My friends and I literally jumped on each other, over our seats, bruises be damned. 

 

My friends dropped me off somewhere in Williamsburg, and I all told them that I couldn't thank them enough, and that they would never realize how much it meant to me that they took me to that game.  I know I got a little misty eyed in the back of the car, but I was able to keep it in check in front of my friends.  I won't be so schmaltzy to say that it was my dad that kept that ball out of Finley's glove that afternoon.  I couldn't help but think, however, of those times he spent with me teaching me about baseball, and that I was so glad he had given me that gift, because I was now able to enjoy a few moments of absolute joy, in the face of that crushing pain.

 

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Before, during, and after game 3, everyone connected with the Mets held out hope that Mike Piazza's thumb would miraculously heal somehow and allow him to return in game 4. That proved to be a pipe dream, and for the second straight game, Todd Pratt would catch in his place. During his pregame remarks, Gary Cohen said Bobby Valentine told him "Mike might, might be able to pinch hit, but it seems unlikely we will see him again in this series".

Piazza said later the team told him to rest up, and get ready for the NLCS (not that they had much choice, since he couldnt bend his thumb). They needed one more win to get there, of course, and the man charged with getting them there was Al Leiter. Despite having a so-so season, the lefty had won some of the season's most important games. He ended an eight-game losing streak with eight great innings at Yankee Stadium, he ended a seven-game slide at the end of September by beating the Braves, and he went the distance in game 163 to launch the Mets into the playoffs.

Leiter pronounced himself ready for another challenge. The Jersey native, who grew up a Mets fan, relished the thought of finishing up this series in front of the home town crowd. He also had no issue throwing to Pratt instead of Piazza. His best start of the season--with 15 Ks against the Cubs--came with Pratt behind the plate.

He even threw some backhanded compliments to the backup backstop. "This is not a knock," he told the Daily News, "but obviously [Pratt] doesn't have the same career numbers as Mike, so he really takes that much more pride in catching a good ballgame. He really wants to catch a good game, and if Todd ends up getting some knocks, great."

For his part, Pratt didn't need to be told he wasn't in Piazza's offensive league. Like many backup catchers, his career had been one of ups and downs--mostly downs. After bouncing around several organizations, he wound up on the Phillies, and even made it on the postseason roster for the 1993 team that went to the World Series, though he would only get one at-bat in the playoffs.

After being released by the Mariners in 1996, he worked at Bucky Dent's Baseball Academy for a while, then managed a Domino's franchise . "If I had to go back to it, I could," he told reporters who asked him about it. "There's nothing wrong with managing a pizza parlor."

The Mets rescued him from such a fate, and sent him to the minors. He hit his way out of triple-A Norfolk in 1997, though found himself back in the minors in 1998 when the Mets acquired catcher Jorge Fabregas. But Pratt was back in the bigs before the season was out, and spent all of 1999 as Piazza's backup, a position akin to that of the Maytag repairman.

He knew his role and had no complaints about it. How could he? He was just grateful to be along for the ride. "I'm not Mike," Pratt said after game 3, in case anyone was confused. "Nobody is in that league. He generates a lot of power and intimidation in the middle of the order."

But for one at-bat on October 9, 1999, being Todd Pratt was more than enough. Much like the lyrics of the David Bowie song that played in ESPN's division series bumpers (well, a very bad cover of a Bowie song, anyway): he'd be a hero, just for one day.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

The Mets prepared to play the first playoff game at Shea in 11 years, and their first playoff game in the bright lights of prime time (after playing the first two games in the wee hours, New York time). For one night, the coverage switched over the NBC and the much more prestigious (and competent) play-by-play stylings of Bob Costas. Which reminds me: I wish the MLB Network (or somebody, anybody) would use Costas for play-by-play duties again. I'm not a huge fan of his in other contexts, but as a game caller, he's one of the best, and there is a dearth of national baseball broadcasters who don't totally blow these days.

On what should have been a joyous occasion for the team and its fans, the Mets were beset by dual obstacles: one an annoying distraction, the other a serious impediment to their playoff hopes.

The distraction came in the form of leaked material from an upcoming Sports Illustrated interview with Bobby Valentine, which included quotes from the manager taken during the Mets' disastrous trip to Philadelphia in September. Which quotes were the most inflammatory? Take your pick.

Perhaps it was his description of his team: "You're not dealing with real professionals in the clubhouse; you're not dealing with real intelligent guys." Or his dismissal of a players-only meeting held at Veterans Stadium that weekend: "There's about five guys in there right now who basically are losers, who are seeing if they can recruit." Or his dis of rival skippers: "A lot of managers fear that some day they'll have to be on a panel with me and be exposed." (He also said he feared the influence Bobby Bonilla had on the team, but that was hardly controversial. If anything, it was an opinion shared by everyone connected with the team not named Bobby Bonilla.)

Players' reactions ranged from muted disappointment to dismissal to eye-rolling. One unnamed Met told the Daily News, "Guys care about what's in here and doing what we have to do for ourselves. We don't care about what the manager says." Valentine's pregame response: "If the shoe fits, wear it. If it doesn't, don't worry about it."

No matter what any player said to the press, the whole sordid affair was far too reminiscent of the dysfunctional atmosphere that surrounded the club at the beginning of the season. Not to mention, they had one much bigger thing to worry about.

Back in April, the Mets' home opener was soured by the absence of Mike Piazza, who was on the DL with a sprained knee. Their first home playoff game opened on a similar down note. Piazza took a shot to his left thumb in game 2, aggravating an injury he sustained on a foul tip from Ron Gant in a game against the Phillies in September. The catcher got x-rays, which showed no break, so he took a cortisone shot in the hopes of a speedy recovery. 

Unfortunately, the cortisone shot resulted in a rare allergic reaction that caused his thumb to swell up even more, to the point where he couldn't bend it at all. So three hours before game time, Piazza was a surprise scratch from the lineup. The good news, if there could be any when losing your most powerful offensive threat, was that the extra time off would help him rest the myriad of injuries sustained during a year behind the plate. His shoulders and knees were also in some serious pain. Before the thumb flared up, he said he planned to spend the day bathed in ice.

Piazza had been playing with a banged-up thumb for weeks, without complaint, because every game was so important for the Mets. And yet, because he rarely vocalized his aches and pains, and because of his mellow nature, many sportswriters found him inscrutable and not "leadership material".

After he professed himself happy to escape Phoenix with a split of the first two games (an attitude evidently shared with many of his teammates), an incredulous Mark Kriegel wrote in the Daily News, "He grew up outside Philadelphia...[b]ut Piazza's persona remains that of the laid-back Californian. Sometimes you wonder if he'd rather play drums than baseball."

Now Piazza would not be playing baseball, as Kriegel suspected he preferred, and the Mets would have to find a way to win this game (and possibly more) without him. In a local pregame show for NBC-4, GM Steve Phillips told Len Berman he was "pretty confident" Piazza would play in game 4, but that was more a hope than a diagnosis. Valentine said Piazza could possibly pinch hit, though it would have to be an emergency situation. What would constitute an emergency?

"Orel [Hershiser] at the bat rack in the 14th inning," he said.

With or without him, the Mets were not sitting pretty just because they were back at Shea. The Diamondbacks were no pushover on the road, compiling a 29-10 away record after the All Star break, the best in baseball.

If it was any consolation, backup catcher Todd Pratt had played well in Piazza's absence earlier in the year, batting .319 and hit three homers while he was on the shelf in April. With lefty starter Omar Daal on the mound for Arizona, Benny Agbayani would bat cleanup in his place.

Diamondbacks manager refused to look past Pratt, even if everyone else did. Presciently, he said, "I have known Todd Pratt for a long time with the Red Sox [Pratt was in the Boston organization in late 80s/early 90s]. He has always been a guy that has been able to rise to the occasion. I am sure they would like to have Mike in there, but it doesn't preclude them from winning a game and from Todd Pratt having a big game for them."

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

October 6, 1999: Diamondbacks 7, Mets 1

Ever since the month of October began, the Mets had been on a roll, sustained by luck, determination, and at times pure adrenaline. Such a run had to end some time, and that time came in game two of the NLDS. The breaks that had been going their way suddenly did not for one night.

Coincidentally or not, this reversal of fortune happened with Kenny Rogers on the mound. The lefty was all but run out of New York for his postseason struggles with the Yankees, which is why so many people were surprised the Mets traded for him in the first place. Some of Rogers' starts with the Mets following the trade dispelled the notion that he couldn't win in a big spot. This one did not.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Now that the Mets actually made the postseason, Bobby Valentine could finalize his postseason roster. There were two surprising inclusions: Bobby Bonilla, who'd been as ineffective as he'd been unpopular all year, and Melvin Mora, a September callup with only 31 major league at bats (even though one of those at bats was pretty significant). Not chosen: backup shortstop Luis Lopez and Bobby Jones, who'd been a fixture in the Mets' starting rotation for years but was injured much of the season.

The Mets were late to qualify for the playoffs, and now they would be late to start them. Game one of their division series against the Diamondbacks was scheduled for 11 pm New York time, preventing the younger fans from watching and irking the older ones. With all the drama and locations they'd been through in the last few days, Chris Berman (given play-by-play duties for the ESPN broadcast, and only slightly more tolerable 10 years ago than he is now) wondered, "Do the Mets know what time zone they're in, and more importantly, do they care?" (Answer, according to sideline reporter Buck Martinez: No, and no.)

The late start accommodated the local time, the whims of the networks, and the full schedule of playoff games. Earlier in the day, the Astros stunned the Braves by beating Greg Maddux in Atlanta to take game one of their series. Then, the Yankees started their postseason the same way they did in 1998: by pasting the Rangers in the Bronx yet again.

This marked the first playoff game for the Mets since the seventh game of the disappointing NLCS in 1988. They were shut out 6-0 by current Met Orel Hershiser in the series clincher, then spent 11 years in the wilderness.

This also marked the first playoff game ever for the Diamondbacks, a team who spent big in their sophomore season and got immediate returns. The team was not just led by manager Buck Showalter, but crafted by it as well. Showalter had been with the team since its prenatal stages, and there was not a single move the team made without his knowledge (and at least tacit approval). He availed himself of this privilege quite often; in the team's second year, only nine members from the freshman squad remained on the roster.

Showalter was pitted as the anti-Bobby Valentine. Most newspapers covering the series used words like businesslike to describe him. Other frequently used adjectives included gritty, methodical, workaholic, blue collar. They noted how Showalter had been ejected only once all year, much fewer times than his hotheaded couterpart on the Mets. However, Buck was quick to point out that he admired Valentine, calling him "a great baseball mind". An opposing manager complimenting Valentine, even begrudgingly, was rare.

Arizona's free spending ways required a rather large infusion of capital from their investors, prompting immediate comparisons to the 1997 Marlins, who won a championship on the backs of free agents, then immediately sold them all off. Owner Jerry Colangelo assured the public that would not be the case, insisting the additional funds "will put our house in order for the next two years. With the contracts we've signed, we are set to compete for four years, and nothing has changed our attitude about that."

Not everyone was convinced. Despite the acquisition of some big time players, the Diamondbacks saw season ticket sales fall from their inaugural season. The New York Times noted that Arizona had "the distinction of being the only team in any sport to draw fewer spectators finishing first than it did the previous year finishing last." Even third baseman Matt Williams was forced to admit, "They're not rabid fans." The Diamondbacks' rise to the top was so meteoric that local newspapers had to instruct fans what to do at a playoff game, prompting much ridicule from grizzled New York scribes.

Whether or not the locals noticed, Arizona had quite a year. They did not coast to the end, either, winning 21 of their last 27 games and finishing with 100 victories. Williams had an MVP-caliber season, driving in 142 runs. Luis Gonzalez emerged from nowhere to become a monstrous slugger. Jay Bell rebounded from a lackluster 1998 to lead the team with 38 homers. Tony Womack led the league with 72 steals. Closer Matt Mantei was acquired from the Marlins midseason and shored up the team's one weakness, its bullpen.

But the biggest acquisition of all--in more ways than one--was Randy Johnson, the 6'10" southpaw ace. Ten years later, it can be hard to remember just how dominant he was. His mediocre stint with the Yankees, combined with his twilight years back in Arizona and San Francisco, is fresher in most people's minds than the prime of his career. But in 1999, Randy Johnson was at the height of his powers.

He led the league in ERA, innings pitched, and strikeouts, with the fourth highest single-season K total of all time (364). He averaged 12.1 strikeouts per nine innings, and had conquered the wildness of his early years to limit himself to 2.1 walks per nine innings. He pitched 12 complete games. He held opposing hitters to a .208 batting average. For lefties, it was even worse: he allowed a grand total of nine hits to left-handed batters all season. Much like Pedro Martinez, Johnson's stats were even more impressive considering the offensive explosion taking place in baseball at the time.

Only his win-loss record was less than stellar (17-9), but as is often the case with aces, that was more of a reflection on his offense. In one five-start midsummer stretch, Johnson pitched to a 1.18 ERA and wound up losing four games because the Diamondbacks were held to just two runs.

But his magic seemed to run out in the postseason. After winning game five of the 1995 ALDS against the Yankees, he lost five playoff games in a row. However, that too was often due to lack of support. In his brief stint with the Astros in 1998, he pitched two games in the division series against the Padres, gave up three earned runs total, and lost both of them.

Still, if given a choice, few teams would want to oppose Johnson in the playoffs, particularly in a best-of-five series, where you might have to face him twice. As Gary Cohen noted in his pregame remarks on WFAN, "There are no Mets who have had any degree of success against Randy Johnson." Only Rickey Henderson had much of a history against him at all, good or bad. The rest of the team had either spent most of their careers in the NL while Johnson pitched for Seattle, or were lefty batters who sat down when he pitched (such as Robin Ventura and John Olerud).

The Mets had seen Johnson only once in 1999 and were shellacked 10-1. The Mets' starter that day: Masato Yoshii, who would start this game as well. After an up and down year, Yoshii was excellent down the stretch, going 5-1 in his last eight starts with a miniscule 1.61 ERA. Still, it would be a tall order to subdue the potent Arizona offense. And it would be just as difficult for his own offense to get to Randy Johnson.

Bobby Valentine did not seem worried, telling Jeff Pearlman of Sports Illustrated, "I don't think our guys are intimidated by anything."

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

For the second straight season, MLB would have a one-game playoff to decide the winner of the wild card. In 1998, the Mets could have been a part of that playoff--or made the playoff unnecessary by winning the wild card outright. They were not able to do either, as everyone reminded them all year. But in 1999, they pulled themselves back from the brink of disaster, and now they found themselves in Cincinnati for a winner-take-all contest at Cinergy Field (formerly known as Riverfront Stadium).

The game was originally scheduled for a 2:05 start, but was moved up to 7 in the evening to accommodate the bleary-eyed Reds. They waited out a five hour, 47 minute rain delay in Milwaukee, all the while knowing they had to win to keep their season alive. Much like the Mets, they rallied after a near collapse.

Unlike the Mets, the Reds had few expectations placed on them at the beginning of the year. All they had was a meager $33 million payroll and no real superstars, save maybe team captain Barry Larkin. They shocked baseball by not only being competitive throughout the season, but remaining in playoff picture. They got hot in September, threatening the postseason plans of both the Mets and the Astros, before stumbling against the Brewers in the final weekend.

The Reds' manager, Jack McKeon, was much older and much more old school than the Mets' skipper. His team did not celebrate on the field once they finally defeated the Brewers in the last scheduled game of the year. ("What were we going to celebrate?" he asked. "We didn't win anything.") But he was fond of trying Bobby V-style gamesmanship. In their head-to-head meetings, McKeon twice pointed out some obscure technicality to the umpires, forcing a Mets pitcher to change his uniform or some piece of equipment (and thoroughly annoying Valentine).

He also had one more glaring similarity with Bobby Valentine. In 11 seasons of managing, which included stints in Kansas City, Oakland, and San Diego, McKeon had never managed in the postseason.

Someone's unfortunate streak would end here.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

As Greg Prince recently pointed out at Faith and Fear in Flushing, October 3 is a significant date in baseball history. There have been quite a few memorable games played that day, from the last games of the 1993 season (sometimes called The Last Great Pennant Race) to game 4 of the 2003 NLDS, to date the only playoff series to end on an out at home plate.

But the biggest, craziest, and most famous October 3 game happened in 1951. As late as August 11 of that year, the Dodgers led the Giants by 13 games. But Brooklyn stumbled, the Giants surged, and the two teams ended the year tied for first place, prompting a three-game playoff to determine the winner of the National League pennant.

After splitting the first two games, the Dodgers led the Giants in the decisive third game, 4-1, as they went to bottom of the ninth at the Polo Grounds. But Brooklyn starter Don Newcombe faltered, giving up back-to-back singles to start the inning, then a one-out RBI double to make the score 4-2. Dodgers manager Chuck Dressen (who'd already made a few curious decisions down the stretch, including ceding home field advantage in the playoff series) went to his bullpen and brought in Ralph Branca to secure the final two outs.

Branca would only get two pitches. Slugger Bobby Thompson took his 0-1 offering and deposited into the left field grandstand for a walkoff three-run homer, forever known thereafter as The Shot Heard 'Round the World. Radio man Russ Hodges entered the canon of famous sports calls by screaming in disbelief, THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!

The Giants had just completed a monumental comeback. The Dodgers had just completed a monumental collapse. A heartbreaking photo appeared in the papers next day, showing Branca slumped forward on the clubhouse steps, paralyzed by guilt and grief, knowing he was the architect of yet another Brooklyn choke job.

Branca would have a decent career, but would never truly live down his role in the Dodgers' slide, and would not be on the team when Brooklyn finally won a World Series in 1955. Years later, his daughter Mary married a promising prospect for the now-Los Angeles Dodgers: Bobby Valentine.

Much like Branca, Valentine's playing career hadn't gone the way he hoped. Nor had his managerial career; he'd captained the Rangers and the Mets for a combined 1,713 games and still not made the postseason. On October 3, 1999, Valentine hoped to lead his own team past a dismal, late-season slide. With a win, they could erase all the doubts and frustrations that had plagued them in September.

On Saturday, as Rick Reed shut down the Pirates, he attended mass and lit a candle for St. Anthony, the patron saint of miracles. On Sunday, Branca arrived at Shea in the sixth inning to cheer on Valentine and the Mets, hoping they could redeem the date in some way.

"October 3 owed one to the family," he said.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

October 2, 1999: Mets 7, Pirates 0

While the Mets prepared for the middle game of their series with the Pirates, art-lovers and curious souls lined up at the Brooklyn Museum to get their first view of "The Holy Virgin Mary", a controversial mixed-media piece by Chris Ofili that had drawn the ire of Mayor Giuliani (Hizzoner's main objection was that the mixed media included elephant dung). The debate over the artwork's offensiveness (or lack thereof) had reached such a fevered pitch that it was now protected by a plexiglass shield and two guards.

Most people who actually bothered to go see the painting couldn't fathom what the fuss was all about. Like Karen Masterson, who, despite being Catholic, didn't find it offensive at all, and laughed at the small group of protestors handing out barf bags outside the museum. She availed herself of the free product anyway.

"We can use it later, when the Mets lose," she said.

Such was the attitude of many Mets fans, after a string of nine games that had all but destroyed their season. But an inspiring (if slim) win on Friday night, combined with losses by Houston and Cincinnati, brought them only one game out of the playoff picture. Despite all the wounds they suffered down the stretch, the Mets were knocking on the door of the postseason.

Before the game on Friday, there seemed to be no hope whatsoever. Now, writers like Jack Curry of The New York Times wondered if everything was breaking their way after all.

How stunning would it be if the Mets wriggled into the post-season after the mess they caused by losing eight of their last nine? Almost as stunning as mishandling the four-game bulge they had in the wild-card race on Sept. 21. If the Mets win the wild card, they can laugh about the last two weeks. But those chuckles are at least 48 long hours away....

Before [Friday's] victory, Piazza sheepishly mentioned that the Mets were not mathematically eliminated yet, and their chances improved last night. Someone reminded Piazza that the Mets could erase their pain with a memorable weekend and he mused, ''If the planets are lined up the right way, I guess that could happen.'' Last night, they were perfectly aligned for the Mets. Finally.

The team's fortunes had careened in so many directions in so little time that Rafael Hermoso of the Daily News provided a brief timeline of events of the last week, just so readers could keep track.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Over the final weekend of the regular season, Filip Bondy wrote in the Daily News of the sad tale of Famous Fixins. In the midst of the Mets' hot summer, the company decided to produce 250,000 boxes of Amazin' Mets cereal. (They also produced a Derek Jeter-themed version.) Making a quarter of a million of anything is a risky proposition, even more so if your product's appeal hinges on the continued success of a sports team.

When the Mets cereal deal was first brokered, the team's playoff chances seemed a sure thing. Now, as October dawned and the boxes began hitting the shelves, making the postseason was a longshot.

"Let's just say I would have liked to be out with the stuff two weeks earlier," said Famous Fixins spokesman Michael Simon.

The Mets must have wished they could've ended their season two weeks earlier, when they were still in striking distance of the NL East lead. Now, with three games to play, they were two games out of the playoff picture. Cincinnati and Houston were ahead of them, tied for first in the NL Central. Whichever team didn't win the division would likely win the wild card, because they controlled their own destinies, and the Mets did not.

The Mets' only remaining fight of the year might be against the league office. Following Bobby Valentine's lead, GM Steve Phillips complained to the National League head office that umpire Phil Cuzzi (who manned home plate in the series finale against Atlanta) wouldn't get help from the corner umps on check-swing calls.

For the moment, the Mets were still mathematically alive, hanging on to playoff hopes by the slimmest of margins. All they had to was sweep their last series of the year, and hope for some help from out of town. Standing in their way: the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

On Monday, the Mets got a much needed off day and some more bad news. The surging Reds won yet again, which put them 1.5 games ahead of the Mets in the wild card lead. It also tied Cincinnati with idle Houston for the lead in the NL Central, thus throwing another wrinkle into the Mets' playoff hopes.

The Mets now had not one, but two rivals for the wild card, which created a myriad of ways they could make the playoffs--or miss them entirely. No one needed to be reminded of the three-way wild card race of 1998 (a race that wouldn't have happened if the Mets had managed to win two games down the stretch).

To begin their last homestand of the year, the Mets welcomed the same Braves team that had demolished them in Atlanta a week before. But it was also a Braves team that had already clinched the NL East (thanks to their sweep of Montreal while the Mets were being swept in Philly). The Mets could always hope the Braves' sense of urgency had waned. Then again, they'd be throwing Tom Glavine, Greg Maddux, and Kevin Millwood, pitchers the Mets had scored a grand total of seven runs against all season.

Bobby Valentine hoped the off day would rejuvenate his team. "When I'm on the slopes, I say that fatigue makes cowards of all of us," Valentine told The New York Times. "That's what mental fatigue is. You can't concentrate enough because you're physically tired."

Another manager agreed. Valentine spent his off-day shooting an airline commercial with Joe Torre at Newark Airport. In between takes, Torre cautioned Bobby V, noting that "My cancer was stress-related."

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

September 24, 1999: Phillies 3, Mets 2

After a damaging and occasionally embarrassing sweep in Atlanta, the Mets headed to Philadelphia. The Phillies had a miserable end to their year, going 4-24 in the month prior to this series. Just before the Mets took on the Braves, they'd taken two out of three from the Phillies at Shea. Curt Schilling and Scott Rolen were both shut down for the year, and the team had almost no other stars to speak of.

In other words, the Phillies should have been just what the doctor ordered.The Mets should have been able to right their ship with a series win against a lowly team and stop the whispers that they were doomed to choke away a playoff spot, just like last year's team.

But that, they say, is why they play the games.

Despite venturing north, the Mets still seemed to have their heads in Atlanta. Several unnamed players suspected that Chipper Jones was tipped off to their pitch selection, thus explaining his four home runs in three games against the Mets. The fact that he was having a monster year, and hitting home runs against everyone, was not mentioned.

Bobby Valentine called Chipper's ability to hit home runs off of his team "uncanny", but neither he nor anyone else would go on record with the pitch-tipping accusations. It indicated the disturbing extent to which the Braves in general (and Chipper in particular) were in the Mets' heads.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

As I wrote on this site recently, I've tried to be objective when compiling the 1999 Project. I wanted it to be a celebration of that Mets team and not a means for me to air grievances or give vent to my prejudices (except for my feeling that Steve Phillips should be waterboarded, which I've made zero attempt to disguise). But when it comes to the Braves, that is impossible for me. So I'll just throw this out there and not try and pretend otherwise: I hate them.

I hate the Braves. I truly hate them. They might be the only thing I truly, genuinely hate. Like a lot of people, I use the word 'hate' way too often--particularly on this site--when what I really mean is that I dislike something/someone a lot. Hate is a strong word, and an ugly word. I would go so far as to say I don't actually hate anyone or anything. Except for the Braves. God, I hate them.

It bubbles up every time I see them, even though these are not the Braves of ten years ago. The only remaining strands to connect that team with the team of 2009 are Chipper Jones and Bobby Cox. They even have one player I kind of like, Brian McCann (there's something endearing about a slugging catcher forced to wear glasses).

But I went to the last Mets/Braves game of the year this week, and there were a few Atlanta fans in attendance at CitiField. Seeing that 'A' hat, hearing them cheer for Chipper Jones, watching them do their idiotic/unoriginal/racist Tomahawk Chop, I felt boiling up within me all this anger and resentment and...hate. Just pure, undiluted hate.

I don't hate any other team. There's a few individual players I dislike on the Phillies, but I don't hate the team (even if its fanbase makes me want to hate them). I have no respect for the Marlins (either as a team or an organization), but I don't hate them. I'd prefer to not hear about the MAJESTY and TRADITION of the Yankees all the time (which is impossible if you live in New York, or watch ESPN), but I don't hate them--even if, like Philly, their fanbase contains a large number of eminently hateable people. I have negative feelings toward some other teams for various stupid reasons, but I don't hate them.

Only the Braves stir up this feeling within me. Only when I see Braves players high-fiving each other in the dugout do I think to myself, Jesus, I wanna slap every one of their faces.

This feeling is so deeply ingrained within me that I can't remember ever not feeling this way. It wasn't until I embarked on this project, and examined the documentary evidence available to me, that I realized the Mets and Braves weren't always mortal enemies.

For most of the 1999 season, even as the two teams juggled between first and second place, there was no rivalry speak of. The Mets complimented the Braves on their success. The Braves admitted the Mets were a team to be reckoned with. Mets fans wanted to beat the Braves because it meant the team could win the NL East. They didn't want to literally beat the Braves with blunt instruments.

Before the season was out, this would change. And it began with this series in Atlanta.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

September 17, 1999: Phillies 8, Mets 5

The Mets returned from their last West Coast trip of the year one game out of first, three games ahead in the wild card race, and a showdown in Atlanta looming on the horizon. Bobby Valentine and Steve Phillips got good news when co-owner Fred Wilpon assured them both they'd return in 2000. That prompted some rare praise for Valentine from the GM (and a partially sarcastic reaction by the manager, when told of said praise).

Before the Mets could challenge the Braves head-on, they had a brief series at Shea against the Phillies. This was their first meeting since the Mets completed a thrilling ninth inning comeback against Curt Schilling way back in May. At that time, the Phils still owned a respectable record, but injuries had taken their toll in the ensuing months. Prior to this series, the team shut down Schilling and third baseman Scott Rolen for the year. But the Mets swore they wouldn't overlook the Phillies. "We know Philadelphia is going to be out for us," John Franco told the Daily News.

It certainly looked that way in game one, when the Phils touched up Al Leiter for three first inning runs, tacked on two more in the fourth, and cruised the rest of the way. Philly did some inadvertent damage to the Mets' most dangerous weapon, when Mike Piazza took a blow off his throwing hand from a Ron Gant foul tip and had to leave the game. The injury would plague him, on and off, for the rest of the year.

Todd Pratt took over in his absence and hit a two-run single in the ninth that made this game look closer than it really was. Rookie Randy Wolf baffled the Mets, striking out 11, thus beginning his inexplicable history of success against the team. "The Randy on the hill mowing down batters last night at Shea Stadium was named Wolf, not Johnson," Frank Isola wrote in the News. "The Mets were never quite able to make that distinction."

Also among the wounded: Shawon Dunston, who made a great diving catch in the fifth, but came down hard, suffered "mild whiplash", and left the game once the inning was over.

Down in Atlanta, Chipper Jones hit a walkoff homer in the bottom of the tenth to give the Braves a 6-5 win over the Expos and expand their lead in the NL East to two games. The Reds lost in Pittsburgh to stay three back in the wild card race.

September 18, 1999: Mets 11, Phillies 1

Before the game, Valentine announced he would revert to a five-man rotation. Surprisingly, the odd man out was Octavio Dotel, who'd pitched brilliantly at times. But Valentine seemed wary of pitching him Atlanta, where he'd made his major league debut and was knocked around for six runs in less than five innings. Other than prevent Dotel from exacting revenge on the Braves, which he seemed anxious to do ("Believe it," he told the Daily News), the move meant the Mets would throw three veterans in Atlanta: Leiter, Rick Reed, and Orel Hershiser.

On the field, Masato Yoshii threw seven great innings, prompting chants of "Yoshii! Yoshii!" from the Shea crowd. The bats lulled to sleep by Randy Wolf came alive against Philly starter Mike Grace and the Philly bullpen, even without Piazza in the lineup.

Rey Ordonez had hit exactly one home run a year since hitting the bigs in 1996, each one coming in September. This game marked his annual long ball for 1999; amazingly, it came with the bases juiced (the picture to your right is provided as evidence that a Rey Ordonez grand slam actually happened). Darryl Hamilton hit a solo homer, scored three runs, and made a great diving catch to keep the Phils off the board.

Meanwhile in Atlanta, Greg Maddux pitched a typical Maddux-esque game against the Expos, going the distance and giving up no earned runs. But thanks to three Braves errors, Montreal scored four unearned runs, making him the hard luck loser. Thus, the Mets were back within a game of first place. The Reds won again to keep pace in the wild card hunt.

September 19, 1999: Mets 8, Phillies 6

The Mets took a 4-0 lead in the third, thanks to a three-run homer by John Olerud (which also allowed Edgardo Alfonzo to score his 117th run of the year, tying a club record set by Lance Johnson in 1996), followed immediately by a solo shot from Piazza. The catcher wasn't entirely over the thumb injury he sustained in the first game against the Phils, but he wanted to get some at bats before the series in Atlanta.

Things were looking good, especially since Kenny Rogers kept the Phillies out of the hit column for the first four innings. But then he tweaked his troublesome hamstring yet again, and the wheels came off. He opened the fifth by giving up a hit, then a two-run homer to ex-Met Rico Brogna. After loading the bases with two outs, Rogers walked in a run, then gave up a two-RBI single to Bobby Abreu.

Rogers finally got the hook in favor of Dotel, whose first appearance out of the bullpen did not begin well. The rookie tried the fake-to-third-throw-to-first gambit, but only succeeded in getting called for a balk that brought a runner home from third and put Philly up 6-4. Valentine screamed at first base ump Bruce Froemming, but the umpire refused to ask for help from the rest of his crew, even when the manager stalked on the field and appealed to the other umpires in person.

Somehow, Valentine avoided getting thrown out of the game. More importantly, Dotel got the final out and pitched a scoreless sixth, which bought the Mets enough to time to claw back. Roger Cedeno led off the bottom of fifth with an infield single, stole second, and scored on an Olerud double. After a walk to Piazza, Robin Ventura hit his own infield single while Olerud scored the tying run all the way from second. Then with two out, Benny Agbayani reached on an error by Desi Relaford, which also allowed Piazza to score the go-ahead run.

Cedeno added a solo home run in the sixth to pad the Mets' lead, and the bullpen worked around a few scares to maintain it. Turk Wendell gave up two singles to start the seventh, then was yanked in favor of Dennis Cook (though not before he tossed his glove into the stands in frustration, where a lucky young fan flagged this unusual souvenir).

Cook got the last two outs in the seventh and the first in the eighth, but then gave up a double to Jose Arias. Valentine turned to Armando Benitez for a five-out save, which he achieved while striking out three.

Despite missing slugger Brian Jordan (who was battling wrist injuries, and in danger of missing the postseason altogether), the Braves beat the Expos with little fuss, so the Mets would go to Atlanta one game back in the standings.

The win was also a nice birthday present for original Met broadcaster Bob Murphy, who received cake and a "Happy Birthday" serenade from the Shea crowd before the game. "You always have to believe there'll be another September like this," he said. "Isn't that what keeps us all so young?"

Mike Piazza described his feelings at the time, in words that will seem ironic to all Mets fans for a few dozen different reasons:

We have to go down there and enjoy it, No. 1, and not get caught up in the pressure. We have to play relaxed and feel like we're the team to beat.

Last week, I announced that I would be reviewing all of the posts in The 1999 Project for typos, factual errors, and spiffability. This quick note is to let all you fine folks that I've completed that review. In most cases, the changes were extremely simple, although I did peep a few items that were just flat out wrong.

Which ones? NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS! Just know that I've corrected all such things, so you can sleep easy now.

As for the future, I should have at least one 1999 Project post up this week in order to keep pace. My goal is to post reviews of the various postseason games on their respective anniversaries.

Regarding the other item in my post of last week--migrating older posts to the new site interface--that's going a little more slowly. But I still fully plan to have all posts from 2007 and 2008 up and running by the end of the year.

Carry on.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

As the Mets began the last of three lengthy cross-country road trips, they were 3.5 games behind the Braves. It was no small feat to be so close to Atlanta so late in the season. The Braves hadn't had a serious rival for a division title since 1993, when they edged out San Francisco to take the NL West crown on the last day of the season. Ever since their transfer to the NL East, they strolled into the postseason every year; their closest shave came in 1996, when Montreal finished a mere eight games behind.

If there was any year to catch the Braves, 1999 should have been it. Andres Galarraga, Odalis Perez, Javy Lopez, and closer Kerry Ligtenberg were all lost for the year with injuries. John Smoltz spent time on the DL, and Tom Glavine pitched surprisingly mediocre. Rumblings began early that their dynasty was over.

And yet, between July 25 (when Lopez was sidelined indefinitely) and September 11, the Braves had a mind-boggling 30-11 record. For the season, they had an astounding 27 come-from-behind victories. Chipper Jones said, "No matter what happens this year, it's going to be my most satisfying season. This is a team that really has overachieved."

The Braves even said they welcomed the Mets nipping at their heels. Quoth Chipper again:

In years past, September was a month when we kind of took it easy and took some days off here and there to get ourselves prepared for the postseason. That may have an impact on what happens in the postseason, in that guys have trouble just flipping the switch on and off. I don't foresee us having any problems flipping the switch this year.

As the Mets would soon find out.

Although the Mets had more than Atlanta to contend with. They began this trip 3.5 games ahead of Cincinnati for the wild card berth. The Reds were not picked by many baseball minds to seriously contend in 1999, but manager Jack McKeon had gotten the most out of them (as he would for a young Marlins club a few years later).

Plus, they would have the advantage of a softer schedule than the Mets down the stretch. While New York had six games left with the Braves, The Reds had only one series left against a team with a winning record (Houston), and would only play two games against them. During the series in LA, Darryl Hamilton admitted, "I think [now is] the first time I've actually looked to see what the Reds were doing. We're not looking back, but we'd like to know who's trying to get up on us."

As I've compiled the 1999 Project, I often go back and reread earlier entries to refresh my memory. While doing this, I've noticed some inconsistencies and errors, not to mention some posts that just cry out to be spiffed up.

So in the coming weeks, I'm going to review each post and make a few adjustments. Some of these changes will be small, like making style consistent or repairing typos. For instance, there are several posts where I inadvertently spelled John Olerud's first name as 'Jon'. And I wasn't always consistent in re: stuff like spelling out numbers (which, as a copy editor by trade, drives me nuts).

Other changes will be bigger, in the case of info that's incorrect. I hope there's not too many of these, although I already found a statistical error in an early post regarding Rickey Henderson getting 12 total bases in a game, which I originally wrote was a club record (it wasn't, even at the time).

I'll also be adding, where appropriate, links to posts that came later--something that was obviously impossible the first time 'round. And I'll add a few pics here and there to spiff up the joint.

In summary, I'm just letting everyone know that some posts will be revised and THERE IS NO REASON FOR PANIC.

In other news, something else recently hit me. The current blog-arific incarnation of this site began in 2006. But not all of those posts have been integrated into the even newer, searchable and commentable Scratchbomb that debuted last year. All of the posts from 2006 were added, but only a mild smattering of posts from 2007 and 2008 have been given the royal treatment (usually added when I wrote a new post that brought to mind an older one).

My plan is to get all Scratchbomb material 2006 forward integrated into the 'new' site by the end of the year. That way, the whole world can search for and guffaw at my take on NFL playoff games from two years ago.

Incidentally, I've had this site longer than since 2006. A lot longer, in fact. But it was kind of a mess back then. If there's any real clamor for that stuff (pause to see tumbleweeds pass through), I'll go ahead and add them. If I still have them, that is.

Oh, and you're welcome.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

September 3, 1999: Rockies 5, Mets 2 (10)

The Mets began their homestand with an ugly incident reminiscent of their early season struggles. Rey Ordonez and backup shortstop Luis Lopez got into a fistfight while on the team bus to Shea, following their flight back from Houston. The fisticuffs were bad enough to give Ordonez a six-stitch gash over his eye.

The cause of the fight was unclear, although it was rumored that Ordonez tried to defend Jorge Toca (a fellow Cuban defector) against some rookie hazing. Both players kept the party line repeated by GM Steve Phillips, that they'd patched things up between them and there were no hard feelings. A few days later, after the dust settled, teammates would say they were surprised it took so long for someone to deck the abrasive Ordonez.

However, there were definitely hard feelings involved with a disappointing extra-inning loss to the Rockies. The Mets managed a mere two runs two runs against Colorado starter Jamey Wright, wasting two separate scoring opportunities with a man on third and only one out. Orel Hershiser pitched well enough to keep them in the game, and Pat Mahomes, Dennis Cook, and Armando Benitez combined to throw three scoreless innings.

Turk Wendell came on for the tenth and did not fare well, giving up a one-out walk to Todd Walker and a single to Dante Bichette. The righty had suffered a bit of a rough patch recently; ironically, it came after Bobby Valentine tried to give him a few days' rest in the hopes of keeping his arm fresh down the stretch. ("The more I pitch, the better I get," Wendell told reporters later. "Those six days off killed me")

Valentine called on ex-Rockie Chuck McElroy to clean up Wendell's mess. He struck out Todd Helton, but walked Vinny Castilla (who'd been 0 for 7 against McElroy previously) to load the bases. That brought up Met-for-a-minute Jeff Barry, who made his first, brief major league appearance for the team in 1995, then languished in the minors for the next four seasons.

"I felt real good for some reason before the game," Barry said afterward. "I had a real good feeling about today." He had reason to, since he went 3-for-3. His third hit was a bases-clearing double off of McElroy that put Colorado on top to stay. The loss dropped the Mets 4.5 games out of first in the NL East, their largest deficit since July, though a loss by the Reds maintained their four-game lead in the wild card standings.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

August 27, 1999: Mets 6, Diamondbacks 3

This marked the second of three West Coast trips the Mets would take at the end of the 1999 season. First up, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Despite being in their sophomore season, not only were the Diamondbacks in first place in the NL West, but at the start of this series they enjoyed a 7.5 game lead over the Giants and were poised to run away with the division.

In his brief career, Octavio Dotel had the uncanny habit of alternating good starts with so-so ones. In his last outing at Shea, he was less than impressive against the Cardinals. So naturally, in the series opener in Arizona, he was lights out. In eight innings of work, Dotel allowed just four hits, one run, and struck out six. D-Backs ace Randy Johnson, usually not one to dole out compliments (or say much of anything at all), predicted a "bright future" for the young righty.

The Mets took a lead two batters into the game, when Rickey Henderson led off with a double and Edgardo Alfonzo singled him home. Offensively, they were led by Rey Ordonez (of all people), who hit an run-scoring groundout in the second inning and a two-RBI single in the sixth. They tacked on two runs against the Arizona bullpen; Alfonzo scored from third when reliever Brian Anderson balked in the seventh, and later came home on a Mike Piazza double in the ninth.

That gave the Mets a comfortable 6-1 lead. Dotel had thrown 110 pitches through eight innings, and had also shouldered a considerable workload increase during his first professional season. This prompted Bobby Valentine to bring in Billy Taylor to pitch the ninth. Taylor had struggled thus far in his brief Mets tenure, and he struggled here, giving up consecutive singles to Jay Bell, Luis Gonzalez, and Matt Williams. Bell came around to score on Williams' hit, and the Mets' lead was down to 6-2, with runners on first and third and nobody out.

So Valentine was forced to bring in Armando Benitez to clean up Taylor's mess. Benitez struck out Erubiel Durazo, got Steve Finley to pop up to the catcher, and, after an RBI single to ex-Met Kelly Stinnett, induced a pop up from Andy Fox to end the game.

A nervous Dotel watched the ninth inning from the bench, foregoing his postgame workout routine. That led to a curious sight in the visiting clubhouse after the game--Dotel addressed the media while pedaling away on a stationary bike. He'd made another case for staying in the starting rotation, though Rick Reed--who'd just made a less-than-encouraging rehab start for Norfolk--insisted he was ready to return to the club.

In other injury news, Bobby Bonilla started in the same game as Reed as a DH and went 1 for 4. He would rejoin the team once rosters expanded on September 1, although few people associated with the team (and even fewer fans) seemed anxious for him to come back.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

August 21, 1999: Mets 7, Cardinals 4

A six-game homestand for the Mets began with a rainout, which necessitated a doubleheader against the Cardinals. The inclement weather prompted Bobby Valentine to reorder his starting rotation. Orel Hershiser was set to start the series opener, but after warming up before a game that was never played, he would instead pitch in game two of the twinbill.

Meanwhile, the Braves won both of their games while the Mets were idle, meaning the two teams were once again tied for first. That made this a big homestand for the Mets, and not just because The Mark McGwire Show was in town.

Kenny Rogers started the first game of the series and did not fare well. He loaded the bases in the top of the first on two singles and a walk, then gave up a two-RBI single to future Met Fernando Tatis. Mike Piazza responded with a three-run homer in the bottom half, but Rogers couldn't hold on to the lead, giving up three straight hits and a sac fly in the top of the third to put the Cards back on top, 4-3. Rogers was done after three innings, and was later revealed to be suffering from back spasms.

Once again, long man Pat Mahomes came to the rescue, throwing 3 1/3 scoreless, hitless innings that allowed the Mets to come back. They scratched out a run in the bottom of the third on a Shawon Dunston groundout to tie the game, then went ahead on a Rickey Henderson RBI single in the sixth. Two runs in the eighth (coming on another Dunston RBI groundout and a Benny Agbayani RBI single) padded their lead.

After Mahomes issued a one-out walk to J.D. Drew in the top of the seventh, Valentine turned to Turk Wendell to get McGwire out. No one seemed to know why, but Wendell was kryptonite for McGwire; he'd faced Big Mac six previous times and retired him in each instance. Despite a wild pitch that moved Drew to second, Wendell struck out McGwire to extend his history of inexplicable success against him.

He also worked around a one-out single to pitch a scoreless eighth inning. Armando Benitez closed out the game in style by striking out the side in order. The victory helped the Mets keep pace with Atlanta, who beat the Padres that day.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

This West Coast trip would include the Mets' last series at Candlestick Park (called 3Com Park at the time, thanks to corporate whim). The Giants were set to move to brand new Pac Bell Park the following April, a stadium whose downtown location and planned amenities already drew raves. In a bit of news I don't think came to pass, the Daily News reported "the actor Don Novello, also known as Father Guido Sarducci on Saturday Night Live, is training dogs to jump into the South Beach bay and retrieve baseballs".

Trained dogs or no, Pac Bell would be a marked improvement over Candlestick, to say the least. The old ballpark would not be missed by many, least of all the athletes who had to play there. Darryl Hamilton (an ex-Giant) hated the place so much that, during his last trip there as a Rockie, according to the Daily News, "he gave the 'Stick a parting salute" (leading the reader to believe his salute was of the one-gun variety).

Swirling wind and frigid conditions at all times of the year, combined with shoddy construction, made Candlestick one of the game's least liked facilities. It was certainly unliked by the Mets, who traditionally struggled there and on West Coast trips in general. That didn't bode well for the team, since this would be their first of three cross-country trips before the end of the season.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

At the season's lowest point, Bobby Valentine said he should be given 55 games to lead the Mets out of the wilderness. Game 55 arrived as the Mets returned to Shea, and found the Mets with the best record in baseball, 1.5 games up in first (the Braves shaved a half game off their lead with a win on a Mets off-day).

"When I talked about 55 games, I remember saying, 'Who knows, maybe we can win 40 of them,' " Valentine told Mike Lupica. Amazingly enough, a win in the series opener against the Dodgers would mean the Mets went 40-15 over that stretch.

"Now we've got the chance. Now let's see how we do over the next 55." As Lupica pointed out, for the Mets to play another 55 games, they would have to make the playoffs.

The Dodgers series also meant a Shea return for Todd Hundley. In the Mets' leaner years, the switch hitting catcher had been a fan favorite (particularly when he set the single-season home run record for catchers). But Mike Piazza's arrival, repeated clashes with Valentine, and rumors of a drinking problem (among other things) made Hundley expendable. He was dealt in the previous off season, in a three-way trade that brought Armando Benitez and Roger Cedeno to Queens.

The Daily News anticipated a warm reception for Hundley, and no such thing between him and his former manager. Asked if it would be odd to be on the same field as Hundley again, Valentine simply said, "Why would I give a shit?" For his part, Hundley said he wanted "to try to meet [Valentine] in a dark alley."

The series also meant a return to Shea for LA manager Davey Johnson, who'd led the Mets to a World Series ring. In one of those Only In NY stories, before the series, Johnson was greeted warmly in his hotel lobby by an NYPD officer who was also a September call up for the '86 Mets. "Funny how small the world is," Davey marveled.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

July 30, 1999: Mets 10, Cubs 9

The Mets began a six-game road trip by outlasting the Cubs in a sweltering game at Wrigley. A heat index of 114 knocked out local TV transmission and some of the traffic lights outside the stadium. Even players who hailed from the Caribbean and South America said it was some of the most oppressive weather they'd ever played in. "Just thank God there was no Astroturf," Mike Piazza said after the game, "or they would have been taking corpses off the field."

Masato Yoshii had his shortest outing of the year, lasting only 1 1/3 innings and allowing seven runs. After giving up a 465-foot bomb of a homer to Sammy Sosa in the first, Yoshii was knocked out of the game by a brutal second inning in which he gave up seven consecutive hits (including a single by starter Steve Trachsel and back-to-back triples by Mickey Morandini and Sosa).

Pat Mahomes came on in long relief and held the Cubs to two hits and one run in 4 2/3 innings, allowing the Mets the chance to come back. He also helped spark that come back with an RBI double that sent Trachsel to the showers in the fourth. The Mets took an 8-7 lead thanks to two-run rallies in the third, fourth, and fifth, but a solo shot from Jose Hernandez in the bottom of the fifth tied the game up. Rickey Henderson responded with a homer of his own in the top of the sixth, and John Olerud hit another to give the Mets a 10-8 lead.

Brought in for the save, Armando Benitez got two quick outs, then gave up a double to Morandini and an RBI single to Sosa that shaved the Mets' lead to one run. Mark Grace followed with a single that moved the tying run to third. Pinch hitter Tyler Houston hit a shot off of Benitez's right leg, and the pitcher could not locate the ball at first. After a few helpful screams from Piazza, Benitez threw Houston out at first to end the game. 

The reward for their perserverence (other than the win, of course): first place, thanks to a Braves loss to Philly. The Mets hadn't been in first so late in a season since 1990.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

Just as the Mets returned to Shea, the front office made its long-rumored deal for a starter, sending two minor leaguers to Oakland in exchange for Kenny Rogers. "The Gambler" was a more-than-capable lefty, but he'd already done an unsuccessful tour of duty with the Yankees that convinced many he was not New York Material. He also had made few friends in the Bay Area, punching a teammate in the face over a card-game-related dispute and destroying a bunch of bullpen phones at Candlestick Park (or 3Com Park, as it was called in its last year of hosting baseball). The A's were not shy about telling the world he would not be missed.

Regardless, in Oakland Rogers regained the ace-like form he lost in the Bronx. He thrived in Texas when Bobby Valentine was the skipper there. The Mets hadn't given up much to obtain him (of the two minor leaguers dealt to the A's, only Terence Long would have a serviceable career). And former teammate/fellow Texan Andy Pettite vouched for him.

It wasn't as if the Mets had many other options. Dream deals for true aces like Curt Schilling and David Wells proved prohibitively expensive and unlikely, given the dearth of talent in their farm system. Internally, they closed one road when they converted Jason Isringhausen into a reliever. And as good as Octavio Dotel had been, they were clearly reluctant to rely on a rookie in the midst of a heated pennant race.

Plus, Bobby Jones looked unlikely to return any time soon. On the shelf since May 23 with a shoulder injury, he threw an unsuccessful bullpen session that proved he was not ready for a rehab assignment.

So The Gambler found himself in the Mets' rotation, which meant a possible trip to the bullpen for Orel Hershiser or Rick Reed. The Mets began a homestand that would end well in the win column (5-1) but be overshadowed by an opposing player's reception, and a promotion so stupid it would have made Bill Veeck blanch.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

A quick jaunt through the eight-game road trip that started the second half of the season (and a desperate attempt to catch up with this crazy project).

After the All-Star Break, baseball's attention was diverted by the umpires, who threatened to resign en masse on September 2 if they could not negotiate a new contract with MLB. They adopted this strategy because their current contract prevented them from striking, and they hoped going on the offensive would force the owners' hands. It was a bold move, but for some of the umps, it would not end well.

July 15, 1999: Mets 8, Devil Rays 7 (10)

First up: the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, in their second year of existence and not yet shorn of their demonic name. They were also not ready for the same meteoric rise as their expansion-mates, the Diamondbacks (who were 6 games over .500 and on their way to a division title). Though they did outpace Arizona in hideous uniforms, as you can see here.

Tampa was a mix of superstars at the end of their careers (Wade Boggs, Fred McGriff, Jose Canseco) and everyday starters who'd be be no more than complimentary bench players on virtually any other team (such as future Mets Bubba Trammell and Miguel Cairo).

Still, the Mets trailed early in this one. Al Leiter gave up a solo shot and a two-run homer to put them in a 3-0 hole. They rallied for two runs without benefit of a hit in the top of the fifth, thanks to some walks and a throwing error by Aaron Ledesma (a rushed throw caused in part by the speed of Roger Cedeno). More walks and more bad fielding led to four more runs in the seventh and one in the eighth, giving the Mets a seemingly comfortable 7-3 lead.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

July 9, 1999: Mets 5, Yankees 2

Though the Mets played well between the end of the first Subway Series and the start of the second one, they had also just completed a disappointing four-game split with the lowly Expos. "There was a listless atmosphere," Jack Curry wrote of that series in The New York Times, "and the Mets always seemed to be in danger of being lulled to sleep and into feeling that they were fine. But they were not."

There was no danger of a subdued atmosphere at Shea for the Friday night opener of this series. The pitching matchup was a rematch of the last game of the Bronx leg of the Subway Series: Al Leiter for the Mets, Roger Clemens for the Yankees. That game ended the Mets' eight-game losing streak and turned the season around for both the team and Leiter. After a shaky start to his year, the lefty had been money in bank ever since his outing at Yankee Stadium.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

July 5, 1999: Mets 2, Expos 1

After a grueling, frustrating, and occasionally humiliating series against the Braves, the Mets were pleased to welcome the Expos to Shea for a four-game series. Granted, Montreal had given them fits the year before, and the Mets had only gone 4-3 against them thus far. Still, the Expos were--to put it charitably--not quite as talented as Atlanta.

Although the Mets must have thought they were facing the Braves yet again in game one. They managed eight hits against Montreal starter Dustin Hermanson, but could only score one unearned run, thanks to an error by Orlando Cabrera. Rick Reed pitched seven great innings of his own, allowing just one run, but could not get a win thanks to his teammates anemic offense (perhaps due in part to temperatures that peaked at 101 degrees).

Turk Wendell got into some trouble in the top of the eighth, when a single, an error, and a balk put runners on second and third and brought up Vladimir Guerrero in a prime RBI spot. But Wendell induced a pop up from Vlad to end the inning. He also got in trouble with the umpires for having too much resin on his fielding arm (perhaps a byproduct of his volatile mound rituals). It was not the first time that season he'd been asked to make a sartorial switch mid-appearance.

That allowed the Mets a chance to plate the go-ahead run in the bottom half. John Olerud led off with a single against future Met Guillermo Mota, then Mike Piazza doubled to move him to third. Robin Ventura was walked intentionally to load the bases to bring up Brian McRae. He hit into a 4-6-3 double play, but that allowed Olerud to score.

That's what passed for a rally in this game, but it was enough. Armando Benitez worked around a lead-off walk to preserve the victory. 

July 6, 1999: Mets 10, Expos 0

Masato Yoshii was nursing a bruised thigh, so Bobby Valentine asked the 40-year-old Orel Hershiser to pitch on one day's rest. That would allow him to push up Yoshii's next start and pitch Al Leiter against the Yankees in the upcoming Shea portion of the Subway Series. It would also prevent rookie Octavio Dotel from having to pitch against the Yanks (though the Mets insisted that was not a factor).

No Mets hurler had pitched on such short rest since 1982, and Hershiser had never done it in his career (though he'd memorably pitched on even shorter rest, closing out the Dodgers' series-changing Game 4 victory against the Mets in the 1988 NLCS after starting the day before). Not to mention to the weather conditions--temperatures reached triple digits yet again.

Regardless, Hershiser accepted the challenge and shut down the Expos for five innings, limiting them to three hits. His moxie inspired cheers of "1, 2, 3, Bulldog!" from spectators behind home plate. ("Try to do it when I'm not trying to concentrate, please," Hershiser sarcastically advised the fans after the game.)

Hershiser felt he could have gone another inning, but the risk didn't seem worth it. By that point, the Mets had already touched up Expos starter Carl Pavano for five runs, including a two-run homer from Brian McRae and two RBIs from Edgardo Alfonzo. They'd chase Pavano from the game with two more runs in the sixth inning and score three more off of the Montreal bullpen.

Fresh from his second tour in Norfolk, Jason Isringhausen pitched the last three innings, allowing only three hits. Despite the lopsided score, it counted for his first major league save.

This was also the day of All Star Game selections, and Mike Piazza was the only Met chosen by fan balloting. Rey Ordonez--having another fine year with the glove and a surprisingly productive year with the bat--was just edged out by the Reds' Barry Larkin for the shortstop position.

July 7, 1999: Expos 3, Mets 1

The third game looked like a repeat of the first, but unfortunately for the Mets, it did not result in a similar outcome. They stranded ten men on base and could only manage one run against Expos starter Dan Smith and the Montreal bullpen. In his best outing yet, Octavio Dotel limited the opposition to one run in seven innings. But Bobby Valentine batted for him in the bottom of the seventh in a vain attempt to spark a rally and was forced to turn to the bullpen.

Robin Ventura was hit by a pitch in his left foot in the bottom of the third and had to leave the game, so Luis Lopez was manning third base in the top of the eighth. Terry Jones singled to lead off the inning. After a sac bunt moved Jones up, Lopez fielded a grounder, but his throw whizzed past John Olerud, allowing Jones to score all the way from second.

The Mets threatened in their half. After singles by Roger Cedeno and McRae, Valentine pinch hit for Todd Pratt with Mike Piazza (who'd been given the day off). The Expos brought in their closer, Ugueth Urbina, and he promptly struck out Piazza on three pitches. Ordonez followed with a fly out to end the threat.

Montreal plated another run in the top of the ninth, and the Mets went quietly in their half. Despite wasted scoring opportunities, Lopez took all the blame after the game, with the use of some Rickey Henderson-esque grammar. "Everyone played their asses off," he said. "Dotel pitched great. This time, Luis Lopez failed."

July 8, 1999: Expos 4, Mets 3

Masato Yoshii seemed to benefit from the extra rest afforded him by Orel Hershiser's spot start. After a slightly shaky, one-run first inning, he settled in, retiring 13 straight Expos at one point. The mets scored two runs in the first, then another on a Piazza solo shot in the fifth to take a 3-1 lead.

Montreal chipped at their lead thanks to a Vladimir Guerrero home run, the kind only he could hit (according to the Daily News, it came on "an eye-high fastball"). They tied it on another solo homer in the seventh, this one from Orlando Cabrera off of Turk Wendell. Dennis Cook come on in the eighth inning and gave up a one-out triple to Wilton Guerrero (Vlad's brother). The next batter, Shane Andrews, hit a fly to McRae in center field ("little more than a popup", in the Daily News' estimation) that allowed Guerrero to tag up and score.

The Mets had slight chances in their last two innings. Matt Franco hit a one-out single in the eighth, but was erased when Benny Agbayani hit into a double play. In the ninth, Rickey Henderson worked a walk against Urbina but was caught trying to steal second.

"We [the bullpen] are human," Cook said later. "We're going to throw a bad streak in there. It's one of those things. I'm not going to go home and slit my wrists."

Still, it was not the best way to lead into the Subway Series. Somewhat prophetically, the News opined:

The Mets are still the No. 2 team in this town, and it would be nice to make a statement against the vaunted Bronx Bombers. Win three, even two, against the Yankees and these Expos debacles surely will be forgiven and forgotten.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

July 2, 1999: Braves 16, Mets 0

The Mets welcomed the Braves to Shea for the first time in 1999, and the Braves found it very welcoming indeed. Chipper Jones (who else) commenced the scoring with a two-run shot in the first, and it was all downhill from there. Masato Yoshii was torched for eight runs in only three innings--and the Braves had scored only half their runs yet.

The Braves might have been helped (at least at first) by their dugout monitors, which showed them the game feed instead of the bullpen, thus giving them a bird's eye view of Mike Piazza's pitch calling. They were quick to point out this error--after the top of the first.

No such help was needed on the mound. Greg Maddux continued his mastery over the Mets, allowing just two hits in six innings of work. The famously economical Maddux presumably felt no need to tax himself beyond that point, considering he had a 12-run lead. After a shaky (for him) start to his season, Maddux proved once again that he had lost nothing--and would continue to be a thorn in the Mets' side.

The Braves piled on with two runs in the fourth inning, and a run each in the fifth and sixth. They added both insult and injury in the ninth, when John Franco came on to pitch. The Mets' closer hadn't pitched in several days, so despite the score, he was due for some work. After allowing a run, then back-to-back walks, Franco stalked off the mound with pain in his left hand that would later be diagnosed as a strained tendon.

Having burned through all of his bullpen already, and short one position player (Edgardo Alfonzo was away from the team, attending the birth of his son), Bobby Valentine was forced to be creative. He used starter Rick Reed in right field, who took the spot of Roger Cedeno, who moved to second to take the place of Luis Lopez, who moved to third to take the place of Matt Franco, who took to the mound to try and get the final out of the ninth.

Matt became only the second position player to pitch for the Mets (the first was the immortal Bill Pecota in 1992). Gerald Williams turned on the third pitch Franco threw and launched it for a three-run homer. But he also managed to stop the bleeding by striking out Andruw Jones. "I think the disappointment of the night had gone past by then," Franco told reporters later. "It was fun. The 16-0 loss wasn't worth it."

That margin of defeat represented the most lopsided shutout in Mets history. And just to add a little bit of strife to an already bad situation, Bobby Bonilla challenged a fan to a fight after he was booed for dropping a pop-up.

July 3, 1999: Braves 3, Mets 0

On a muggy night, Al Leiter limited the Braves to three runs, but his teammates continued to be baffled by Atlanta pitching. This time, the culprit was Kevin Millwood, who no-hit the Mets for four innings and gave up only three hits total.

Brian Jordan--who said he'd make New York regret not signing him in the off season--started the scoring in the top of the fifth with a two-run homer (on what Jordan called "the straightest fastball I've ever seen Leiter throw"). The Braves scratched out another run in the sixth to give themselves a 3-0 lead. The way the Mets were hitting, it might as well have been 300-0.

In the bottom of the fifth, Robin Ventura led off with a single to break up Millwood's bid for a no-no. Just so the Mets wouldn't get any ideas about turning their luck around, Benny Agbayani followed with a strike out while Ventura was picked off of first. It was as close to a rally as they would come against Millwood.

The Atlanta starter tried to go the distance, but he walked Brian McRae to start the ninth, prompting Bobby Cox to turn to his closer, John Rocker. The hard-throwing lefty looked almost human when he threw a wild pitch and gave up a single to pinch hitter Todd Pratt, putting runners at the corners with nobody out.

But Rocker induced harmless fly outs from Edgardo Alfonzo and John Olerud. The Mets were down to their last out, but they also had Mike Piazza coming to the plate as the tying run. Alas, there were no heroics in his bat this time--he struck out to end the game.

Going back to the series in Atlanta, the Mets hadn't scored a run against Braves pitching in 28 innings. Millwood, the latest architect of their futility, summed up the feeling of the budding rivalry. ""We said when we started to play these guys to keep them down and don't let them get their confidence up," he told reporters after the game. "So far, we've done a pretty good job."

To make matters worse, the Mets were forced to put John Franco on the DL with what they termed a strained flexor tendon in his left middle finger. Rigo Beltran was called up from Norfolk to take his place on the roster. Bobby Valentine anticipated handing the closer's job to Armando Benitez. He'd filled that role for the Orioles, but he'd also been traded from Baltimore for his propensity to blow up in big moments.

July 4, 1999: Mets 7, Braves 6

The Daily News' Vic Ziegel opened his story thusly, in one of the weirder lead paragraphs I've ever read:

Somebody else will have to explain how the Mets won this game. The rumor making the rounds before Mets 7, Atlanta 6 last night was that the Mets need only one look at the tomahawk shirts to turn to jelly. Last year's jelly, hidden in the back of the fridge. What is that smell?

This game marked the Mets' last chance to do direct damage to the Braves for quite some time--the two teams wouldn't meet again until September 21. That damage would have to be done against the always tough John Smoltz, although the righty was rumored to be dealing with some elbow issues.

Orel Hershiser started for the Mets and immediately put the Mets in a hole by giving up back-to-back solo shots to Bret Boone and Chipper Jones. But they touched up Smoltz for three runs on three hits in their half of the first.

Not only had the Mets finally scored against the Braves, but they even padded their lead on an Alfonzo RBI double in the second inning. It would not last for long. In the top of the third, another solo homer from Boone, a sac fly from Ryan Klesko, and a two-run shot by Randall Simon scored four runs, chased Hershiser from the game, and put Atlanta back in front, 6-4.

Pat Mahomes and Rigo Beltran helped restore order and prevent the Braves from scoring any more runs. Greg McMichael pitched the top of the seventh and got into a bases loaded jam, but Dennis Cook came on to get the last out and keep Atlanta off the board. As good as their relief efforts were, it all seemed pointless, as the Mets could not dent Smoltz any further. They were retired with little incident in the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth innings.

Then in the bottom of the seventh, Rey Ordonez hit a lead off single and Brian McRae followed with a walk. Rickey Henderson bunted them into scoring position, but that proved unnecessary, because Alfonzo crushed a Smoltz fastball to straight-away center to give the Mets a 7-6 lead.

Cook stayed on to set down the Braves in order in the eighth. Then Armando Benitez came on in the ninth for his first appearance as the Mets' interim closer. He rose to the occasion by striking out the side, which consisted of three batters who'd given the Mets fits over the last three games: Boone, Chipper, and Jordan.

After the game, Bobby Valentine simply said, "It was a test if there's ever been test."

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

June 28, 1999: Mets 10, Marlins 4

Robin Ventura shined in the opener of a four-game series in Miami, clubbing two homers, driving in six runs, and leading the Mets to a rout over the Marlins. The third baseman was praised by the Daily News for removing himself late in the game so Matt Franco could get an at-bat against Braden Looper, a reliever he'd likely face in a much closer game somewhere down the road. It was a good rebound after the series in Atlanta, when Ventura struck out an astounding seven times in only 12 at-bats.

Al Leiter struggled a bit in the third inning, giving up two runs, each scoring on two-out RBI singles. But he rebounded to pitch into the seventh inning and reap the benefits of another offensive outburst.

Back in New York, Mets owner Fred Wilpon said he was "hopeful" the team could secure city permission and financing to begin construction on a new ballpark. The desired opening date: 2003. Wilpon's vision was for "a 45,000-seat, Ebbets Field replica with a retractable roof that would allow the facility to be used '365 days a year,' except for football. He still is committed to the current site at Shea."

The same article cites the Mets' desire to trade for a "front-line starter". The Angels' Chuck Finley was discussed, but the Marlins' Livan Hernandez seemed a long shot, since, according to the article, "the Mets don't consider Hernandez a front-line starter".

June 29, 1999: Mets 5, Marlins 1

Orel Hershiser left the mound to a standing ovation, a reaction he attributed to large numbers of "the 40-and-over crowd" in Florida.

It was not a very big standing ovation--the paid attendance, only a little over 11,000, was the third lowest in Marlins' history to date. Regardless of size, it was a tribute to Hershiser's finest outing as a Met, where he went 8 1/3 innings, giving up just five hits and one run. He kept the ball on the ground, which led to an astounding 11 assists for shortstop Rey Ordonez (only three shy of the all-time single-game record).

Ventura continued his hot hitting. His two-run single in the third inning gave the Mets the lead to stay. Edgardo Alfonzo padded that lead with a two-run homer in the seventh.

On the negative side, Bobby Jones experienced discomfort in his balky right shoulder and was scratched for a scheduled BP session. The news furthered GM Steve Phillips' search for another starter; he was rumored to be pursuing Toronto's David Wells, though the length and size of his contract was a stumbling block (not to mention the size of Wells himself).

June 30, 1999: Marlins 4, Mets 3 (10)

Kevin Millar did all the damage against starter Rick Reed. His two-run homer in the second put the Marlins on top, and after the Mets rallied to tie in top of the sixth, Millar's RBI single
in the bottom half put the Marlins back in front and chased Reed from the game.

The Mets tied it up again in the seventh, thanks to Rickey Henderson behaving in typical Rickey-esque fashion: he worked a two-out walk, stole second, and scored on an Alfonzo single.

They had an opportunity to go ahead in the ninth, when Roger Cedeno walked. Closer Matt Mantei tried to pick Cedeno off second, but threw the ball away. That allowed Cedeno to easily move to second--so easily, in fact, that third base coach Cookie Rojas gave him the green light to advance to third. Luis Castillo fired the ball to Mike Lowell, who tagged out Cedeno and ended the threat.

"When the play developed, there were very few people that thought he wouldn't be safe at third," Bobby Valentine told reporters after the game. "I think we were a little more surprised than disappointed."

Mike Piazza made a bid in the top of the tenth, giving a ride to a fastball from Antonio Alfonseca. But in cavernous Pro Player Stadium (as it was then called), it died before the warning track and settled in Mark Kotsay's glove for a flyout.

Armando Benitez set down the Marlins in order in the ninth, and came out for the tenth as well. He retired the first two batters with ease, but fell behind Kotsay 3-1 before delivering a fastball that Kotsay deposited into the right field stands for a walk-off home run. It was the first hit any Marlin had gotten off of Benitez all year. The loss prevented the Mets from gaining ground on the Braves, whose bullpen had a late-inning meltdown of its own.

Benitez declared himself unshaken after the game, in words that sound bitterly ironic with the remove of time: "It's nothing. It's one game. We have a chance to win tomorrow. We have a chance to win against Atlanta. We're going to win [against] Atlanta no matter what. You give me the ball, I'll do the best I can. I won't surrender. I like competition." The reliever, who already had the rep of being moody and immature, was amazingly praised in some circles for his willingness to put the incident behind him.

July 1, 1999: Mets 12, Marlins 8

The Mets exploded for six runs off of Marlins starter Ryan Dempster in the third inning, with all of the offense coming with two outs. Octavio Dotel made his second big league start, and he chipped in with an RBI of his own when he worked a bases loaded walk that scored the fourth run of the inning and chased Dempster from the game.

They didn't stop there, scoring two runs in the fourth, fifth, and sixth innings as well. With Piazza resting, Todd Pratt was given a start and knocked in three runs. Henderson and Ordonez each had two RBIs.

Dotel did much better than in his previous start, at least for the first three innings. (Perhaps because the paid attendance was the third-lowest in team history, supplanting the record set just two days previous.) But he gave up two runs in the fourth inning and three more in the fifth. Some of his sudden ineffectiveness was chalked up to the threat of rain; Dotel later said he might have rushed his pitches because he didn't want weather to wash out his chance for his first big league win before the fifth inning was complete.

Or it might have been the fact that Marlins pitcher Brian Edmonson hurled a pitch near his head in the top of the fifth, after the game had gotten away from the Marlins. Dotel told reporters he never saw the pitch, but was lucky enough to spin out of the way and have it only graze the back of his batting helmet. "It's hard to say it didn't affect him," Bobby Valentine said later.

Whatever the cause, Valentine swapped Dotel for long man Pat Mahomes in the sixth, who held the fort for three innings. Greg McMichael pitched the ninth and allowed three runs to score, but they were of little consequence.

Next up: The Braves again, this time at Shea. The Mets remained a mere three games back, with the chance to make up some ground.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

June 25, 1999: Mets 10, Braves 2

This late June tilt in Atlanta was, amazingly, the first time the Mets faced the Braves in 1999. The series held some importance, with the Mets only three games out of first after their three-game sweep of Florida. However, as hard as it might be to believe now, the intense rivalry between the two teams hadn't yet been formed.

For one thing, while the Braves dominated the entire decade of the 1990s, the Mets stayed strenuously non-competitive. It's hard to start a rivalry when one team refuses to put up a fight.

Granted, at the end of the 1998 season, Atlanta had swept the Mets as part of the five-game skid that cost them a wild card berth. No one seemed to believe that was personal, however (even if those games meant nothing to the Braves, who had already clinched yet another division title). If you read the newspaper accounts prior to this series, you see none of the vitriol and animosity that would emerge in later years--due largely to the many games between the two teams in 1999.

In the Daily News, John Harper wondered if two mainstays of the Braves' rotation--Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine--were losing their invincibility. The pitchers' stats to that point in the season were not up their usual lofty standards.

The culprit, so everyone thought, was a more strenuous enforcement of the strike zone. Maddux and Glavine had won Cy Youngs by getting generous strike calls a few inches off the plate. But it would soon become abundantly clear that any rumors of their demise had been greatly exagerrated.

The start of the first game was delayed 45 minutes, due to lighting issues at Turner Field. The Mets would be without Mike Piazza, who was nursing a sore neck he sustained on a Bruce Aven backswing during the Marlins series.

Despite these ill omens, things looked good in the series opener. The Mets took an early lead on a Benny Agbayani solo homer off of Odalis Perez in the top of the second, then notched three more runs against Perez in the top of the sixth with RBI singles from Todd Pratt, Roger Cedeno, and starter Rick Reed. They piled it on against the Braves' usually strong bullpen, scoring one run in the seventh, two in the eighth, and three in the ninth, en route to a 10-2 victory--their first at Turner Field in almost two years.

Atlanta was reportedly perturbed when Rickey Henderson stole second in the top of the ninth, with the Mets already up 7-2. After the game, Bobby Valentine defended the move, telling reporters, "Rickey's been in that situation as much as anyone in this room or that room [clubhouse]." In other words, Rickey can steal whenever Rickey feels like it.

June 26, 1999: Braves 7, Mets 2

Pitching prospect Octavio Dotel was called up to take Jason Isringhausen's spot in the starting rotation and make his major league debut at Turner Field. The jewel of the Mets farm system, Dotel impressed at Norfolk, striking out 17 batters in one triple-A outing. "Dotel, he's one of their bright ones, right?" Bobby Cox asked reporters before the game. He then invoked the ill-fated memory of Generation K.

It didn't take long for Dotel to fall behind, as he gave up two walks and a three-run homer to Ryan Klesko in the bottom of the first. The young righty settled in for the next few innings, but was touched up for another three runs in the bottom of the fifth, then yanked for Pat Mahomes.

Tom Glavine was, of course, Vintage (Atlanta) Glavine, going seven innings and giving up only one run. Other than a three-hit top of the sixth that produced a run, the Mets never truly threatened. 

During the game, Piazza was bothered by a fan sitting behind the Atlanta dugout who called out his position behind the plate before each pitch. Home plate ump Bob Davidson stalked over in the fan's general direction just as he removed himself from the stands of his own volition. According to the Daily News, "Piazza was afraid that the extra information may have caused extra contact at home plate."

June 27, 1999: Braves 1, Mets 0

Masato Yoshii turned in a very good seven innings. Unfortunately, he was opposed by eight excellent innings from Greg Maddux.

The game's only run came in the bottom of the third, when Eddie Perez hit a one-out single. After Maddux bunted the slow-footed catcher to second, he came around to score on an Ozzie Guillen double. It was the only damage Yoshii would allow, but it was one run too many.

The Mets got a few chances late, but could not convert. In the top of the eighth, Brian McRae worked a leadoff walk, then found himself on third after a sac bunt and a groundout. Valentine sent up Matt Franco to pinch hit, and he worked a full count but flailed at a sharp curveball to strike out and end the inning.

In the top of the ninth, Edgardo Alfonzo managed a one-out single against the Braves' newly minted closer, John Rocker. Pinch runner Melvin Mora moved to second on a groundout, but after an intentional walk to Piazza, Rocker struck out Robin Ventura to end the game.

After the offensive explosion of the first game, the Mets scored a mere two runs in the last two contests. Still, the Mets--a bit hubristically, perhaps--pronounced themselves optimistic that they could hang with Atlanta for the remainder of the season.

A typically cocky Rickey Henderson said, "From what I see, we have the better club...The one thing I've always said about the Atlanta Braves is they're a lucky club. When you have luck rolled in and balls going their way, I think they have the little edge over us right now. I think it's going to be a good run to the end."

Meanwhile, an atypically generous Chipper Jones said, "I don't see them going away. They have too many good players."

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

June 17, 1999: Mets 4, Cardinals 3

Bruce Benedict piloted the Mets for the second and final game of Bobby Valentine's suspension. This outing in St. Louis was a bit more of a nail-biter than his first one.

It didn't look that way at first. Al Leiter threw seven great innings, giving up only one run, three hits, and striking out nine. The Cardinals strung together two hits and a sac fly to plate a run against Leiter in the second, but the lefty was otherwise perfect.

The Mets scratched out one run each in the fourth and fifth innings, then got a two-run homer from Robin Ventura in the sixth to go up 4-1. Armando Benitez pitched a 1-2-3 eighth to set up things nicely for John Franco.

But as he so often did, Franco made things difficult. A single by future Met Joe McEwing and a double by Edgar Renteria put runners on second and third for Mark McGwire. Franco got a comebacker from McGwire, but inexplicably threw to third to try and tag out McEwing. The attempt failed, thus loading the bases with no outs. Another future Met, Fernando Tatis, followed with a two-RBI single to cut the lead to one slim run.

Benedict yanked Franco in favor of Dennis Cook, who warmed up quickly in the midst of his fellow lefty's meltdown. Cook got a strikeout, flyout, and pop-up to strand the tying and winning runs on base and make Benedict a perfect 2-0 in his brief managerial stint.

June 18, 1999: Mets 6, Cardinals 2

With Bobby Valentine back in the driver's seat, the Mets got some more excellent pitching performances, with a dash of aches and pains. Starter Orel Hershiser gave up only one hit but had to leave after five innings with back spasms. Turk Wendell took over and set the Cards down in order in the sixth and seventh. Two RBIs for both Edgardo Alfonzo and Rickey Henderson, plus a run-scoring single from Rey Ordonez, gave the Mets a 5-0 lead.

Wendell began to tire in the bottom of the eighth, walking the first two batters he faced. He induced a double play, but then gave up a two-run homer to Thomas Howard and single to McEwing. Valentine turned to Benitez to stop the bleeding, but he walked Renteria to bring McGwire to the plate as the tying run.

In all of their previous confrontations, Benitez had either walked or struck out McGwire. It looked like the result would be the former when he quickly went 3-0 on the slugger. But Benitez followed with three called strikes to retire McGwire and end the inning. The last called strike was knee high, in Benitez's opinion, or lower, as Tony LaRussa saw it. The St. Louis manager argued the called third strike and was ejected for his trouble.

Mike Piazza hit a solo homer in the top of the ninth to give the Mets some insurance. Wanting to stay away from John Franco after his struggles in the previous game, Valentine left Benitez in for the bottom of the ninth, and he retired the Cards with little incident to preserve the victory.

On the transaction front, the Mets made a trade, though not the expected one. Many thought they'd try to deal Bobby Bonilla, who'd contributed little but headaches up to that point in the season.

Instead, the Mets dealt Queens native Allen Watson, who'd made a few starts earlier in the season, to the Mariners in exchange for reliever Mac Suzuki. Watson was out of minor league options and would've had to pass through waivers, had the Mets tried to send him down again. Steve Phillips cited Pat Mahomes' effectiveness as a long reliever as the main impetus behind the deal.

Bonilla was apparently still on the trading block, however. The last whispers said the Red Sox might be interested in the grumbling former slugger.

June 19, 1999: Cardinals 7, Mets 6

Both starters were ineffective in this excruciating, nearly-four-hour affair, the longest nine-inning game in Mets history. After a few encouraging outings, Jason Isringhausen was tattooed for six runs in only 2 2/3 innings of work, including a three-run bomb from McGwire in the first. But Cardinals starter/future Met Darren Oliver fared no better, giving up six runs of his own and two homers (Henderson and Piazza) in four innings of work. Reliever Pat Mahomes gave up an RBI double to Willie McGee (serving his last tour of duty in the bigs that year) in the fourth inning that proved to be the difference.

The Mets almost tied the game in the top of the fifth. With Bonilla on third and Henderson on first, Cards reliever Manny Aybar tried the seldom successful fake-to-third-throw-to-first gambit. As he did, Henderson took off for second, then Bonilla broke home. But McGwire fired a throw home and Bonilla was called out on a close play at the plate. Replays seemed to confirm Valentine's insistence that Bonilla was safe, but home plate umpire Charlie Williams did not agree.

If it was any consolation, Williams was rough on both teams. His tight strike zone resulted in a ridiculous number of full counts and drove up pitch totals for all hurlers. Oliver, who was unhappy with Williams' strike zone, threw 121 pitches in only four innings.

June 20, 1999: Mets 9, Cardinals 6

Rick Reed did not fare well in this outing, giving up two homers (including yet another McGwire blast, his 21st of the year) and five runs. But his offense picked him up, paced by Rey Ordonez, of all people.

The normally lumber-allergic shortstop went 3-for-4, and showed some hustle by scoring from second on an infield single--twice. In the top of the third, he plated the Mets' first run when he ran all the way home on a slow Roger Cedeno groundout. McGwire had his back to the plate, and by the time he realized what was happening, he had no play.

Then in the top of the sixth, Ordonez helped the Mets rally from a four-run deficit to tie and then take the lead. After RBI hits from Robin Ventura and Benny Agbayani cut the Cards' lead to two, Ordonez hit a two-RBI single to knot the score at 6. He then put the Mets in front on a bizarre play.

St. Louis reliever Rick Croushore attempted to field another Cedeno grounder, but fell down on the field and had no play. Ordonez crossed from second to third on the play, so Croushore--in a sitting position--looked him back before turning his attention to the umpire, for some reason. Ordonez took one step back toward third, then dashed for home. Croushore could not throw him out from his knees, and the Mets had a 7-6 lead.

A sac fly from Luis Lopez and a Piazza RBI single in the top of the ninth padded the Mets' lead. John Franco allowed a one-out double to McEwing in the ninth, but got a groundout and struck out McGwire to end any further threat.

Ordonez credited his resurgence to either his still-mysterious benching earlier in the season (a knee injury was the professed reason, though many doubted this explanation) or the blond highlights he'd added earlier in June.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

June 14, 1999: Reds 8, Mets 4

The opener of the Mets' second series of the year at the former Riverfront Stadium (then called Cinergi Field) was notable mostly for an odd attempt at gamesmanship by Reds manager Jack McKeon. When reliever Pat Mahomes came on to pitch the bottom of the seventh, McKeon protested to the umpires that the lefty was wearing an orange undershirt, technically not part of the Mets' uniform. Mahomes was forced to change his undershirt to the standard issue black (lacking quick access to a black tee of his own, he borrowed one from a trainer).

Bobby Valentine bristled after the game. He recalled how, when the two teams met at Shea earlier in the year, McKeon made Jason Isringhausen darken some white lettering on his glove. "When I do it, it's ridiculous acts of something and when he does it, it's one-upmanship?" Valentine told reporters after the game. "I think it's ridiculous, personally. It's nonsense. I haven't seen it do any good yet. It's just a waste of time."

McKeon needn't have bothered. By the time he tried his sartorial distraction, Turk Wendell had already given up a three-run homer to Aaron Boone that put the game away for Cincinnati.

June 15, 1999: Mets 11, Reds 3
 
This game saw the Mets put on their biggest power display in 11 years. Rickey Henderson, John Olerud, and Mike Piazza all homered off of Brett Tomko in the first inning before an out was recorded to give themselves a 4-0 lead. New York clubbed six homers in total (including shots by Edgardo Alfonzo, Matt Franco, and one more from Henderson) and cruised to an easy victory.

The six homers tied a team record set on Opening Day 1988 in Montreal, when Darryl Strawberry and Kevin McReynolds each went deep twice, and Lenny Dykstra and Kevin Elster hit solo shots. Henderson's leadoff shot was the 74th of his career, a major league record Rickey had extended yet again. "It's brilliant, isn't it?" he rhetorically asked reporters after the game.

Rick Reed made sure the offense held up, pitching eight innings, allowing only two runs, and striking out five. The performance was even more remarkable after Reed reported blood in his urine the day before (he felt like he was "pissing razor blades", according to a surprisingly graphic report in the Daily News). Whatever had troubled Reed in the bathroom, it didn't bother him on the mound.

Valentine wished the offensive explosion had waited one day. After the game, he found out the appeal of his two-game suspension for costumed hi-jinks was shot down by MLB officials. His enforced absence would begin the next day.

June 16, 1999: Mets 5, Reds 2

Coach Bruce Benedict piloted the Mets in Valentine's absence and oversaw a mostly drama-free victory. Masato Yoshii pitched six solid innings, the offense notched six doubles (two each for Piazza and Henderson), Robin Ventura hit a solo homer, and John Franco pitched a 1-2-3 ninth for his sixteenth save.

Valentine watched the game from the press level, wearing a checkered jacket and tie that reminded Piazza of old Philadelphia A's manager Connie Mack. Though he felt helpless away from the dugout, he had little to worry about, save for when Brian McRae tried to stretch a single into a double and banged his knee on the bag. Despite the slight injury, McRae stayed in the game.

Meanwhile, the Daily News continued its weirdly detailed coverage of Rick Reed's urinary trouble. Reed reported passing a small stone and said he felt much better.

Back in New York, Community Board 13 told the Mets they could build a minor league stadium in Coney Island if city officials also okayed a long-promised "Sportsplex" arena for the neighborhood, which would provide more year-round jobs than a ballpark. Hardy Adasko, president of the Economic Development Corp., stressed there was no "package deal" for a stadium-slash-Sportsplex.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

I'm going out of order with the 1999 Project for today because (a) I am woefully off pace, and (b) it's my stupid project and I can do what I want.

Also, as today's post at Faith and Fear in Flushing reminded me, today is the tenth anniversary of the infamous, glorious, monstrous and righteous Matt Franco Game. Greg Prince's post consists of nothing more than a transcription of Gary Cohen's call of the last play of the game, rendered in e.e. cummings-esque free verse form. Which is perfect, because this game was poetry.

If I told you that the Yankees hit six home runs off of Mets pitching, and that Mariano Rivera came in to close out the game, you'd assume the Yankees won. As Mets Walkoffs pointed out, when you hit six (or more) home runs in a game, you tend to win. In the last 50 years, teams that hit at least six homers are 214-15. Add in the threat of the Sandman, and that sounds like a Yankee victory to any sane person.

But this was not a sane game.

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

June 11, 1999: Red Sox 3, Mets 2 (12)