The years in between represented the darkest period in Mets history. Not even the first seven years of the franchise's storied existence (1962-68), in which they were known as lovable losers, comes close. At least those teams had an excuse. There was no excuse for what this fanbase had to endure from 1977 thru 1983.
It is difficult to explain to anyone who wasn't alive at the time just how depressing it was being a Mets fan during that period. They weren't just bad, they were the laughingstock of professional baseball. And what made it even more humiliating was the fact that the hated Yankees were winning World Series titles just across Flushing Bay.
After principal owner Joan Payson died in 1975, her daughter Linda de Roulette took over the day to day operations of the team and drove it right into the ground. Three times they flirted with losing a hundred games (1977, '79 & '82) and three times the baseball gods took pity on them. When the team was finally sold at the end of the '79 season, it took the new ownership group three years just to replenish the pipeline with talent, that's how bare the cupboard was.
When Whitey Herzog traded his gold-glove first baseman to the Mets in June of '83, the prevailing logic was that he was exiling him to the baseball equivalent of Siberia. Seriously, this was where ballplayers came to end their careers, not rejuvenate them. That's surely what Hernandez must've thought when he arrived at Shea Stadium.
But a funny thing happened on the way to Siberia. Far from being a graveyard, the Mets were developing some of the best, young talent in the majors. Players like Ron Darling and Darryl Strawberry were already starting to make their mark. And down in Tidewater, a young pitcher by the name of Dwight Gooden was turning heads. Hernandez liked what he saw and signed a five-year contract with the team.
The years 1984 thru 1988 were the most successful in Mets history. Two division titles and a World Series championship. The team averaged 97 wins and set franchise attendance records. For the first time since that miracle year of 1969, the Mets owned the back pages of the New York Post and the Daily News.
It was fun being a Mets fan back then. They were no longer the punch line of every late-night comic. Almost overnight, they went from being a perennial door mat to a contender. They, and not the Yankees, were the toast of the town. But none of that would've been possible if Hernandez had opted to leave after the '83 season, which was his right. His decision to stay gave this franchise something it hadn't had since Seaver was sent packing: respectability.
Hernandez just wasn't a good ball player; he was the consummate professional. He was by far the best first baseman I ever saw play the position. The way he played the game didn't just earn him gold gloves, it earned him the respect of his peers. His teammates saw in him a player who left it all on the field and they wanted to emulate him.
He had grown accustomed to winning in St. Louis and he expected this team to do the same. They came close in '84 and '85, finishing second both times to the Cubs and Cardinals respectively, before finally winning it all in '86. Had it not been for a freak gardening injury that sidelined Bobby Ojeda for the entire '87 season, they most likely would've repeated as World Series champs. And if baseball had had a wild card back then, it's entirely possible they would've made the postseason all five years, that's how good they were.
But I keep coming back to Hernandez. Yes, he had some help. The trades for Ray Knight and Gary Carter gave the Mets one of the most potent lineups in the National League. But apart from Tom Terrific, no other player who's ever worn the orange and blue has meant as much to this franchise as number 17 has. He walked the walk as well as he talked the talk.
That's why it was emotionally gratifying to see Hernandez being honored at Citifield Saturday afternoon by the organization he has been a part of for almost 40 years. It was shameful that Fred and Jeff Wilpon never retired his number. But then what else would you expect from Frick and Frack? If there was a way to screw up a sunset, you could always count on those two knuckleheads to do it. Whatever else you might think about Steve Cohen, he hasn't been shy about what his intentions are regarding this team. Retiring Keith Hernandez's number was the least he could do.
As a Mets fan, I can't thank Hernandez enough for all the double plays he started, the clutch hits he got, the example he set.
To quote the late, great Bob Hope, thanks for the memories, Keith.
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