Mets ornament of the day: Jose Reyes in happier times

It's going to be a little crowded on the back of the tree in the baseball room, because Jose was a popular ornament subject.

In going through the loss of Reyes to the Marlins – a rival I confess to not openly hating – I quickly moved through the denial, anger and bargaining stages and went straight to depression.

But we can't have a blue Christmas. Oh, maybe a blue and orange Christmas. The second of the Forever Collectibles Reyes ornaments takes us to a happier place, where Jose is frolicking at Shea with hamstrings unstrained and that platinum smile lightening up a Flushing night.

On the other hand, this ornament looks even less like Reyes than the black jersey version. We can pretend that this one is actually Mike Cameron, Darryl Hamilton, Bruce Boisclair or any of the other 800-plus players to wear a Mets uniform.

Tomorrow we'll be able to move along to the acceptance stage and write about a less-traumatic ornament.

Mets ornament of the day: Jose Reyes, headed to the back of the tree

Well, guess who is going to be hanging in the back of the tree this year.

Forever Collectibles had several years making larger ornaments of individual players, none of which drew even a passing resemblance of the player intended to be depicted.

I suspect this is like that first year of Starting Lineup figures, where the company had about five poses and five heads – “Slap the white guy with mustache head on the batting figure and call it 'Howard Johnson.'”

I'm not complaining too much, because Forever sometimes got some details right, like uniform patches.

The company made several Jose Reyes ornaments, and I chose this one one for today. The soon-to-be-dispatched black jersey fits the mood and is symbolic of the mourning period we're all entering now that Jose is Miami bound.

Motor City adventures with Manny Acosta, our new favorite Met,

So Manny Acosta is one of my favorite Mets now. Yeah, it surprised me, too.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Caroline and I made the trip to Detroit last week to see our Mets battle the Tigers at Comerica Park. Now, any opportunity to see the Mets is a great and glorious one, but my last two Motor City-Mets meetings have not gone well for our boys.

The first was a 14-0 bengal beatdown in the Mets' first-ever game in Detroit. The second adventure, this time at Comerica in 2007 was a little better, though the Mets still lost 15-7 with Tom Glavine being disappointed but not devastated.

But those games were during the Streak of Shame. Since that was snapped in Cincinnati, I'm a Mets good luck charm, with a 9-0 victory at Citi Field and even a pair of spring training wins.

Detroit fans are a pretty mellow and humble bunch, so I never fear abuse for wearing Mets gear. The Tom Seaver 1969 flannel gets taken out for only the most formal occasions, so with the assistance of the friends in the Crane Pool Forum I opted to wear the 1992 Eddie Murray home jersey. With racing stripes and buttons, it's very tasteful.

We arrived before the gates opened – of course – and stood in line with another Long Island transplant, he wearing a black David Wright road jersey. He said he was surprised that he wasn't getting any abuse, adding that Phillies fans start abusing him even before he gets to the ballpark.

I wasn't too surprised – Phillies fans can be rough, as Rob will confirm. But I was even less surprised when my new friend mentioned that a pre-game ritual is driving through the streets of Philly with a Chase Utley jersey dragging behind the car. That's hardcore.

We made our way to the first row alongside the Mets dugout to watch batting practice. I brought the glorious Mets book on the off-chance that a player would come by and sign autographs. The Mets are notorious non-signers, and I'm usually very happy to get just a wave.

But third base coach Chip Hale came along, then Scott Hairston. That's two signatures added to the hundreds in the book, and one more than the 2007 encounter, when only Jorge Sosa was willing to be included in the tome.

Brother-in-law Jeff's advice about StubHub was spot-on, so much so that a Comerica usher thought we were seat-crashing in out spots in the aisle 25 rows behind Mets dugout. He was apologetic after I produced the tickets, and our new friend, offering two Tigers pocket schedules with Justin Verlander and much discussion throughout the game. He thought Jose Reyes would look good in a Tigers uniform.

And, as if his ears were burning, Jose led off with a hit, moved to second and scored on Daniel Murphy's double. The Murphy scored on Angel Pagan's double. The team already was ahead of the 1997 game.

But the best was to come in the fourth inning. Josh Thole launched an absolute bomb into the right field bleachers. Then Reyes tripled and came around on a Willie Harris hit.

My daughter was keeping score, and we discussed strategy amid the glorious scoring. With men on third and second and first base open and two out, I explained that Angel Pagan would get nothing to hit and probably walk because the Tigers would rather pitch to Jason Bay, who, I explained, is a bum.

Daddy looked wise when Pagan did, in fact, walk. And he looked like a dunce when Bay ripped one down the left field line, just around the foul pole and into the stands for a grand slam.

The Mets had not him a grannie since 2009, and have given up 18 of them since, mostly to the Phillies. So this historic moment was appreciated and apologies extended to Mr. Bay.

The next inning the Mets loaded the bases again, this time with Carlos Beltran at the dish. Beltran, I explained, is not a bum. But it would be too much to ask for another grand slam from a team seemingly allergic to them. Nobody told that to Beltran, and he smacked one over the left-centerfield wall for the second slam in as many innings.

There was only mild concern when the Tigers' Austin Jackson cracked a two-run homer in the bottom of that inning and when Andy Dirks send one deep in the seventh.

The Mets tacked on one more to make it 14, sending most of the Tigers fans packing. Caroline and I moved down a little closer so we could get photos of the post-game celebration, rare as they might be with me in attendance.

Now, I confess. I have said some unkind things about Mets pitcher Manny Acosta in the past. I was not entirely thrilled to see him take the hill in the ninth inning, even with a 14-3 game seemingly in hand.

But Brennan Boesch popped out to left, Dirks made an out to second, and Don Kelly swung and missed for a strike three, ending the game.

It was fun to see the Mets celebrating the big win, and I knew Acosta had the ball that was used for final out. As he walked to the dugout steps, we called out, “Nice game, Manny!” He looked up and must have seen Caroline and I in our Mets finest, because he smiled and threw us the ball. I had my camera in one hand and grabbed the ball in another, clutching it to my body.

Some kid next to me started pawing me, trying to wrest the ball from my grip.

Then, I heard a voice I had never heard before – coming from me, nonetheless. It was deep and scary.

Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Ball.

The kid pulled his hands away, knowing what was good for him. I promptly gave the ball to my own kid to enjoy.

Manny Acosta. How about that.

A different usher asked to see the ball – he promised to give it back – and then offered to take a photo of me and Caroline. He then directed us to guest services, where the staff members would present us with a certificate proclaiming that we, in fact, had an official ball from a Major League Game.

On the way out I apologized for any unkind things I might or might not have said about Mr. Bay and Mr. Acosta, and we slipped off into the Detroit night for the long trip home, rewarded by the Mets for our devotion.

You've seen the best, now look at the worst Mets cards -- if you dare!

We’ve spent the last couple months looking at the best Mets baseball cards. But its time to look at the flip side, and I don’t mean the place with all the stats.

For every 1986 there is a 1979. Opening Day is nearby, and before we turn away from cards we need to consider the very worst Mets cards offered up by Topps and some of the others companies.

Several things determine a bad card. I’ll allow companies to have an occasional off design, especially when they were issuing dozens of sets for a while.

And you are going to find some dull, lifeless photos. Not every player is Mr. Charisma.

But the ones that get my goat tend to be the cards that show a total lack of caring. We’ve seen great cards, so we know what the companies are capable of. But here’s what happens when they just stop giving a darn.

In year order:

1969 Tommie Agee

Agee played 132 games as a Met in 1968, 61 of them at Shea Stadium, a short drive from the Topps offices. So why does the company show Agee in an old photo in an air-brushed White Sox uniform? It’s not even a classic Topps headshot here, someone airbrushed the uniform. The 1969 set is notorious for its use of recycled photos, even for stars like Tom Seaver. But this just terrible. Tommy deserved better.


1972 Jim Beauchamp

I’ll forgive the airbrushing since Beauchamp arrived in 1972. But couldn’t the photo at least find a shot with his eyes open? It’s not like headshots are all that tough to shoot.


1981 Bill Almon

Hey, Topps photog. When you twist the lens on the front of the camera, you can actually bring things into focus. Brutal.


1983 Rick Ownbey

This is one of Topps best sets, and the design is intended to have a big action shot of a player and a small headshot in the inset. Ownbey appeared in only 8 games in 1982 and 10 in 1983, so I’m glad he has a card at all. But the inset is virtually the same size as the posed shot, and it’s clearly from another shot in the same roll.


1992 Donruss Vince Coleman

Somebody forget to tell the person cropping the photo that we’d rather have a complete Vince in the picture than the complete number 3. This is like a photo of the outfield wall that just happens to include Vice Coleman instead of the other way around.


1992 Topps Stadium Club Bill Pulsipher

Topps did the high school yearbook thing for a number of young players in this set and the Bowman set. I have no idea why. There are too many of these for it to be a fluke, with the company caught without a photo. And the glove shows that there was some thought in the pose. But the shirt, the hair and the off-camera glance make this the worst of a bad bunch.


1997 Fleer Metal Mark Clark

I’m not panning Fleer for trying something a little – well, a lot – different with the fantasy inspired Metal sets. Some of them are pretty cool in an odd kind of way. But it seems like they forgot to include Mark Clark in this Mark Clark card. I look at this and expect to see the stats for the fire-breathing monster on the back.


2004 Upper Deck Play Ball Jose Reyes

This is an artsy painting of Jose Reyes. I know this because it says “Jose Reyes” on the bottom, and not because the painting above bears even the slightest resemblance to our favorite shortstop.


2005 Donruss Champions Roger Cedeno

I’m using this one card to call attention to an entire set. This was a premium issue. I know the companies were looking for some niche audiences. This must be the set aimed at people who didn’t want photos of baseball players cluttering up their bland background baseball cards.


2005 Topps Gallery Kaz Matsui

I suspect this might have been a nice painting of Matsui before some intern left it out in the rain. I know, the Gallery cards where supposed to be artsy fartsy. This painting might even work as a program cover or something. But it’s not a baseball card.


2010 Topps National Chicle Nolan Ryan

I know it looks like I’m down on the art cards. That’s not true, as you can tell from the previous posts. But I’m down on bad art cards. I’d say that it’s nice Topps hired Mrs. Cooper’s third-graders to illustrate a set, but I don’t want to be unkind to third-graders. This looks more like John Maine than Nolan Ryan. Heck, it looks more like me than Nolan Ryan.

Topps all-time countdown continues with Jose Reyes, swiping spot No. 5

No. 5, 2010 Jose Reyes

Is there a player on the Mets who will be watched more closely in 2011 than Jose Reyes?

When Reyes is at his healthy best, he’s the most exciting player in the game. And spacious Citi Field is practically designed to allow players with speed like Reyes to run wild.

Jose already is the team’s all-time leader in stolen bases, with his 331 swipes are way ahead of Mookie Wilson’s 281.

But look at the triples. Reyes has 83. Mookie has 62. The player in third place has 45, a little more than half of Reyes’ total. That player, by the way, is Bud Harrelson, and I wouldn’t have guessed that.

But the nearest active player is Angel Pagan with 19, or No. 13 on the all-time list. Now, that speaks highly of Angel, who has only been on the team for parts of three seasons. But it also means that Reyes is putting that record out of reach.

As the Mets debate whether to trade Reyes in is walk year or lock him up in a long-term deal, Sandy Alderson is going to be looking for more scenes like the one depicted on Reyes’ 2010 card.

Jose has just slid head first into third base. A bewildered Marlin is looking in vain to see if he got the call. But he knows the result. The umpire is making it clear for everyone else in the stadium.

Given the distance from the action and the number of people in the shot, the card recalls the glories of the 1971 set. Though a true '71 action classic would have included two more players, the third base coach and possibly a hot dog vendor.

About the only thing marring the scene is the awful Citi Field inaugural season patch. But we can live with that.

Jose Reyes looked sharp, but I was pretty dizzy after our adventures with the Mets and Hammerheads

Jose Reyes looked pretty impressive when he stepped onto the Roger Dean Stadium field on Thursday. Me -- not so much.

But we had great adventures watching the St. Luice Mets open the season in Jupiter, Fla. against the Hammerheads, the Marlins’ Single-A team in the Florida State League.

Dad, Andrew and I made plans to see the opener long before we knew that the Mets’ star shortstop would be appearing for a rehab game before heading up to New York to join the team.

Being the FSL, I knew getting tickets would not be a problem. We arrived just before the gates opened and bought tickets, landing front-row seats that looked directly into the Mets dugout.

After last season's injury woes, the Mets even get repeated instructions for complicated things like the dugout stairs -- in two languages, no less.

We had barely settled into our sweet seats when a member of the Hammerheads staff appeared with a clipboard, asking if we’d be open to appearing in one of the between-inning entertainment sessions.

It was a rhetorical question, for sure. Andrew and I quickly agreed to take part in the dizzy bat race, signing a waiver protecting the team from everything but us being struck by lightening, and that actually might have been included had I read the document more closely.

By this point the Mets team bus arrived, players already in their road unis with St. Lucie arching across the chest in the same style as the parent club’s New York. Very nice.

It was a treat to see Reyes seemingly having a grand time mixing it up with the other players, laughing and joking as he stretched, usually with a big grin. He was wearing his familiar No. 7 – did a St. Lucie player lose his number for a day? – and batting lead-off.

When a Tigers player rehabs in West Michigan, the place sells out, the fans go nuts and the team later produces a bobble head with the rehabber appearing in his one-day Whitecaps uniform.

That wasn’t the case in Jupiter, where the attendees were better described as a “gathering” rather than as a “crowd.” No complaints from me, mind you, as I made use of my unobstructed and up-close view of my favorite shortstop. Billy Carroll of the Marlins also was in the game for a rehab stint.

With the crowd so silent, it’s easy to hear the umpires and the coaches, and a fastball slamming into the catcher’s glove echoes throughout the park.

Jose grounded out and later took the field, still smiling. The Mets took and early lead, but starter Jeurys Familia was not having his best game.

Just after the top of the third inning started, our friendly Hammerheads staffer appeared and took us over to the third base side of the stands, where we sat with two other staffers and Hamilton R. Head, the Hammerheads’ mascot.

We had a nice chat since it was a long inning. Familia hit three batters, including Carroll, who must have been pissed since he is rehabbing after being beaned in a spring training game.

Hamilton technically couldn’t chat, being a mascot and all, but he contributed to the conversation through hand gestures.

Our host was a recent Michigan State University grad, and we talked baseball and about the joys of working for minor league baseball teams. FSL teams don’t draw well to being with, and the Hammerheads share the stadium with the Palm Beach Cardinals. With a game virtually every night, there’s no rush for folks to head to the park. And because most of the teams in the league play in spring training stadiums, the crowds seem even smaller.

Familia finally retired the side, and we rushed down to the field. Hamilton and a staffer, held a line of crepe paper behind us as a finish line, and our host introduced us to the, um, gathering. Another staffer stood by the rail of the dugout, and I couldn’t figure out why. Did he think I was going to jump the rail and charge the Hammerheads?


Andrew and I were to run a little bit, stand a bat on its end, lean over so it touched our foreheads, and spin around until we were told to run to the finish line.

Now, I’ve watched this type of thing dozens of times at Whitecaps games, and it didn’t seem too tough. When dizzy fans well over, I assumed they either weren’t trying or were tipsy to begin with.

Plus, I was armed with some advice from my friend Sharon, who replied to a Facebook post I sent from the iPhone after being selected.

So I was spinning, spinning and spinning, probably making eight or 10 circles before being told to run.

OK, it’s harder than it looks. I stood up, tried to take a step toward Hamilton. I knew which way to go, but my legs wanted to go elsewhere. All I could see was the green grass, and it was still spinning. I realized I was running at the dugout -- and that was not where I was supposed to be going.

Now I knew why the one staffer was positioned by the dugout, because he tried to catch me as I went sprawling into the dirt. I looked up and saw players just a couple feet away, smiling and laughing.

After being helped up – and with the world no longer spinning – I saw that Andrew had no such trouble and was already holding his crepe paper tape.
Shameful. At least the fans are having fun. Look at the guy in the yellow, and the people in the Hammerheads' dugout.

My first thought: I'm laying in the dirt and Jose Reyes is not impressed.

“I’m so embarrassed!” I said to a staffer. “Don’t worry about it. You did great. That’s what we like to see.”

Our prize was a baseball stress ball and a pair of tickets to a future game. On the downside, I tried to show off my cool Faith and Fear in Flushing T-shirt to the friends in Florida. My flopping around on the dirt probably did little to expand readership. Sorry, Greg and Jason.

Settling back into our seats, We watched Familia continue to self-destruct, and was yanked after giving up 7 runs in 3.2 innings, all the Hammerheads would need.

Naturally, we continued to focus on Reyes, snapping shots of him sitting, standing, talking to teammates, picking out his bat, picking up his glove, shouting encouragement to batters and every other single thing he did. Felt a little bit like a stalker after the fifth inning or so.

Jose, didn’t do much at the plate, only getting one ball into the air. But he made some nice plays in the field.

Being in the front row and the stadium being so quiet, we were free to converse. As Reyes walked back after making one out, we said, “Looking healthy, Jose!” and he turned and smiled. After the game, we said, “Glad to see you back, Jose” and he looked over and said, “Thank you!”

Reyes said in the dugout with hitting coach George Greer after the game, and signed about five baseballs for him, then scooted across the field to the third-base side, where the Mets team bus was waiting. Apparently the players make the 40-minute trip back to St. Lucie before they change.


And Dad, Andrew and I celebrated a fun night with an up-close view of one of our favorite players, ending our already eventful week in Florida on a very high note.

Jose Reyes looking healthy in Jupiter

I was able to see Jose Reyes in a rehab assignment Thursday as the St. Lucie Mets took on the Jupiter Hammerheads. The Mets lost, but it was great to see Jose in action again.

I'll have a full report, because we had some great adventures, including me almost spilling into the Hammerheads dugout.

Here are a couple shots to get going, with more to come!

Searching for Seaver and Starbucks

I hope this new year finds you happy and healthy. We celebrated by heading to downtown Grand Rapids to see the Plain White T’s play outside in sub-20-degree weather and had a blast.

We came back in time for cheese fondue, a warm fire and watching the balls — plural, one in Grand Rapids and the other in Times Square — drop on television.

The waning days 2008 also required some searching, as you’ll see in the first Deezo Friday Five of 2009.

1) I was searching for a shirt to help my sister celebrate her Tom Seaver birthday and came across this slice of glory.

I’ve never seen a Tom Seaver shirt like this, and promptly declared it to be the Greatest Shirt Ever.

The photo was from an eBay listing, and the shirt is a medium, which wouldn’t even fit my son anymore. So I searched and searched online to find a store or site selling it.

None. The only place it would show up was that same eBay posting.

Greg suggested I contact the vendor to see if he has more, or if he could tell me where he got the shirt. Again, a strike out, as the vendor said he had only the medium and didn’t know where got that one.

His listing said the shirt was produced by Majestic, and I scanned the company’s web store, but didn’t see the shirt. Then I fired off an e-mail to the customer service department complete with an attachment showing the design. No word back yet.

So, if anybody has seen this design and knows where I can find one of these beauties, please let me know.

While searching, I came across this orange Seaver shirt that also is really cool, though doesn’t have the retro look of the other design.



2) Speaking of things that are hard to find. Mrs. Mets Guy is a knitter and fell in love with Starbucks’ Christmas decorations, which included shiny red balls with green balls of yarn used to make wreaths.

We’re in Starbucks enough that I know far too much about the baristas and baristos — is that what you call a guy who works there? — and one day I mentioned her appreciation of the wreaths and asked if I could buy one after the holidays.

The manager said he’d be happy to save one for me. And the day after Christmas I was in there and noticed that the wreaths were down, and assumed the manager had one in the back waiting for my all-to-frequent arrival.

Alas, he said he was confronted by a customer as soon as he opened the doors, and she was very insistent. I think he forgot.

But it’s not like there’s only one Starbucks in the area, or even on that street.

So Monday I went to another, noticed the wreath was still there and inquired. The manager said there were a number of people interested, and she made a rule that they would go to the first person who asked for them on New Year’s Day. And they opened at 7 a.m.

So I set the alarm for 6:15 a.m. despite watching the ball drop and staying up late the night before, and was in the Starbucks parking lot by 6:45 sharp.

I jumped out of the car as soon as the manager turned the key. And she said she doesn’t know what happened, but the wreaths were gone. But I was welcome to a free coffee as a token of apology and some of the other decorations.

I walked out disappointed, but with a tall caramel frappuccino and some other ball and yarn decorations.

Then I realized that there were still more Starbucks, and went across town to another, and saw that not only was a wreath in the window, but there were three in the store!

“About the wreaths,” I asked.

“Stop,” the barista said, cutting me off. “They’re already claimed.”

I predict that next year, Starbucks will come up with a scrapbooking motif to continue tapping into the lucrative craft and latte market.



3) Johan Santana can kick Derek F. Jeter’s butt in baseball bocce.

I know this because I got an awesome Wii baseball game for Christmas — MLB Superstars — that has real players and mascots doing everything but play baseball.

Santana, David Wright and Jose Reyes are among the guys playing bocce on a baseball diamond, dodging gophers and lawnmowers.

They also shoot snacks into the stands using those hot dog-shaped guns mascots use. Mr. Met, in fact, is seen roaming through multiple games, sometimes causing trouble, like when he kicks the ball around in baseball golf.

Some of the gaming sites are wailing on the game. They don’t get it.

There are plenty of games where you can play baseball. But most of us obsessive types notice that the sport bleeds into all the other things we do.

If I’m going to play golf — and you can create your own person in the game — of course I’d rather play it with David, Jose and Johan, and I’d rather play it by hitting the ball with a bat and it would be great fun for all of us to gang up on Derek F. Jeter.



4) My in-laws have a suicidal mailbox.

Or, I should say they had a suicidal mailbox.

We visited last weekend, surviving a challenging, five-hour trek through some of the densest fog ever. We pulled up and debated whether we passed the house, backed up a little and felt a big THUD.

Turns out the mailbox somehow hurled itself into the path of my Vue. It’s not like I could have possibly backed up the driveway and into it. Can’t be my fault.

But we went to Lowe’s the next day and happily picked out a new one -- the Mail Master -- and installed it.

I say happily because this could have been worse in two ways.

First, the wooden pole that goes into the ground and supports the box could have broken, which means we’d have to somehow dig out the old one and get cement to set in the rain-soaked ground. No telling if that would have worked, or how long it would have taken.

Then, it could have been the neighbor’s box. If you think it’s hard to explain to a relative how you ran over their mailbox, image doing it to a stranger without them calling the police.



5) Tuned to the MLB Network debut Thursday night.

Have to say there was much fear when the first thing they do is show an old Yankee game, then roll out Phillie big mouth/shortstop Jimmy Rollins for the “Hot Stove” show.

But, despite Rollins, the show was pretty neat. And next week they’re showing the Ken Burns Baseball epic.

That first aired in 1994, the year of the strike. I was covering the All-Star Game FanFest and was invited to a media breakfast to talk about the documentary.

We were seated at round tables, most with a retired player. I was at a table with former Brooklyn Dodger Joe Black and several people who had no business getting a press pass and, based on their indifference, had never heard of Joe Black.

I knew he was the 1952 Rookie of the Year, and had spent eight years in the Negro Leagues before getting a crack at the majors. I think I impressed him when I correctly pronounced the name of his team, the Elite Giants, which sounds like e-LIGHT Giants.

“I think you’re the first white guy to pronounce that the right way,” he said with a smile. He then patiently allowed me to pick his brain, and I listened to all kinds of neat stories about the Jackie Robinson and playing in Brooklyn.

A person who I believed to be a former player walked around the room with a beaming smile, shaking every hand and introducing himself. I had never heard of Buck O’Neil until then.

Of course, by the time Burns’ masterpiece was finished, O’Neil had become baseball’s newest ambassador and a national treasure.

The Mets can make any Christmas tree special

As you know, I have a lot of rules. Naturally this extends to the Christmas season.

I’m a hardcore Christmas decorator, which means that I don’t believe in setting up our tree and festive displays until the weekend closest to Dec. 15. If they’re up too long, then they don’t seem special any more.

My wife feared that baseball ornaments were taking over the family tree — as if that were a bad thing — so years ago she surprised me with a small artificial evergreen to place in the baseball room and display all of the holiday tributes to the Mets and the homeland.

Some of them shall be the focus of a special Deezo Friday Five.


1) Forever Collectibles has become the main producer of player ornaments, and the company really ramped up its offerings this year.

After giving us just a Jose Reyes figure a year ago, Forever gifted us with three Mets: Johan Santana, Reyes and David Wright. These were on sale and I pounced!

If only there was a company making these kinds of things in the glorious 1970s, when we could have had Tom Seaver, Jerry Grote and Lee Mazzilli making the Christmas season special.


2) Then we have this “Team Celebration” ornament. Getting three Mets to dangle from one string is an impressive feat, but I recognize that I looks a little goofy.

The ornament has Wright, Reyes and Beltran, and I know this only because of the painted numbers and names. No actual likenesses are included.


3) I found an updated version of this cool Shea Stadium ornament that has the sweet final season logo instead of the team logo.

I discovered it online in the fall, only to have the dealer later e-mail and say he wasn’t supposed to sell it until closer to Christmas and wouldn’t be mailing it until then. And I waited and waited, with each passing day figuring that the ornament didn’t actually exist and I was being scammed, probably by a Grinchy Yankee fan who takes delight in sucking the joy from Mets fans in this most festive season.

But it arrived on Wednesday and I felt much better.

4) I’ll put just about any Mets ornament on the tree, but I finally drew the line.

What the heck is this supposed to be? It looks like the severed head of a player mounted on a ball. At least he’s happy about it.

We can’t see a number or name, so I think it’s a generic player. Kind of looks like Luis Castillo, though.

5) I do not want to see any Met produced in a Hallmark ornament for the simple reason that any player who finds himself hanging on a rack in Hallmark is immediately cursed.

Don’t believe me? Look back at the list of players depicted (poorly, but that’s another story) and you’ll find an assortment of injured, traded and allegedly juiced ballplayers.

This year, for reasons I can not comprehend, Hallmark selected Nomar Garciaparra of the Dodgers, who this year appeared in only 55 games and hit .264. Why? Because he was cursed.

Hallmark has not responded to any of the 759 e-mails I sent requesting Derek F. Jeter be selected for an ornament next year.