Quirky players and quirky sets in countdown of Topps top 60 cards

Moving into the top 20 of the Topps greatest 60 cards of all time, we're encountering some of the game's great characters -- and the company's greatest sets.

No. 20, 1974 George Theodore

Can you imagine if George Theodore had been a Yankee? They’d have sucked the color from him like a vampire. But as a member of the Mets, he’s a legend despite just two part-time seasons where he demonstrated no significant prowess. But he was wonderfully quirky, with his gangly physique that earned him the nickname “The Stork,” and spouting quotes like, “I've been trying transcendental meditation, and that helps me be passive and wait on the curve. I've got to find something else to hit the slider." He’s likely the only Met with Basil for a middle name, and to come from Utah, where he is enshrined in the state’s Sports Hall of Fame. And he’s just as famous for his horrific outfield collision with Don Hahn in 1973, just another odd aspect of that incredible season. And one of the best things about the spectacular 1974 set is that in includes a card of Theodore, with legendary cartoon on the back proclaiming that George like marshmallow milkshakes.


No. 19, 1971 Bud Harrelson

Speaking of quirky, the 1971 shot is one of Topps’ best – and most unusual. The company started to use more action photos, but it seemed like a bunch of them were taken from the stands. Buddy Harrelson’s horizontal beauty is a classic example. There are four players in the photo and one umpire. We’re assuming that Buddy is the one placing the tag on the apparent Astro since he’s a shortstop. The second baseman, whom I believe to be Ken Boswell, is running to back up the throw, and it looks like Nolan Ryan is quietly pumping his fist in celebration. These days, Topps would likely crop in tight on Buddy and the Astro and PhotoShop out Boswell and it just wouldn’t be as fun.



No. 18, a tie between 1974 Bud Harrelson and 1974 Tug McGraw

Yeah, I’m cheating a little here. But these cards go together like Jose Reyes and triples, Endy Chavez and amazing catches and Oliver Perez and stink.

Both are great portraits, and not the kind usually associated with baseball cards. Topps sets for most of the 1960s were littered with Big Head, No Hat shots, and most looked like mug shots.

Buddy’s capless, but it seems intended to show off his ‘do. And Tug’s wearing his cap, but it looks like he’s having a nice conversation with fans. Had this been in the 1971 set, we’d have seen the fans he was talking to, plus a dozen more in the section, two vendors and half of Flushing Meadows Park.

Buddy gets points for coming back to the Mets as coach, then a brief tenure at the helm before being the face of Long Island minor league baseball with the Ducks.

No. 17, 2008 Johan Santana

This Santana shot is more typical of the modern Topps action shot. A little better, actually because it’s incredibly crisp, and the colors all just work together beautifully. Johan has an unusual motion, on display here, and this must be what a batter sees. And look how clearly Santana signs his name! He’s an ace is all aspects of the game.


No. 16 2009 Heritage Carlos Delgado

I was torn between two Delgado cards. The 2008 Heritage set uses the 1959 set, and it’s pretty perfect, with the headshot in the circle showing Carlos with a nice smile. But the 2009 card is equally perfect, using the 1960 card as the template. This time we get a menacing Carlos posing in his stance. That must have been the look Yankee pitchers got on July 27, 2008 when he hit a grand slam and recorded a team record 9 rbis, part of a glorious 15-6 rout at that ugly ballpark in the Bronx. Many Yankee fans wept that day. The card shows him wearing the Shea Stadium patch from that year, and that blue cap just looks beautiful.


No. 15, 1993 Todd Hundley

Remember when Hundley was our best player? He broke the record for most home runs in a season by a catcher, and the Mets’ season record, too. Javy Lopez broke the catchers record and Carlos Beltran tied the Mets mark. Some people note the Todd was mentioned in the Mitchell Report. But Mets don’t do steroids. Hundley was pushed aside when Mike Piazza came, and there is certainly no shame in that. His attempt to move to leftfield was laudable, though not successful. I like this card for a couple reasons. First, there is the trophy for being named to the Topps All-Star Rookie team. Then, this is a great action shot. It looks like Todd chased an errant throw back behind the plate and is getting ready to rocket the ball back. But I do notice that he’s wearing a batting practice jersey, so it could be a spring game, or he’s faking an action shot. But Mets don’t fake action shots.


No. 14, 1989 Darryl Strawberry

Speaking of fallen heroes, I was torn between two Darryl cards. His 1985 card is fantastic, as crisp as a Topps base set photograph can get. It shows Straw after a mighty swing, looking to survey the damage before breaking into his run. All the elements work – the uniform, the card design, and the background. I went with the 1989 card instead, which also has a great design, with his beautiful home uniform working with the card colors. This photo isn’t quite as crisp, but shows Straw early in his swing with the leg up high and hands back and low, eyes intently focused on the incoming pitch before he launches.


No. 13, 2001 Heritage Edgardo Alfonzo

Topps has done a nice job with its Heritage cards, and this one calls back to the 1952 set. Fonzie seems like the guy the Mets seemed to take for granted. He was an undrafted free agent, and worked his way up through the system and was moved around the infield in his first year. He was outstanding at third, moved to second when the team landed Robin Ventura and then headed back when Roberto Alomar came around. His run in the 1999 playoffs was epic. His leadoff home run was all Al Leiter needed in the tie-breaker against the Reds, and he lead off the first game against the Diamondbacks with a home run off Randy Johnson and smacked a grand slam in the ninth to break a tie.


No. 12, 1992 Stadium Club Howard Johnson

HoJo’s apparently lost his job as Mets hitting coach, but tutoring batters isn’t going to be his claim to fame anyway. My favorite HoJo story involves his comeback attempt during the 1997 spring training. It became apparent that the magic was gone, but Bobby Valentine kept him around all spring and giving him at bats. Why? Each time he was greeted with a standing ovation. HoJo played with the Rockies and Cubs after departing from the Mets in 1994, and the spring turned out to be a curtain call for the fans to say thanks for the late 1980s and early 1990s. This Stadium Club card is a great portrait.


No. 11, 1964 Casey Stengel

Topps used a nearly exact photo for the 1965 set, both cards are wonderful. “The Ole Professor” is holding court on the dugout steps, and I imagine it’s the Polo Grounds since the steps don’t look brand new. Holding court was what Casey did best in those years, since we know he was fond of napping during games and turning things over to the coaches.

Next we’ll move into the top 10, which is difficult since I have about 15 cards I wanted to cram in there.

Baseball Place No. 27: Baseball Boulevard; Alternative place No. 27A: Thomas White Stadium/Tradition Field

Anybody having a good time at spring training this year – and that includes me – needs to thank Al Lang.

Early teams bounced around southern states in the weeks before a new season to get their players in shape.

Lang, the mayor of St. Petersburg, saw the potential in bringing teams together in one spot, train and play practice games before paying customers.

St. Pete in 1913 was a dry town, which appealed to folks like Branch Rickey, who thought it might be a good idea to keep players focused on baseball.

Today, Lang is remembered with a stadium named in his honor and a street.

Baseball Boulevard stretches the 10 blocks between Al Lang Stadium and the Tropicana Dome, where the Rays spend the season. It's also the home of the Ted Williams Museum.

It's of special note to Mets fans because the team trained there between 1969 and 1987, sharing the complex with the Cardinals. I found that poster with the schedule for both teams at a card show in Michigan. Clearly the pitcher is Seaver, but I can't figure out why the artist decided to give him a moushstache.

The street begins with a bust of Lang, and historic moments in spring training are reflected on monuments along the way.

Josh Pahigian selected Baseball Boulevard to be spot No. 27 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I’ve never been to St. Petersburg, but I have seen the Mets numerous times in their new home in Port St. Lucie.

Alternative place No. 27A: Thomas White Stadium/Tradition Field

It was a big deal when the Mets made the move across the state in 1988. Here’s what General Manager Frank Cashen said about the new spot in the spring program:

“And about the setting, you can call the new St. Lucie County Sports Complex anything you want, but please don’t spare the adjectival superlatives. ‘Terrific,’ ‘Fantastic.’ ‘Outstanding’ – none of them are laudatory enough. ‘Matchless’ and ‘Incomparable’ are probably a little closer.”

So Frank liked the place. Other people called it “Port St. Lonesome” because the new complex was considered in the middle of nowhere, one of the first stages of development in the area.

There was some truth to that. And the ballpark was kind of cold, long on poured concrete and short on charm.

That’s all changed, as you know from the post with photos from my recent trip. Now called Tradition Field, the ballpark is one of the nicer ones I’ve seen and the setting is beautiful.

But let’s take a look back at some of the early days. My folks moved about 40 minutes south of St. Lucie in the early 1990s, and naturally we started making annual treks to see the Mets.

Sunshine Sis joined me for a game in 1993.

Thomas J. White Stadium was named for the developer behind the St. Lucie project.

Not a lot to see along the third base side. Today there's a tiki bar and tables. And trees.

Right field before the addition of the berm seating area. The scoreboard's been expanded and moved to left.
There's not a bad seat in the house.

We were there for the Jeff Torborg era. Here's the skipper bringing out the lineup card.

HoJo meets some fans.
Maybe we should have held on to Jeff Kent -- but hire someone to wash his monster truck.
I have no idea what Eddie Murray was swinging in the on-deck circle. But it looked intimidating. Luckily Eddie took at regular bat to the plate.

Here's a later shot, notable because I was able to catch Mo Vaughn in action. Sort of, it's an intra-squad game.

Shea Quest '08: The last victory

Shea Memory Countdown No. 6: July 21, 1991. Mets 9, Dodgers 4

I pitched the story to my Flint Journal editors with a straight face.

This was 1991, and the Tigers were debating what to do with their ancient stadium.

Let me, a photographer, and a sports copy editor go on a ballpark tour to Fenway Park, Yankee Stadium, Memorial Stadium, Baltimore and Shea.

Why those parks? They represented all the things the Tigers could do to Tiger Stadium.

The Red Sox had an ancient park and made upgrades to preserve it. The Yankees made dramatic renovations to their stadium. Baltimore was in the process of building a new – but old-fashioned – ballpark.

And Shea?

Well, yeah. Of course the Tigers would want to copy Shea. It’s Shea Stadium!

I’m nothing if not transparent. The photographer and sports copy editor were my two best friends, John and Will.

But it was a neat idea for a story. And it didn't cost the paper a dime. The sports editor signed off as long as we provided our own transportation and lodging.

And that was OK, because his approval allowed us to seek press credentials from the teams – the magical passes that granted us access to the field and the press box, providing for a closer view than we’ve ever had of those ballparks.

We had mixed responses from the teams. The Red Sox gave a photo credential to John, and the rest of us were welcome to buy tickets and interview fans in the stands.

The Orioles were at the other end of the spectrum, offering full access to the field and press box and a hard hat tour of the under-construction Camden Yards. That day provided a series of adventures best told another time.

Both the Mets and Yankees also offered appropriate field and press box access.

We made Shea a two-day stop, getting tickets for the first game. July 20, 1991 was a sweltering afternoon, and very little good came of it for the Mets.

The team chased Orel Hershiser with four in the fourth, but the Dodgers unloaded on Wally Whitehurst and Doug Simons. New Dodger Darryl Strawberry went 2 for 5, and the game ended 11-7 with LA on top.

The apple and scoreboard from the third-baseman's point of view.

We returned early the next day, picking up our credentials, trying not to let the excitement overwhelm professionalism. I just wanted to absorb everything.

When you have field access you can walk just about anywhere in foul territory and dugouts during batting practice. John was the official photographer, but I was snapping shots without being obvious.

We stepped out to find Tommy Lasorda walking laps around the field shirtless. We averted our eyes. But he did say, “Hiya, fellas.”

HoJo picks out his lumber for BP.

Then staff started unloading equipment, putting bats and helmets into the racks before players started coming out of the tunnel for batting practice.

The first group included Tom Herr, Rick Cerone, Hubie Brooks and Kevin Elster with Mike Cubbage looking on. Howard Johnson was the biggest player to eventually come out and swing while we were on the field.

The television crews came out and set up for interviews. Don Drysdale was working for Fox and interviewed Lasorda, now fully dressed.


We made our way up to the press box. We were assigned to the auxiliary box, located between home plate and first base. It was pretty small, with only two or three rows of seats.

Will and I snagged seats in the front row and were happily going through the pile of stats and game notes that are available for the media. The other seats had filled at this point.

This was our view from the auxiliary press box, for a while.

After a while, a security guard came over, saw us and said, “Hey!” We turned around.

“You! Out!” he said, pointing, then extending his thumb.

“We have credentials,” I replied, showing him the red cardboard hanging around my neck on a string.

“Find another seat,” he said, as two other media members made their way into our newly vacated spots.

“But there aren’t any other seats,” I said.

“Not my problem,” he said. “You can stand anywhere you want.”

So we did. And, “You! Out!” has become one of our catch phrases. That was a lot of New York attitude, which in a way was refreshing after a year in Michigan.

It was kind of hard to watch the game, standing and moving around. Dwight Gooden was pitching against former Met Bob Ojeda, who was running out of magic.

HoJo hits the cage.

Buddy Harrelson got tossed arguing balls and strikes when the Dodgers went up by three in the second, but the Mets torched Ojeda in the third when five players – including Gooden – hit doubles.

This photo on the 1992 Stadium Club card is from the big game!

Each team tacked on another run, ending with a 9-4 win for the good guys – but you can’t say that in the press box.

Little did I know it would be 17 years before I’d return to Shea – and it’s still the last time I saw the team win in person.

And the story, I might add, came out pretty good.

Here are some other shots I thought were kind of neat. If it moved, I took its photo. If it didn't move, I also took its photo.

Who else won't be at the reunion?

This Saturday is the big celebration at Shea of the glorious 1986 champions. A big reunion was planned, and potentially it was a very cool march down memory lane. But as players start dropping like flies, I’m starting to wonder who exactly is going to show up to this thing.

As my wife said, Mookie could have that plate of cocktail wieners at the reception all to himself.

Here’s the list of players and other folks who have either announced they’re not showing up at Shea, or the excuses I expect them to use by the end of the week.

Darryl Strawberry: Straw already said he’s not coming. He invented some excuse about being bitter about the Mets not paying some of his deferred salary to pay off tax issues. We know the truth. Darryl’s gone Yankee. And once you’ve gone Yankee, you don’t come back. He even appeared an at Old-Timer’s Day over there. There’s still some prodigal son-like hope for him. But he’s been brainwashed, caring more about the 26 championships the Yankees talk about seemingly between every break in the action than the one he won with us in 1986.

Dwight Gooden: Well, we know that Doc is a guest at the hotel with the striped shadows down there in Florida. At least his orange jumpsuit is kind of like the bating practice jersey we used to wear.

Howard Johnson: HoJo just served a 10-game suspension as the Tides hitting coach for leaving the team without permission. Do you really think he’s going to risk leaving the team again?

Randy Niemann: Niemann is the pitching coach for the Tides. After seeing what happened to HoJo -- and having much less fan appeal -- Niemann isn’t leaving the stadium to sleep, much less head to New York.

Lee Mazzilli: Lee can’t come because he’s Joe Torre’s bench coach. Apparently Joe can’t find anyone else to do those essential tasks delegated to bench coaches, like taping the lineup card to the dugout wall. Seriously, what do these guys do? It can’t be that hard. After all, Don Zimmer held the job for years.

Rick Anderson: He was on the roster for part of the year, but not for the post-season. Now he’s the pitching coach for the Minnesota Twins. I suspect he’s already in hot water for allowing stud rookie Francisco Liriano’s arm to practically fall off this past week. He won’t risk straying far from the Metrodome, lest he come back and find his 1986 World Series ring and other possessions in a cardboard box on the front step.

Gary Carter: Carter is managing the St. Lucie Mets as we speak. He’s not shy about saying he should be managing the Mets because he guided a short-season rookie league team in the Gulf Coast League to the championship. I don't think Willie wants Kid anywhere near Shea, at least not without a food-tester to make sure Carter doesn’t, ahem, create at opening at the major-league level.

Doug Sisk: We didn’t invite Doug Sisk. We’re trying to purge Doug Sisk from all team records.

John Gibbons: Gibbons is managing the Toronto Blue Jays, where his assigned task is keeping the Yankees out of the playoffs. And not doing a very good job, I might add.

Roger McDowell: The class clown of the 1986 champs is another employee on special assignment. The Braves think he is their pitching coach. We know he’s on our payroll, driving Atlanta’s pitching staff right into the ground.

Kevin Mitchell: The last thing we heard about Mitchell and the Mets is that he was freaking out teammates and threatening to behead cats. Can you imagine what would happen if he showed up at the reunion? Cat Fanciers, Garfield fanatics, little girls with Hello Kitty! T-shirts, Kit Kat candy eaters -- they’d all be protesting and boycotting.

Davey Johnson: Davey, our former manager, now works as a consultant for the Nationals, where he is undermining Frank Robinson so he can return to managing.

Randy Myers: You just know that with all the unrest in the world, Myers is working in some jungle as a mercenary. Even if we tracked him down, getting him through airport security at LaGuardia would be a challenge.

Jesse Orosco: Orosco, the major-league leader in games pitched, is still playing somewhere. I’m convinced.

Ed Hearn: On a serious note, Hearn was diagnosed with focal segmental glomerulosclerosis in 1991, and he has suffered from poor health ever since. He was treated for cancer twice, underwent three kidney transplants, and requires mechanical assistance to breathe. His condition forces him to take more than fifty types of medication on a daily basis. Let’s pray for this guy to recover!

Lenny Dykstra: “Nails” wasn’t the sharpest guy in the world, and there are those rumors that he kind of got involved with steroids while playing for the Phillies. He’s probably going to confuse John Mitchell, the pitcher, with George Mitchell, who is leading the steroids investigation for MLB, and stay far away, lest he have to answer some questions.

Wally Backman: Poor Wally. That thing with the Diamondbacks was kind of sad. I wouldn’t be shocked if he’s a recluse, but I hope he shows up.

Sid Fernandez: “El Sid” moved back to his native Hawaii and was hired as an cutive assistant to Mayor of Hawaii Jeremy Harris. Allegedly his job assignment was to find sponsors and users for sporting facilities on Oahu. Truth is that with Jack Lord dead, the government needed someone to take over Five-0, but with a lower profile. That does, however, explain why “Book ‘em Mookie!” became an island catch phrase. With Wo Fat on the loose again, I don’t think Sid’s going to be able to shake free.

Bob Ojeda: Last I heard, Bob stormed away from being the pitching coach of the Binghamton Mets after Rick Peterson got the major-league job. Allegedly he was muttering something about being able to fix Victor Zambrano is just five minutes!. Now he’s teamed up with Rich Gedman to be pitching coach for the Can-Am League’s Worchester Tornadoes.

Ray Knight: Knight’s post-Mets career is best remembered for serving as a caddy for his wife, pro golfer Nancy Lopez. It’s well-known around the Mets that Tom Glavine likes to hit the links. Knight probably fears that he’ll be forced to carry Tommy’s clubs, a job formerly held by Jose Offerman. That’s the only reason I can think of why Offerman was on last year’s team.

Tim Teufel: Backman’s platoon partner was managing the St. Luice Mets until Gary Carter decided he needed a promotion. Now Teufel’s “taking a year off.” Think he’s bitter?

Rafael Santana: Raffy is ticked off because every time some loudmouth columnist says a team needs a great shortstop to win, someone always says “Well, the Mets won with Rafael Santana.” I’d still take him over Derek F. Jeter.

Danny Heep: Since 1998, Heep has been head coach for the University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio. They claim to be a Catholic school, but that kind of sounds like a cult to me.

Bud Harrelson: Bud is co-owner and third base coach for the Long Island Ducks. I’m not saying it’s a small operation, but he also drags the infield, works in the parking lot -- which is a lot like being third base coach -- and sells soft-serve ice cream in little plastic Ducks helmets. He’d come to the reunion, but the Duck would be in chaos.

Rick Aguilera: Rick ended his playing days and went on tour with is daughter Christina, where he supervises the roadie that runs on stage to replace her body piercings when one shakes loose during a particularly hot move.


Keith Hernandez: Mex, of course, is a star of the Mets television broadcasts. But we know what happened in San Diego. Rumors are that Keith scanned the guest list, saw Terry Leach on there and said “Terry’s a girl’s name and they don’t belong in the dugout.” and decided he’s not coming.

Ron Darling: Darling shares the booth with Keith Hernandez. But since Keith’s not going to come down the field, that leaves Ron free to come down and share in the festivities with Mookie Wilson.

So my wife is incorrect. Mookie won’t have the cocktail franks to himself after all.

In other words:

I suspect Bob Sikes has a much better handle at who won't be at the reunion. His always excellent blog is www.gettingpaidtowatch.com

"El Duque" joins Mets all-nickname team

Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez has been with the Mets for a week, and he’s already assumed a valuable spot.

Of course, I’m talking about the Mets’ All-Nickname team.

Nicknames are an important part of baseball, the Mets have had some of the best, especially in those early years.
But first the ground rules: No one makes the team with a lame Chris Berman name. By and large, I think they’re dopey and not something an average fan would throw out there.

A proper nickname has to roll off the tongue and be universally recognized and even stand on it’s own. When you say "The Franchise," everybody knows who you are talking about.

Another rule: Shortened last names don’t count. Sorry "Straw" and "Maz." There's one near exception, and we'll get to that in a minute.

First Base: “Marvelous Marv" Throneberry
If there was ever a man destined to be a Met, it was Marvin Eugene Throneberry. His play left something to be desried. OK, a lot to be desired. But Marv was a colorful guy, and all we had in those early years was color. The other option was Dave "Kong" Kingman, but I just don't like him very much.

Second base: Elijah Jerry “Pumpsie” Green
Green is famous for integrating the Red Sox, but he closed out his career by appearing in 17 games for the 1963 Mets, hitting .278 with one homer. He came in a trade with Tracy Stallard for Felix Mantilla, a trifecta of unusual names. The Sox later restored blandness by adding a guy named Al Moran as the player to be named later.

Third base: Howard “HoJo” Johnson
As you have no doubt guessed, this is the near exception to the no shortened last name rule. In this case, we get the shortened first and last names. This guy was so good they named a restaurant after him. Seriously, what were his parents thinking? And once the Mets had a guy in their minor league system named Ronald McDonald. Imagine if HoJo and Mickey D were ever on the same team?

Shortstop: Derrel McKinley “Bud” Harrelson
Truth is, shortstop is the weak spot in the lineup. I love Buddy, don't get me wrong. It's not just the strongest nickname out there.

Outfield:
Daniel Joseph “Rusty” Staub, "Le Grande Orange"
Mr. Staub was such a good player that he needed two nicknames, one in French. I’m guessing the names stem from his red hair, but we should never assume too much. Rusty of course had two runs with the Mets, the second of which inspired a third name, “Guy who doesn’t run or play in the field.”

Roger “You Suck” Cedeno
I confess I am perplexed by this one. But it seemed like every time mild-mannered Roger was introduced, I’d hear “You Suck Cedeno!” which seems like an unusual nickname. Perhaps it comes from Cedeno’s magical power to turn opponent's routine flyball outs into triples.

Lenny "Nails" Dykstra and William Hayward "Mookie" Wilson
They were platooned on the Mets, so they share that fate here as well. Dykstra liked to think he was tough as nails. I met at a card show once and asked him to sign the glorious Mets book. As he was signing I asked him if he could write "Nails" there as well. He misspelled it, looked up and sheepishly said "Oops" and tried to fix it. So that goes to show you that while Dykstra might have been tough as nails, he was not sharp as a tack. Mookie, who had no trouble spelling his name, has transcended sports with a name that has since been bestowed to countless pets.

Back-up outfielder: George Basil “Stork” Theodore
Stork was a monster in the minors but his time at Shea is probably best remembered by his horrific collision with Don Hahn in 1973 that broke his hip. Stork ended up hitting just .219 with two homers in his career, but was fondly remembered a colorful character. And as the cartoon on the back of his 1974 Topps card says, “George likes marshmallow mikeshakes.”

Catcher: Clarence “Choo Choo” Coleman
“Choo Choo” was a bit of a mystery. He called everyone “Bub.” There’s a famous story about Coleman appearing on Kiner’s Korner, and Ralph, frustrated by the short non-answers he was getting, tried to lighten Coleman up by asking “Choo Choo, what is your wife’s name, and what’s she like?” His response: “Her name is Mrs. Coleman, and she likes me, Bub.” The real mystery is how Coleman got on the show in the first place, since it was reserved for the stars of that day’s game. Coleman appeared in 106 games in 1963 despite hitting a whopping .178. And it’s not like he was any good in the field, he had 15 errors. But his name was good enough to beat Don Robert "Duffy" Dyer.

Starting rotation
George Thomas Seaver "The Franchise"
Any Mets rotation begins with Seaver, of course! He was probably called "Tom Terriffic" more often.

Wilmer David "Vinegar Bend" Mizell
I assume he is called that because he was born in Vinegar Bend, Alabama. Mizell had some nice years with the Pirates, but like the rest of the 1962 team, there was very little left in the tank and he was released after 17 games and a nasty 7.34 ERA. He later went on to join an even more suspect group of misfits -- the U.S. Congress!

Dwight "Dr. K," "Doc" Gooden
Gooden's nickname became so oft-mentioned that Topps actually replaced Dwight with Doc on baseball cards. Gooden for a time wanted another nickname, "Uptown." No kidding. There was a story in the program and everything. Thankfully, that ended in a hurry. But in hindsight it shows that Doc was more messed up than we ever suspected at the time.

Frank "Sweet Music" Viola
I suppose that when your last name matches a stringed instrument, this is about as good of a nickname as you are going to get. But Frank was a Long Islander, so that makes him A-OK with us. Some might say that Kenny "The Gambler" deserves a spot in the rotation, but I'm still not forgiving him for the infamous walk to Andruw Jones.

Bullpen: Frank Edwin "Tug" McGraw
My cat is named after Tug McGraw. It's true. My wife decided that she would get final say over names given to children, and I'd get final say over names bestowed on pets. She might have made this rule after I wanted to name our first-born "Mookie." My goldfish is named "Costco."

Manager: Lawrence Peter "Yogi" Berra
Yogi's suffering at the hands of the Yankees is well-documented, and he didn't get the respect he deserved as manager of the Mets, either. But he gets on this team, well ahead the colorless group of manager names we've trotted out there, from Wes to Joe to Davey to Art.

There you go! Let me know if I've missed anybody.

In other words...

Fellow out-of-state Mets fan Dan Ziegler has moved his site to a new place. You can find him at www.lonestarmets.com