Faith and Fear in Flushing

David Peterson was bad and then OK and then bad again and then had a chance to give the karmic wheel another shove: Mets down two in the fourth, bases loaded,

Called strike three. Seven earned runs in a third-of-an-inning. A long fly ball that dies at the track to seal a stadium’s fate. A throw home from the first baseman that sails over the catcher’s head. A scrub pops a three-run homer. An ear shines.

Some events that have signaled the end of a season or postseason fester deeply in the Metsian soul and don’t require much e...

“Trade or release everybody!” is an understandable if impulsive answer to the question, “What the hell should the Mets do next, now that they’ve been swept at home by the Colorado Rockies, having shown no more than scant traces of life in losing their Sunday doubleheader?”

Within reason, it may also be the correct one.

The Mets designated

I went to my first Mets game of the 2026 season Friday night, and honestly I should have known that was a bad idea.

“No April baseball” is a sensible rule, one I chose to ignore. I layered — boy howdy were there a lot of layers — and it was still cold. Feet like blocks of ice cold. Cheering makes no sound because you have gloves on cold. Don’t wan...

“It’s :25 after the hour, time for our daily cooking segment. Chef, what do we have on the menu today?”
“Today we’re going to make something I like to call Metropolitan Stew.”
“Metropolitan Stew? Ooh, sounds intriguing!”
“This is the kind of dish you can just toss together on a nippy April night and, if we know what we are doing, it will sustain you for nine innin...