I recently had the chance to speak with Greg Prince of the blog Faith and Fear in Flushing about his new book which is appropriately titled, Faith and Fear in Flushing: An Intense Personal History.

This is truly a book for the fan by a fan, which is a perspective we don't hear from enough and certainly not so thoughtfully well-written. It's a must read for any Mets fan.

Copies of the book can be found at Amazon.com.

Regis Courtemanche: What was your approach in writing this book, and how long did it take?

Greg Prince: I wanted to tell the story of what it's been like to have been a Mets fan for a lifetime, a story that never really gets told properly from my perspective. The Mets narrative is usually restricted to a couple of big wins and a heaping helping of futility, garnished of late by heartbreak. What's missing is the day-to-day sense of what it's like to live with a team as your constant companion, particularly in the great mass of mediocre seasons. Nobody has really told the story of what it's like to be a Mets fan when they're not horrible and they're not awesome. That's a big part of the story, too, and my book includes it all. Everything you've forgotten, I probably remember.

The actual writing of the book took a matter of months, but the more accurate answer would be it was a lifetime in the making. Many of the stories are rooted in the blog as well as some other essays I wrote before Faith and Fear existed. Some of it is just stuff that's been in my head since I was a kid.

Regis Courtemanche: You have been writing your blog, Faith and Fear in Flushing, since 2005. Besides being lengthier, what were the major differences between writing a book and a blog?

Greg Prince: The major difference is each blog entry is its own universe. Some things come up on a recurring basis, but one day you're talking about Johan Santana, the next Jose Reyes, the next ranting about a pretzel that was too hard in 1995. The book had to be a full narrative, had to bring the reader along across essentially four decades of Mets fandom, had to connect from one season and era to the next. The book was also an opportunity to take a step back and see how all the games and all the years added up, what it meant and means to be a Mets fan. The blog is about reporting. The book is about reflecting.

Regis Courtemanche: Why do you think Mets fans will like Faith and Fear?

Greg Prince: It's the Mets fan's story. Specifically, it's mine but generally it belongs to every Mets fan. The one comment I get in reviews and e-mails is some variation on "your life is my life". We've all had the experience of being the biggest Mets fan anybody knows. We've all felt the euphoria, the doubts, the frustration, the deliverance. We've all take it seriously and personally. It's what we do. My life as a Mets fan is different from yours or anybody else's, but it's also very much similar. I think that's why Mets fans can relate so closely to Faith and Fear in Flushing.

Regis Courtemanche: While reading, I felt a personal connection to your stories. Some things I enjoyed reliving, and some not so much. Why do you and I take the Mets' victories and defeats so personally?

Greg Prince: It's hard to prove in a scientific sense, but there's something about the Met DNA that demands we take it personally, that we make it our own, that it's us on the field as much as it's us in the stands…

Regis Courtemanche: We both became Mets fans during a World Series run.  Do you think if you were six in 1962 when the Yankees won the World Series and the Mets won 40 games, things might have been different?  You had friends that switched over to become Yankees fans, why didn't you?

Greg Prince: I've never considered that as a possibility.  Perhaps if the Yankees had seemed like a lovable underdog in 1962, they might have appealed to me, but they were the entrenched power, and I've never cared for entrenched power. I was destined to be a Mets fan, even if meant 40-120 and Marvelous Marv. Sometimes I feel a little guilty I didn't experience those years first-hand…

Regis Courtemanche: I have seen a parent succumb to cancer as well and thought your chapter, ‘Comeback Player of the Decade,’ was very touching.  Why did you feel that your experience should be shared in the book?

Greg Prince: The subtext of the book is that my Mets fandom touches everything about my life.  Nowhere was this truer than in considering the mid-'80s Mets, the franchise's greatest period, and how it all meshed with what was going on with me away from Shea.  I was out of college, I was rather directionless, I moved back home.  My parents, not really fans in any sense while I was growing up, had jumped on the bandwagon.  I can't recall '85 and '86 and the rest of that era without remembering what it was like to share the Mets with my mother and father for really the first time.  It was astounding to have something that brought us together, particularly my mother and me, who weren't necessarily on the same page at that point of my life.  Sadly, that phase of the story had the ending it did.  But "comeback player of the decade" refers, in my mind, not just to the damn cancer but to the way the Mets brought my mother and me together in adulthood, that when I think of the Mets and those years, I'm able to remember her in a softer light than I might have otherwise.

Regis Courtemanche: You've been a Mets fan since you were six, and have attended countless games.  What are the top three games you were in attendance for, or is there a favorite?

Greg Prince: 3) Winning the pennant in 2000.  It was otherworldly, all soft-focus and slow motion, realizing we were in the World Series for the first time in fourteen years… The world could have ended right then and there, and perfection would have been reached.

2) ‘The Todd Pratt Game,’ knowing instantly that it would be talked about for as long as there were Mets fans… To actually be at that kind of game, and for it to signify the winning of a series, and to share it with my wife and my friends, and just to see the words on the scoreboard that the Mets were going to be playing for the League Championship... it still takes my breath away.

1) The Melvin Mora Game.  Hands down, my favorite moment at Shea Stadium, at the heart of that incredible run of thirty days when the Mets began to fall apart, rose, fought, persevered, made the playoffs, went back to Atlanta, the whole bit.  I love that 162nd game, October 3, 1999, because it was the Mets doing the one thing, even more than winning a World Series, that you always want them to do: They won a game they absolutely, positively had to win.  Remember, when Mora came home on the Wild Pitch to beat the Pirates, they'd technically clinched nothing except the chance to play another day.  But as we've seen the last two Septembers, clinching the chance to play another day is the greatest gift of all.

You have to watch this:




"Wear the moustache", love it!

The upstart Marlins are coming to Citi Field for the first time tonight, and I think it's a perfect opportunity for the Mets to right the ship.

Everyone knows how the Marlins helped seal the Mets' fate each of the last two seasons. This year, they have been sitting atop the NL East, and are being praised by the media, especially for their stockade of young, strong pitching.

On the flip-side, the Mets have been regarded as a team who is not living up to their potential. They can't hit when it counts, their starting pitching is faulty, and their stadium isn't Metsy enough.

This is why the upcoming series is so important. This is a golden opportunity for the Mets to shut us all up, go out there and beat the fish in a decisive manner. We have short memories, so by going out there, and just playing baseball, without thinking, they can erase most of the negativity that's been surrounding this team since Opening Day.

If the opposite happens however, the mental superiority that the Marlins have been building on will be reinforced, and the Mets will try even harder to stop the flooding, which will make it flood even more.

After being reclusive for the last several years, partially due to jail time, Dwight Gooden has seemingly been everywhere in the last week or so. He has been at Citi Field on several occasions, made an appearance at Modell's, and has been very accessible to fans. See Graffitigate. After initially declining, he also attended the Shea Goodbye ceremony last year.

What's interesting to me is that someone who has had such drug and alcohol issues, and been charged for domestic abuse, is so loved by our fanbase. Even more so than many who have lived a straight-edge type of life. Here are a few reasons why.

The Josh Hamilton Effect

People love feel-good, comeback stories. Ask anyone who likes The Natural, and hates Million Dollar Baby. After heading into a post-career downward spiral, one of the "dead-end kids" has seemingly let the past go, and is trying to get his act together. Seeing him before Opening Day with Chris Carlin and Bobby O. was a positive sign for me that SNY and the Mets organization are welcoming him back, and his willingness to be in the public eye takes courage. Onward and upward. He forgave himself, now we have forgiven him. Even if he did throw a no-hitter for the Yankees.

Nostalgia

Doc reminds Mets fans of the 1986 team. The "Bad Boys" who won it all. The last Mets team to win it all, and it harkens back to better days where there were no concerns over "confidence" or "chemistry". When I was 9 years old, my first Mets shirt was a "Doctor KKKKKK" shirt, and I will always imagine him as he was - a freakishly good pitcher, who was the ace of the best Mets team I've ever seen. In our new stadium, that many think doesn't represent the "old" Mets, his face is a breath of fresh air. It also takes our minds off the current team's struggles, and reminds us why we became Mets fans in the first place.

We Want People to Succeed

It's human nature to root for people. That's one reason why there are so many sports fans - we want to see someone win. We internalize it, and feel like a part of  their success when they do. When Doc rose from the ashes like he seemingly has, it was natural for us to boost him up and welcome him back with open arms. Unless you have ego problems, and like to knock people down to feel better about yourself, you want to see Doc do well because it makes you feel better about humanity. Maybe that's a stretch but you catch my drift.

Yesterday, I got to Citi Field for the first time, and let me just say that those who are criticizing it are crazy. Do you not remember Shea at all? It is a fair point to say that some of the seats cut off certain views, and there are some slight obstructions. Also, it didn't scream "The Mets Play Here" very loudly either. But, as far as ballparks go, there is little more you could ask for.

Mary and I first circled the whole park, and the outside -with all the banners and player images- was like a timeline of Mets history. Especially by the Left Field gate, where it starts with Tom Seaver and ends with Johan Santana in chronological order. I loved it.

The Fan Walk was fun to see. The bricks ranged from simple to funny to sentimental, but were all arranged in a cool, spiraly pattern. We then proceeded to the Jackie Robinson (if he played today, he would be unfortunately be called J-Rob) Rotunda and were very impressed. First of all, it was full of people  but it never felt crowded. We got the obligatory #42 picture out of the way, then explored the rotunda for a while from all angles. I could have probably spent an hour in there, and it was quite awe-inspiring.

Then, we hopped on the escalator, and saw Cowbell Man snapping pics with fans. Good to see him back, and it was probably the first time I realized I was really at a Mets game again. We walked around the entire field level for about 45 minutes, and I kept expecting security to say "where's your ticket", but no such thing occurred. We wandered down the first base side and it reminded me much of a combination between the ballparks in Detroit, Baltimore, and Philly, which was both weird yet exciting because those parks are great.

The World's Fare Market was very unexpected. All types of snacks and drinks that you would never dream of seeing at Shea were on sale. Plus, the benches and tables everywhere were another reminder that I was not at Shea anymore. The likeness of the Kosciuszko Bridge which connects Brooklyn and Queens, but symbolically the old and new of NY baseball, was a wonderful touch. Actually gave me the chills. I'm not sure if that is the intention, but I'll pretend that it was.

What I would encounter next took some time to register. The beer island with more than just Bud Light and Bud. How could this be?! Then, from right to left...a dunk tank, mini Citi Field for kids, batting cages, Blue Smoke, Shake Shack, the old skyline from Shea, Taqueria, Box Frites, and tables with seats were everywhere. I know I'm missing something but you get the point. I was like, "where are we?!". We laughed that we would never have to drink crappy beer, soggy fries, or uncooked chicken tenders again. Also, there was no longer the need to grab a $5 footlong before heading to Shea. Every food option you could want was here, and get this, it seemed cheaper than Shea. We got two pulled pork sandwiches, two waters, a Bud Light,a Blue Smoke Ale (good stuff), and fries for $42. It doesn't seem cheap, but consider the fact that you would get much lower quality food for about the same price or more at Shea, and the value has certainly gone way up. Plus you can still get the Nathan's crinkle fries if that's your thing.

After trying to drop the chick in the dunk tank (into foam, not water which was disappointing), and meeting Mr. Met again at his "sit on Santa's lap" type stage, it was off to our seats in the Promenade.

We seemed closer to the action than when we were at Shea. My one criticism is that the railing and steps people used to climb upward were blocking home plate entirely, and although it was clear, I missed many a swing. Also, the color of the wall was black, which I'm sure helps the players, but again, nothing really screamed Mets to me. Lastly, unless you are an old park such as Wrigley and Fenway, there is no logical reason to build a field with such little foul territory. Fans can interfere (and did), and players can get hurt. Also, I miss the Azek Trimboards strikeout counter too. Whatever, the place was awesome. I didn't feel like I was at a Mets Home Game though and I suspect that will take time. I do like that there are fans in the outfield now as it seems a bit more intimidating with everyone closer to the action, plus you can see less of Queens in the background which is a good thing.

After the game, we roamed around again, and noticed the seats that fans are griping about in Left Field. I get that it's slightly obstructed, but y'all are crazy.

Then we found the Caesar's Club. Wow. You can supposedly go in there during or after the game and grab a drink in a very luxurious space. I don't know if this will always be the case, but again, they weren't ushering us out!  The Caesar's Club is a place I expect to find myself quite often. It seemed like a very nice hotel restaurant.

Oh yeah! And there are accessible elevators everywhere with possibly the nicest Mets employees I have ever run across. The bathrooms are quite nice too. Well done Wilpons.

Overall, it is a great park. Do they need to Metify it a bit? Yes. But all you complainers out there really need to chill out. I have been reading about Citi Field for a long time now, and it exceeded my expectations. Although I knew the food was better, I didn't really allow myself to believe it. But it is. The same can be true for pretty much all of it, and it is hard not to be proud of the new Mets' ballpark. However, I still have unintentionally been calling it Shea. I wonder if that will ever change.

Check out my flickr set for some of my favorite shots from the day, and I will post an extended slideshow in the right railing later today.

My sister informed me about Mark "The Bird" Fidrych's tragic end this evening. Of all the players who I've watched play this game, literally no one has been as captivating and as intriguing to me as Mark Fidrych, even though I've only watched him in replays.

OK, Turk Wendell was entertaining, but Fidrych was the original. Fans would pack Yankee Stadium in their lean years just to see Fidrych throw, and get this...they would cheer for an opposing pitcher!

Here's an interview that exemplifies who he was:



Goodbye to a great part of MLB history.

Misery loves company, so tonight I will be heading to Landsdowne Road, located at 599 10th Avenue for the game.

There are drink specials and free drinks are given out for every David Wright home run.  Check out their website for more info.

The only time I was ever in Citi Field was when it was being built. To see what it once was - a muddy, sloppy, mess - check out my Flickr pics.

I am also harboring some very sour grapes towards those who are going tonight. Very jealous, to the point that I don't want to hear your stories about how great it is there, or see any of your first hand pics. Lucky (or rich) bastards!

I am very glad to have meaningful baseball back, but I am not glad to have Chris Carlin as the replacement for Matt Yallof.



Every time I see him, I can't help but think of this famous clip.



It needs to stop. And while I'm on the subject, why does everyone at SNY have way too much makeup on, and tweeze their eyebrows to the point of no return? (See Brandon Tierney, Jonas Schwartz, and Eamon McAnaney). I'm just sayin'.