26: Jonesing
(This is the latest installment in an ongoing series at Y2K focusing on topics raised in Matthew Silverman's "100 Things Mets Fans Should Know & Do Before They Die". Today's installment? Number 26: Jonesing.)
Why 26? That many years young.
On a scale of 1-to-10, necessity of knowing or doing before you die? 6.
Memory's a funny thing. At 26 years old, I feel my memory's in pretty good shape, but one glitch in the system is, I find periodically I'll insert myself into memories that I did not actually experience first hand.
Let me slow down; that makes me sound like a lunatic. This affliction is almost exclusively the dominion of sports memories, and it almost always comes back to the question of whether I watched a game on television, or if I was there live and in person at the ballpark.
Game 4 of the 2000 NLDS is one of those memories. I'm like 99% sure I attended that game. I'm nearly positive I was there with the Hound and B.O.A.F.O.M.G., seated in the last of the orange seats where the Field Box meets the Loge between third and home.
I was a senior in high school then, and if I remember it correctly, a faculty member from school was in one of the adjacent seats on a double date, and the two of us pretended not to see one another, because it would have just been too painful.
As you can tell, parts of that game are extremely vivid. The memories are so precise that I feel certain I was there, in the flesh.
That night was perhaps the greatest of Bobby Jones White's Mets career. "He fanned Barry Bonds twice and got him to line out to center to end the game and the series," Silverman writes (70). "Jones allowed base runners in only one inning in one of the most dominant performances in club history. It turned out to be his last win in a Mets uniform... but it couldn't have come at a better time."
The win launched the Mets into their second consecutive NLCS. I remember most of it clear as day.
But still... why isn't the memory of that final out as clear? Why don't I really remember the celebration? Are the fuzzy memories I have of those moments evidence that I wasn't really at Game 4?
Uncomfortable questions, all.
* * * * *
Bobby Jones is a Met many people remember fondly. His whole look fit perfectly with the Mets' blue collar sensibilities, and for years he was the best pitcher on a bad team. So no question, Bobby Jones is worth memorializing.
But come on. How do you justify naming a chapter "Jonesing" without so much as mentioning, one, the existence of another, concurrent Bobby Jones (Bobby Jones Black), or two, the most famous Jones ever to play at Shea, Chipper?
No disrespect to Cleon, Andruw, Bobby Jones White or Bobby Jones Black, but a chapter with the title "Jonesing" needed a shout-out to one of the great Mets nemeses of all time. Think of all the stories Silverman could have shared. His son. The comments about Mets fans putting on Yankee gear. The "Lar-ry" chants. The possibilities are endless.
And he deserves it, too. Say whatever you want about Chipper, but he's been a great villain for the Shea faithful, and villains, as much as heroes, are part of the great fabric of sports lore. Like Sip, I intend to give the man a rousing standing ovation in his final game at Sh... err, Citi Field.
All in all, this is a fine chapter in Silverman's book. It just feels like a missed opportunity. Here's hoping he makes it up in another installment.
- A.F.O.M.G.
Why 26? That many years young.
On a scale of 1-to-10, necessity of knowing or doing before you die? 6.
Memory's a funny thing. At 26 years old, I feel my memory's in pretty good shape, but one glitch in the system is, I find periodically I'll insert myself into memories that I did not actually experience first hand.
Let me slow down; that makes me sound like a lunatic. This affliction is almost exclusively the dominion of sports memories, and it almost always comes back to the question of whether I watched a game on television, or if I was there live and in person at the ballpark.
Game 4 of the 2000 NLDS is one of those memories. I'm like 99% sure I attended that game. I'm nearly positive I was there with the Hound and B.O.A.F.O.M.G., seated in the last of the orange seats where the Field Box meets the Loge between third and home.I was a senior in high school then, and if I remember it correctly, a faculty member from school was in one of the adjacent seats on a double date, and the two of us pretended not to see one another, because it would have just been too painful.
As you can tell, parts of that game are extremely vivid. The memories are so precise that I feel certain I was there, in the flesh.
That night was perhaps the greatest of Bobby Jones White's Mets career. "He fanned Barry Bonds twice and got him to line out to center to end the game and the series," Silverman writes (70). "Jones allowed base runners in only one inning in one of the most dominant performances in club history. It turned out to be his last win in a Mets uniform... but it couldn't have come at a better time."
The win launched the Mets into their second consecutive NLCS. I remember most of it clear as day.
But still... why isn't the memory of that final out as clear? Why don't I really remember the celebration? Are the fuzzy memories I have of those moments evidence that I wasn't really at Game 4?
Uncomfortable questions, all.
* * * * *
Bobby Jones is a Met many people remember fondly. His whole look fit perfectly with the Mets' blue collar sensibilities, and for years he was the best pitcher on a bad team. So no question, Bobby Jones is worth memorializing.
But come on. How do you justify naming a chapter "Jonesing" without so much as mentioning, one, the existence of another, concurrent Bobby Jones (Bobby Jones Black), or two, the most famous Jones ever to play at Shea, Chipper?
No disrespect to Cleon, Andruw, Bobby Jones White or Bobby Jones Black, but a chapter with the title "Jonesing" needed a shout-out to one of the great Mets nemeses of all time. Think of all the stories Silverman could have shared. His son. The comments about Mets fans putting on Yankee gear. The "Lar-ry" chants. The possibilities are endless.And he deserves it, too. Say whatever you want about Chipper, but he's been a great villain for the Shea faithful, and villains, as much as heroes, are part of the great fabric of sports lore. Like Sip, I intend to give the man a rousing standing ovation in his final game at Sh... err, Citi Field.
All in all, this is a fine chapter in Silverman's book. It just feels like a missed opportunity. Here's hoping he makes it up in another installment.
- A.F.O.M.G.
posted by A Friend of Mr. Glass' at 10:05 AM
2 Comments:
What made bobby jones white so effective? I ask because I was not able to see many games back then but do recall him being effective as fuk.
I miss guys like that..guys that NEVER electrify you but give you their all more often than not (guys like Rick Reed too) seems like the Mets do not get guys like that ... I kinda want to see randy wolf and redding make it to the rotation because of that...
Can't really help you on that one -- I spent a lot of my youth watching Bobby Jones White, but I can't really recall what made him effective. I don't remember him having a single great pitch -- no dominating fastball, no devastating curve. Maybe someone else can fill in the blank?
But I definitely hear you on the longing for a Rick Reed / Bobby Jones type. It's guys like them that round out a rotation; for years now we've had like 2-4 reliable starters, and a revolving door / black hole at No. 5. Why are we incapable of addressing that? Every offseason Omar says it's all about the pitching, but every season we have the same problem. It's so tiresome.
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