The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets: Joan Whitney Payson

All things considered, I've had a pretty fortunate run as a Mets fan.  Shortly after signing up to bleed Met blue at a very young age, they won a championship shortly into my run as a fan and were a very celebrated team.  An organization comprised of very colorful individuals (Mex, Kid, to name a few) and budding superstars (Straw, Doc, to complement the veterans) helped cement me as a Mets fan for life.

Thanks, Dad.

Being a student of history and literature as well, I was always fascinated by the Mets' overall past and how they came to be.  Little did I know, at age 10, that 1962 was just a mere 25 seasons prior in 1986.  As someone who celebrated her Tom Seaver birthday recently, 25 years is a drop in the hat.

Then by watching the video An Amazin' Era, I realized how the Mets were born.  It was hard for me to imagine at age 10, and even later in my 20s and 30s by reading books like Bums, Amazin', and Boys of Summer, what it might be like to see one of my teams (or my teams' rivals) leave town and go straight cross the country.  Because without the loss of the Brooklyn Dodgers (now of Los Angeles) and New York (baseball) Giants (now San Francisco), the Mets may not exist.  I'm sure I'd still love baseball.  But the idea of no Mets is disconcerting to me, despite how much they like to mess with my feelings.                                                                                                                                             

In the 2007 HBO documentary, The Ghosts of Flatbush, an older fan who was quite young when the Dodgers left town in 1957 said that "Los Angeles may have been Siberia, it was so far away."  So from 1958 through 1961, there was no New York National League baseball team.  And according to many amateur baseball historians (like my father, who I have to blame for being in this mess), New York always was and always will be a National League city.  Despite what those pinstripe dummies in the Bronx try to tell you.

Meanwhile, in that same documentary, not to mention countless books written about those bums of Kings County, a few lines were devoted to "that other" National League ball club that shared success in the same municipality but rival boroughs, and their fans shared a heated passion that was reminiscent of the Hatfields and the McCoys.  You'd never know, given the ink and video devoted to reminding us about the Brooklyn Dodgers, that the other team that inspired the Mets' color orange played at the Polo Grounds, the Mets' first home.  The other team that won a championship as late as 1954 in New York.  And had storied players like Willie Mays, who made the infamous "Catch" in that same World Series. (And Mays is why I believe I'd have been a Polo Grounds inhabitant).

And the other team, that according to the many books written on the era, made majority owner Horace Stoneham out to be a "patsy" who was cajoled by Dodger owner Walter O'Malley to provide a natural rival to the Dodgers on the west coast, who had one proverbial foot out the door to L.A. 

Stoneham's team was his primary source of income.  It was an eat or be eaten situation for him to move the team to make it more profitable.  While he originally thought "midwest," to go further west wasn't much of a stretch for him.

Yet, a Giants' minority shareholder was very vocal about the team not leaving town.  In fact, hers was the only dissenting vote to move the team to San Francisco.  Several years later, that voter got her own wish: to bring National League baseball back to the Big Apple in a big way.

(Photo courtesy of National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum)

Joan Whitney Payson was not only a philanthropist, coming from a very well-known and well-to-do socialite family, but she was a huge baseball fan as well.  She was a known art collector, but she mostly wanted to collect ticket stubs to baseball games.  (I also believe her to be my spirit animal).

Yet for how revered Mrs. Payson (as she is still referred to this day by several prominent former Mets like Tom Seaver and Ed Kranepool) was and is in Mets lore, she presided over some of the most disastrous Mets teams.  While no one would ever question her Mets love and baseball fandom, her baseball legacy was tarnished by her family who inherited the team after she passed.  A family who didn't give a hoot about baseball or running a team, and allowed the team franchise player to be traded on their watch, a move that ultimately led to several years of hardship in Queens.

We know how the current front office ownership is viewed by most fans today.  But would Mrs. Payson been given the benefit of the doubt had she owned the team today?  I mean, would Joan Payson have been essentially "Frederica" Wilpon, someone who loved baseball so much that they just wanted to own a team, and thought fans were a means to an end to obtain that goal?

That may be a bit of an unfair judgment, but let's take a look at how the team operated in the Payson years.  (This also accounts for the de Roulet ownership after her death, since they inherited the team.)

It goes without saying that in 1962, the Mets were historically bad.  Monumentally bad.  Horrific.  Yet, fans were so hard up for National League baseball in the Big Apple, that they went and root root rooted for the Metsies (and went home not too happy 120 times in '62, but that's okay).  Though by 1968, they didn't have another 100+ loss season.  So that's a plus, I guess. 

Year	W	L	W-L%	Finish
1962	40	120	0.250	10th of 10
1963	51	111	0.315	10th of 10
1964	53	109	0.327	10th of 10
1965	50	112	0.309	10th of 10
1966	66	95	0.410	9th of 10
1967	61	101	0.377	10th of 10
1968	73	89	0.451	9th of 10
1969	100	62	0.617	1st of 6
1970	83	79	0.512	3rd of 6
1971	83	79	0.512	3rd of 6
1972	83	73	0.532	3rd of 6
1973	82	79	0.509	1st of 6
1974	71	91	0.438	5th of 6
1975	82	80	0.506	3rd of 6
1976	86	76	0.531	3rd of 6
1977	64	98	0.395	6th of 6
1978	66	96	0.407	6th of 6
1979	63	99	0.389	6th of 6

And yet the two standout seasons, 1969 and 1973, almost happened by accident.  The Mets were hardly world beaters during Payson's ownership, but they did have success that ultimately made the struggles worth it.  Some high highs, and low lows, if you will. 

On the back end of the operation, though, Payson seemed to be a shrewd investor, but establishing her own level of cronyism that impacted the team well after her death.  According to Amazin' by Peter Golenbock, Mrs. Payson was approached to be an investor in the "Continental League" team that would be based in New York.  Initially, she declined, until she was given a piece of information that this was a ploy to get the National League to expand in New York.  She later bought out the original minority shareholders, ultimately acquiring 80% of the team (A percentage, related in her obituary, that she wasn't even sure of, and responded with child-like glee, "Oh I think I own somewhere around 80-85%!").

The remaining 20% was held by a relative of the political Bush family, Herbert Walker...and M. Donald Grant, her personal stockbroker.

Oh.

Yet, from a business standpoint, the Mets probably would not exist had she not been eager to bring baseball back to New York.  But she did not seem interested in fielding a winning team, or at the very least, not willing to invest much in the team.  Also according to Amazin', when Branch Rickey was approached to run the new team, he insisted on a $5 million budget.  (In today's dollars, it would be in the neighborhood of $41 million...which is chump change for today's baseball, but back then probably astronomical, pre-free agency era).

They declined Rickey's demands...and named Grant team president.  On the general manager front, they hired George Weiss to run the team who had a reputation of being, shall we say, "frugal."  Weiss was tasked with finding "retreads" (i.e. ex-Giants and Dodgers who were beloved by the fans who stayed behind).  These players were also tasked to bring fans back to the Polo Grounds.  Basically, every Mets game early on was a Old Timers' Day parade featuring old Dodgers or Giants.

Until 1967, though, when a young upstart pitcher named Tom Seaver joined the team, the Mets had a nondescript team fielding some flashy but mostly nondescript players. 

If you think about it, the team got lucky when they got Seaver.  THEY WON A FREAKING LOTTERY DRAWING, FOR PETE'S SAKE.

Sporting News/Getty Images)

Yet the drafting of Seaver, not to mention the breakout of 1968 rookie pitcher Jerry Koosman (who finished in second to future Hall of Famer Johnny Bench in the ROY awards that year...I just like throwing that out there), the addition of former Brooklyn Dodger great Gil Hodges as team manager, plus some trades that got the likes of Tommie Agee, along with Mets old schoolers Cleon Jones and Ed Kranepool got them to a 100-win season in 1969...AND a World Championship. 

Mrs. Payson, from most reports though, preferred to stay in the shadows, and was more than happy to just funnel the funds and be a matronly figure for her boys.  Yet, by anointing Grant (not a baseball guy) with decision-making powers, well, she may have had more of a Nelson Doubleday attitude towards being an owner (minus getting the correct baseball guys making the baseball decisions).  Grant himself certainly operated from a Wilpon very-hands-on perspective.

While the Mets finished in third place in each of the 1970-72 seasons, the only time Mrs. Payson "intervened," for lack of a better term, in baseball operations was to bring Willie Mays back to New York.  As legend had it, Mays was her favorite former New York Giant, and wanted him so badly on the Mets that, as Golenbock reported in Amazin', she offered to buy him from the San Francisco team for $1 million years before the actual trade went down.  Horace Stoneham ultimately acquiesced in 1972, and she brought Mays back to the city where he started defining his legacy as one of the all-time greats.

1973 was Mays' last year in baseball, but he managed to be part of a wild run for the "Ya Gotta Believe" team that won the NL East, went on to win the National League Championship, but lost to the Oakland A's in a seven-game World Series. 

By 1975, the Mets had finished two seasons, finishing in fifth and third place, respectively, after their YGB run.  Yet, the biggest loss of all that was a catalyst for sending the team into relative obscurity in the late '70s was the loss of Mrs. Payson herself, who passed away in September of '75.   Unfortunately, her love for baseball wasn't inherited by her family, who were now in charge of the Mets.  The de Roulet family entrusted M. Donald Grant with more baseball powers, preferring to follow his lead.

Generally, the landscape of baseball as we know it today also changed after the 1975 season with the advent of free agency.  With Mrs. Payson gone, and her family knowing little about baseball and caring less, M. Donald Grant had more reign over the team's payroll than ever before.

Under her family's watch, the team lost Tom Seaver in the "Steve Henderson" trade (Joe Torre once referred to the deal as such, and it always made me laugh).  Grant got rid of basically anyone who contributed to the Mets' successful years, because Grant had unquestioned power, and therefore, wanted to keep the payroll as low as possible.  The new baseball team owners didn't know squat about running a baseball team.

I have to wonder, actually, if that Midnight Massacre trade that has defined so many Mets fans' identities, would have taken place if Mrs. Payson was still alive. Here's my genuine curiosity: if free agency existed on the level when Mrs. Payson was still alive, would she have encouraged Grant to write out the blank checks?  I have to believe she would have personally intervened with Seaver and not allowed that infamous hatchet job by Dick Young to happen.  Even she knew how important Tom Terrific was to the Mets' name.

Evidence points to the fact that while the team loved her and thought she was a good owner who didn't meddle, it's possible that she, too, might have listened to Grant's suggestions to keep payroll low.  The alternative is that she would have done what she needed to do to keep her players happy - namely Seaver, Koosman and Dave Kingman - and would've made sure they were paid to market standards.

Joan Whitney Payson, original Mets owner.  Source: Pinterest

There aren't many quotes attributed to Joan Payson, mostly because she let her front office do the talking for her.  Her talking was to sign the checks and go to the games.  Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.

But with the passing of Mrs. Payson, and the Mets being sold to the Doubleday/Wilpon consortium in 1980, it was the end of an era.  That era being a throwback to how baseball used to operate under a "gentlemen's agreement" where owners called the shots and were nice enough to give jobs to scrappy baseball players.

But one woman broke that glass ceiling, and it's a shame we never knew how the team would have operated had she not put cronies at the top who didn't keep her best interests and wishes for a successful team at heart. 

So to recap, Joan Whitney Payson was a wealthy woman who loved baseball so much, she owned her own team.  Preferring to stay in the background, she let people loyal to her do the baseball work for her.  Yet, under her ownership, the team had two very successful years culminating in a World Championship and a National League Championship.  For those "highest of highs," the team suffered some abominable lows, like their 120-loss inaugural season to the trade of the team's "Franchise player" after her death, whose loss took years to overcome, even after the team was sold by the surviving de Roulet family.

Since 1962, the Mets have had four major ownership changes: Mrs. Payson, the de Roulets (her surviving family), Nelson Doubleday/Fred Wilpon, then the Wilpon/Katz Sterling Equities consortium.  There's been some overlap, yet no owner was quite as beloved as Mrs. Payson, who was the old grande dame of the organization and of baseball.

As Terence Mann spoke in Field of Dreams, the one constant through the years has been baseball.  It has been erased, rebuilt and erased again.  Mrs. Payson's ownership brings us back to a simpler time of baseball, and clearly could adapt to changes that sadly the people she put in the charge were not able to do.  There are signs of Mrs. Payson around Citi Field today, especially in the Mets Hall of Fame, where she was enshrined as a member in 1981.

Yes, under Joan Payson, the Mets had the thrill of some victorious years, but there was plenty of agony to go around.


Editor's note:  In case you hadn't noticed, this piece was written by Taryn "The Coop" Cooper", because she knows a thing or two about being a woman who loves baseball.


Note: The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets is a thirteen-part weekly series spotlighting those Mets players and personnel who experienced the best of times and the worst of times with the team.  For previous installments, please click on the names below:

January 2, 2017: Tom Seaver
January 9, 2017: Mike Piazza
January 16, 2017: Wally Backman
January 23, 2017: Daniel Murphy
January 30, 2017: Frank Cashen
February 6, 2017: Ed Kranepool
February 13, 2017: Doug Sisk

 

The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets: Ed Kranepool

In the film "Forrest Gump", the titular character ran across the country from one ocean to the other just because he "felt like runnin' ".  His travels took him across flat land, up the highest mountain, back down again, and even through a pile of dog ... ahem ... poo.  After spending three years, two months, 14 days and 16 hours on the roads of America, Gump decided to stop running because he was tired.  There was no fanfare as his run came to an end.  He just quit and went home.

Gump's spirited jog commenced around October 1, 1979, as a news broadcast that was airing at the beginning of his cross-country trek was reporting that President Jimmy Carter had collapsed that day while attempting to complete a six-mile race.  Just one day before Gump began his long run in the fictional town of Greenbow, AL, another long run was coming to an end in the very real city of St. Louis, MO.  And when this run of 18 seasons with a single major league franchise came to an end, it also had no fanfare.  It just marked the quiet close to the career of the last man who played for the original Mets.

He was steady.  He was Eddie.  But as a teenager, was he ready?  (Bettmann/Getty Images)

Edward Emil Kranepool was barely out of his James Monroe High School cap and gown when the Mets signed the amateur free agent to an $85,000 contract in June 1962.  The new expansion team was enamored with the young man who broke Hall of Famer Hank Greenberg's home run records at Monroe, promoting him to the big club before its inaugural season was over.  At age 17 and just three months out of high school, the Bronx-bred Kranepool collected his first major league hit at Manhattan's Polo Grounds - an opposite field double off Cubs reliever Don Elston.

In 1963, Kranepool split his time between AAA-Buffalo and the Mets, producing an impressive .310 batting average and .507 slugging percentage in 53 minor league games, while being overmatched at the major league level, batting .209 and slugging .289 in 86 games.  The following year, his last as a teenager and his first at the newly opened Shea Stadium, Kranepool became just the 13th player to appear in 100 or more games in a single season prior to blowing out 20 candles on his birthday cake.  The first baseman improved greatly during that 1964 campaign, batting .257 and finishing among the team leaders in hits (108), doubles (19) and home runs (10).

Although Kranepool was blossoming into an offensive talent, the Mets continued to bring up the rear in the National League standings.   After losing 111 and 109 games in 1963 and 1964, respectively, the Mets found a way to regress in 1965, finishing the year with a 50-112 record.  The team could actually have been a lot worse had it not been for Kranepool's performance in the first half of the season.

Through games of June 3, Kranepool batted a hefty .344 and produced a .922 OPS, while racking up 21 extra-base hits and 29 RBI.  As a result, Kranepool was chosen to be the Mets' sole representative in the All-Star Game, his first and only selection for the Midsummer Classic.  Kranepool didn't get to play in the game, as N.L. manager Gene Mauch chose to play Ernie Banks at first base during the entire contest, but the Mets' first baseman did become the youngest player at that position to become an All-Star - a distinction Kranepool still holds to this day.

Kranepool ran out of gas in the second half of the 1965 campaign, as evidenced by his .216/.268/.292 post-All-Star Game slash line.  He also had to deal with the unexpected retirement of the only manager he had ever played for in the big leagues, Casey Stengel, who broke his hip in a fall in late July and called it a career a month later.

When the Mets signed Kranepool in 1962, they were hoping to get the player who broke all of Hank Greenberg's high school records.  Instead, they got a mediocre player who seemed to be living out a real life "Groundhog Day" situation, doomed to repeat the same campaign year after year.  From 1964 to 1967, an average season for Steady Eddie saw him put up a .258/.312/.383 slash line with 19 doubles, 12 homers and 52 RBI.  Kranepool never hit below .253 or above .269 in any of those four seasons.  He also hit exactly ten home runs in three of the four years (he flexed his muscles in 1966 when he bashed a career-high 16 homers) and produced between 45 and 57 RBI during the quadrennium.  Kranepool was also playing almost every day, averaging over 500 plate appearances per season.  That all changed in 1968, when a new manager came aboard and ended up extending Kranepool's career by playing him less.

Prior to 1968, the Mets had lost 100 or more games in five of their first six seasons.  They had also established a permanent residency in the National League cellar, coming out for a sniff of ninth place just once in 1966.  But after six seasons of playing like a first-year expansion team, the arrival of skipper Gil Hodges shifted the mindset of the team.

"Spring Training, Gil Hodges wanted you to lead by example," Kranepool said about his former teammate and current manager.  "He built the ballclub around leadership."

Kranepool made his debut as a defensive replacement for Hodges, then played under him.  (Herb Scharfman/Getty Images)

The Mets won 73 games in '68, fueled by the pitching of rookie Jerry Koosman and sophomore starter Tom Seaver.  Unfortunately, Kranepool had his worst season since 1963, batting .231 with only three homers and 20 RBI despite getting the majority of the starts at first base.  Kranepool continued to get the bulk of the playing time at first base during the early part of the 1969 season as the team got off to an 18-23 start.  But after a club-record 11-game winning streak in late May and early June suddenly thrust the Mets into second place, the team felt the need to upgrade its offense, especially after being held to three runs or fewer in 34 of their first 56 games.  The team addressed the problem by trading for veteran slugger Donn Clendenon.

At the time of the trade, Kranepool was back to his typical pre-1968 self, which meant he was batting .256 with six homers and 26 RBI while getting most of the starts at his customary position. The lefty-swinging Kranepool and the right-handed batting Clendenon were then platooned at first base by Hodges, which maximized power production at the corner infield spot.

From June 15 until season's end, Kranepool and Clendenon combined to produce 17 homers and 60 RBI in 441 plate appearances.  Kranepool also produced some huge hits along the way.  His walk-off RBI single off future Hall of Famer Ferguson Jenkins on July 8 capped a three-run, ninth-inning rally and gave the Mets a thrilling victory over the rival Cubs, just one day before Seaver shut down Chicago with his Imperfect Game.  Five days after his hit against Jenkins, Kranepool delivered another game-winner, this time a tie-breaking RBI double in the eighth inning against Montreal that gave New York a 4-3 victory.  The Expos were once again victimized by Kranepool on September 18, when the veteran homered and drove in both runs in the Mets' 2-0 victory.  Six days later, the Mets wrapped up their first N.L. East division title.

"We kept applying the pressure, and the Cubs knew they were in a pennant race," Kranepool said.  "Every time we played a big series, we won it.  We beat the Cubs head to head in every series after that.  We got some breaks - but look, a winning team makes its breaks."

Buoyed by their late-season push for the playoffs, the Mets miraculously won it all in 1969, sweeping the Atlanta Braves in the inaugural National League Championship Series and needing just five games to upset the heavily favored Baltimore Orioles in the World Series.  Kranepool started four of the Mets' eight postseason games, collecting a hit in each contest.  In the Mets' first-ever playoff game, Kranepool scored two runs and delivered the fielder's choice that plated the go-ahead run in the eighth inning.  The following day, Kranepool got the Mets on the board first with an RBI single in the first inning.  Kranepool played in just one World Series game because the Orioles started left-handed pitchers in four of the five games, but he made the most out of his sole appearance, clubbing a home run in the Mets' Game Three victory - the first Fall Classic game ever played in Flushing.

The look of a champion.  (Focus On Sport)

Although he was only 24 at the time, Kranepool had become the longest tenured Met.  He was also a world champion and one of the leaders in the tight-knit clubhouse.  Third baseman Ed Charles, the poet laureate of the Mets, said it best when he discussed the team's camaraderie during their championship season.

"We felt like a family," Charles said.  "It started with Mrs. Joan Payson, the owner, who had a habit of making people feel at home.  It included the leadership of Gil Hodges.  And there was the chemistry of the team.  We were all close.  I went to barbecues at the home of Kranepool, (Art) Shamsky, (Ron) Swoboda.  We went out together on the road.  I never saw a team with so much closeness."

As close as Kranepool was to his teammates in 1969, he ended up playing far away from them for most of the 1970 campaign.  Kranepool batted just .222 in April, then went 0-for-May, failing to collect a hit in the 12 games he appeared in during the month.  After not collecting a hit in five June games, which dropped his batting average to a pitcher-like .118, Kranepool was unceremoniously demoted to AAA-Tidewater, spending the next two months there trying to regain his hitting stroke.  Kranepool batted .310 in 47 games with the Tides and was called back up to the Mets in mid-August, where he was used exclusively as a pinch-hitter.  His final major league stats for the year: .170 batting average, eight hits, no homers and three RBI in 43 games.

While Kranepool was in the minors in 1970, his bat wasn't missed in the starting lineup, as Clendenon batted .288 with 22 homers and a then-franchise record 97 RBI.  But Clendenon saw a significant drop-off across the board in 1971 (.247, 11 HR, 37 RBI in 88 games), which allowed Kranepool to re-establish himself in the big leagues.  Kranepool's renaissance season ended with a .280 batting average, 14 homers and a career-high 58 RBI.

At the conclusion of the 1971 campaign, Clendenon was released by the Mets, allowing Kranepool to take over first base on a full-time basis for the first time since before Clendenon's arrival.  But the sudden death of Gil Hodges prior to the start of the 1972 season changed the direction of the club, with Yogi Berra tabbed to replace the beloved Hodges.  The passing of his manager and mentor also affected the play of Kranepool, who batted just .204 with four homers and 14 RBI through the team's first 87 games.  Kranepool eventually recovered after a three-month mourning period, batting .326 with 15 extra-base hits and 20 RBI over his final 195 plate appearances.

As good as Kranepool was during the second half of the 1972 season, he was surely going to lose playing time the following season to John Milner, who finished third in the National League Rookie of the Year vote in '72.  Milner played mostly in left field during his stellar rookie season, but was more suited to play first base.  In 1973, Milner and Kranepool switched positions, with Milner getting most of his starts at first base and Kranepool splitting time between first and left.  Kranepool did not respond well to the switch, batting .239 in 1973 with just one homer and 35 RBI.  He was also mostly a spectator during the Mets' run to their second division title in five seasons, appearing solely as a pinch-hitter during the last two weeks of the regular season.  But even in limited action, Kranepool was instrumental in getting the Mets back to the World Series.

The Mets played a dozen games during the 1973 postseason; Kranepool started one of them.  That lone start occurred in the first do-or-die playoff game in franchise history and only happened because right fielder Rusty Staub injured his shoulder in Game Four of the NLCS while making a spectacular catch against the outfield wall.  With the Mets and Cincinnati Reds having split the first four games of the best-of-five series, Kranepool got the nod from Berra to start Game Five in left field, with Cleon Jones moving to right in lieu of the injured Staub.  Kranepool rewarded his manager immediately, driving in the first two runs of the game with a bases-loaded single.  The Mets never trailed in the game and advanced to their second World Series, which they lost in seven games to the Oakland A's with the underhand-throwing Staub returning to right field and the healthy Kranepool returning to the bench.

The bench became a familiar place for Kranepool for the rest of his career.  From 1974 to 1978, Kranepool started just 317 games over the five-year period, making more than 82 starts in just one of the five seasons (1976).  Although he performed well as a part-time starter, batting .286 with a .399 slugging percentage, Kranepool was lethal as a pinch-hitter.  When he came off the bench from 1974 to 1978, Kranepool batted an eye-popping .396 (57-for-144) and slugged .590.  Included in the torrid stretch was a .486 batting average as a pinch-hitter in 1974 - the first of four consecutive seasons in which Kranepool batted .400 or higher as a sub - and a .300 pinch-hitting average in 1978, which doesn't seem as impressive until you consider that he hit .065 (2-for-31) during the season when he batted in other roles.

In the mid-to-late '70s, Kranepool was the team's top pinch-hitter and top mustache-grower.  (Michael Zagaris/Getty Images)

By the time 1979 rolled around, the team was in shambles.  Gone were Seaver and Koosman, with The Franchise being traded to Cincinnati as part of the Midnight Massacre in 1977 and Kooz being dealt to the Minnesota Twins following the 1978 campaign.  Not a single player from the '73 pennant-winning team remained at the start of the 1979 season.  Except for Kranepool.  And his days as a Met were also about to come to an end.

Following the death of team owner Joan Payson in 1975, control of the club went to her husband, Charles, and daughter, Lorinda de Roulet, neither of whom shared the same passion for the game that Mrs. Payson had.  Baseball operations fell into the hands of team chairman M. Donald Grant, who had no intention of spending much money to better the team.  Instead, he pared the roster of veteran players who were asking to be paid like their counterparts in other cities.  The camaraderie that existed between the players when the Mets won the World Series in 1969 was completely gone a decade later, and so was Grant, who was removed as the team's chairman by the club's board of directors prior to the 1979 season.

Kranepool, who was never one to mince his words, had some harsh feelings about the questionable transactions made by the team during the ill-fated M. Donald Grant era.

"Look at some of the deals they made," Kranepool said.  "They were horrendous.  They unloaded everybody and didn't make a good deal."

And although most of the negativity surrounding the team following the death of Payson fell on Grant, Kranepool always dished out more vitriol towards general manager Joe McDonald.

"I didn't have a good relationship with Joe McDonald," Kranepool said matter-of-factly.  "I didn't respect him.  I didn't like him; he didn't know anything about baseball.  There were termites who ate away at the organization, and he was part of the termites.  Donald Grant got blamed for it, but Joe McDonald was the one who made the trades."

Because of his testy relationship with McDonald, Kranepool knew that when his contract expired at the end of the 1979 season, he would no longer be a Met, regardless of how he performed.  In what would be the final year of his long career, Kranepool batted .232 and managed just two homers and 17 RBI in 174 plate appearances.  To add insult to injury, the Mets closed out their season at Shea Stadium on September 23 by honoring Lou Brock of the Cardinals, who set a major league record when he stole the 938th base of his career in his final appearance at Shea.  Kranepool, the only man to play for the Mets in each of the franchise's first 18 seasons, didn't even get to play in the game and received no ovation from the home crowd.

Following the season, Kranepool was not tendered a contract and became a free agent.  Although he was only 34 at the conclusion of the 1979 campaign, Kranepool never played another game in the majors.  He finished his career as the Mets' all-time leader in nearly offensive category, even though a good chunk of his career was spent riding the pine.

Ed Kranepool wasn't just a hometown kid living out his dream on the baseball diamond.  He was also a stockbroker and a restaurateur.   He appeared in commercials, movies and TV shows, doing everything from plugging shaving cream to being accused of stealing Chico Escuela's soap in a classic Saturday Night Live sketch.  And on multiple occasions, he used his business savvy to try to purchase the team he once played for.

Krane.  (Paul Hawthorne/Getty Images)

Following the 1979 campaign, the newly-retired Kranepool joined forces with a small group of investors in a failed attempt to buy the Mets from the Payson/de Roulet family.  The Mets were eventually sold to the team of publisher Nelson Doubleday and real estate investor Fred Wilpon.  Three decades later, when Wilpon encountered financial difficulties due to his connections with Ponzi scheme swindler Bernard Madoff, he attempted to sell a small percentage of the team to increase his cash flow.  Once again, Kranepool stepped up to the plate, this time with a group of investors that included Martin Luther King III, but no purchase was ever made.

When Doubleday and Wilpon bought the Mets in 1980, Kranepool officially ended his career in baseball.  His retirement as a player ensured that he couldn't affect the Mets on the field, and his inability to purchase a part of the team meant that he couldn't have a say off it.  But despite his numerous failures - not being able to buy a part of the team, not developing into a perennial All-Star and not even being an everyday player for the majority of his career - Kranepool remains beloved by Mets fans to this day.

His career began as a 17-year-old when the expansion Mets called the Polo Grounds home.  He developed into a serviceable player as the team moved into their new home in Queens.  He owned a World Series ring before he turned 25.  He thrived as a pinch-hitter during the latter part of his career.  And he was inducted into the Mets Hall of Fame after his playing days were over.

Forrest Gump got to experience and influence many key moments in American history just by being there.  Ed Kranepool's longevity did the same for him, as he witnessed and participated in many of the Mets' seminal moments.  Kranepool was there for the highs of two pennants and one World Series championship.  He was also present for the decline and dismantling of a once-proud team.  And when his run as the longest tenured Met was done, the native New Yorker just went home.

Kranepool will always have a home when it comes to the Mets.



Note: The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets is a thirteen-part weekly series spotlighting those Mets players and personnel who experienced the best of times and the worst of times with the team.  For previous installments, please click on the names below:

January 2, 2017: Tom Seaver
January 9, 2017: Mike Piazza
January 16, 2017: Wally Backman
January 23, 2017: Daniel Murphy
January 30, 2017: Frank Cashen

The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets: Tom Seaver

The Franchise.  Say those two words to any Mets fan and they'll know exactly who you're referring to.  To get that moniker, a player needs to have seen it all.  He needs to have experienced the highs that go with being the best, both as an individual and as part of a team.  But he also should know what it's like to fail and come just short of achieving his and the team's goals.

During the beginning of his career, the Mets' franchise player experienced a last place finish, followed by a quick rise to the top of the baseball world.  Individual awards would follow, as would the team's fall to mediocrity.  The Mets eventually shocked the baseball world again, only to be the laughingstocks of the league just a few years later.  And through it all, "The Franchise" kept doing what he did best until his best wasn't good enough for the franchise.

Just as the Mets eventually came back from their darkest days, so did "The Franchise", who returned to the team just as it was about to rise from the ashes that had been smoldering for seven long seasons.  And once again, a lower-case franchise blunder allowed the upper-case Franchise to walk away before a last ditch effort to have him end his wonderful career wearing blue and orange came to a crashing halt.

After so many victorious thrills and agonizing defeats, "The Franchise" called it a career after two decades in the game.  But what a career it was.

Call him "The Franchise", "Tom Terrific" or "The Greatest Player in Mets History".  (Getty Images)

George Thomas Seaver became a Met by accident.  Originally drafted by the Dodgers in the tenth round of the 1965 June Amateur Draft, Seaver balked at a $2,000 offer by Los Angeles, as he was looking for a hefty $50,000 sum.  When then-scout Tom Lasorda could only offer $3,000, Seaver walked away from his first professional contract, choosing to stay at the University of Southern California.

Seven months later, the Atlanta Braves selected Seaver in the secondary phase of the January draft and Seaver signed with the team, earning a $40,000 bonus.  But that contract was voided by Commissioner William Eckert because USC had played an exhibition game that the Braves did not know about prior to signing Seaver.  Baseball rules prohibited the signing of college players once their teams had played a game, even if that game didn't count in the standings.  In addition, once Seaver signed the now-voided contract with the Braves, he became ineligible to return to the USC baseball team, putting him in baseball limbo and making him a free agent.  As a result, a special lottery was held to determine which team had the right to sign the former Trojan pitcher.  Surprisingly, only three teams - the Indians, Phillies and Mets - entered the lottery for Seaver's services.  Defying not-so-overwhelming one-in-three odds, the Mets won the lottery, changing their franchise's fortunes forever.

Seaver spent his first season in professional ball at the Triple A level in Jacksonville.  That was his only year in the minors, as he posted a 12-12 record with the Suns, to go with ten complete games, four shutouts and 188 strikeouts in 32 starts.  During that same 1966 campaign, the Mets lost fewer than 100 games for the first time, finally climbing out of the National League basement.  Hope seemed to be on the horizon for New York and that hope arrived a season later, when Seaver was promoted to the big leagues.

The Mets regressed somewhat in 1967, going 61-101 and once again finishing in last place in the ten-team Senior Circuit, but Seaver proved that the Mets had done right in participating in the lottery for his services.  The 22-year-old neophyte set franchise records for wins (16), complete games (18) and strikeouts (170) and was the first starter in club history to post an ERA under 3.00 (Seaver finished the year with a stellar 2.76 ERA), becoming the ace of the staff in his rookie season - one that culminated with the National League Rookie of the Year award.

The 1968 season brought two new faces to the team that would help put an end to the 100-loss campaigns in Flushing - manager Gil Hodges and lefty starter Jerry Koosman.  As manager of the Washington Senators, Hodges ended the club's perennial rendezvous with triple-digit losses and the American League cellar and turned them into a middle-of-the-pack team, as Washington finished in sixth place in the ten-team American League in 1967.  Hodges then returned to his New York roots via a rare player-for-manager trade, as the Mets sent pitcher Bill Denehy and his one major league victory, along with $100,000 in cash to Washington in exchange for Hodges.  The deal became one of the best in Mets history, as Hodges ended up winning more championships as a manager (one) than Denehy won games as a pitcher (zero) after the two men switched uniforms.

Meanwhile, Jerry Koosman, who made his major league debut just one day after Seaver made his in 1967, but couldn't pitch well enough to stay at the big league level, flourished when given a second chance in 1968.  Retaining his rookie status in '68, Koosman surpassed Seaver's stellar debut campaign, winning 19 games, posting a 2.08 ERA and striking out 178 batters.  Seaver was also spectacular in 1968, going 16-12 with a 2.20 ERA and 205 strikeouts, becoming the first Met to reach the 200-K mark.  It would become a staple of Seaver's career.

The Mets finished 73-89 in 1968, prompting Hodges to proclaim that the team would win 85 games in 1969.  He based his prediction on the fact that the team lost 37 games the previous season by a single run.  "If you win half of those," Hodges said, "you are a contending ball club."

Defying the odds, the team did make it to the lofty 85-win plateau, reaching the prophetic skipper's total with three weeks left in the regular season, helped in part by the team's 41-23 record in one-run games.  They then proceeded to win 15 more contests, winning the division title to advance to the inaugural National League Championship Series against the Atlanta Braves - the team that tried in vain to sign Seaver just three years earlier.  Seaver was a huge part of the Mets' success in 1969, winning 25 games - a franchise record that still stands to this day - and nearly became the first Met to toss a no-hitter.  In fact, Seaver retired the first 25 Chicago Cubs batters he faced on July 9 before surrendering a clean single to Jimmy Qualls to break up his bid for perfection.  This is the same Jimmy Qualls who finished his career with 31 hits, or 171 fewer than Seaver had as a batter in his career.  Seaver would take no-hitters into the ninth inning again in 1972 and 1975, but neither of those near no-nos would be as cherished as his "Imperfect Game" against the Cubs in 1969.

Cleon Jones catches the final out of the "Imperfect Game" as Tom Seaver ponders what might have been.  (MLB.com)

Seaver's fantastic season - he also posted a 2.21 ERA and struck out 208 batters - earned him his first Cy Young award.  Seaver would have been the unanimous winner of the award had one vote not gone to Braves knuckleball pitcher Phil Niekro.  But Seaver got the last laugh, defeating Niekro in Game One of the NLCS.  The Mets went on to sweep the Braves in the best-of-five series to win their first National League pennant and a date with the powerhouse Baltimore Orioles in the World Series.

Although Seaver lost the first game of the Fall Classic in Baltimore, he came back with a tremendous performance in Game Four at Shea Stadium, pitching ten innings of one-run ball.  The Orioles' sole tally of the game scored on a sacrifice fly by Brooks Robinson in the ninth inning, a play that is now famous in Mets' lore because of Ron Swoboda's jaw-dropping diving catch.  Upon completing the top of the tenth, Seaver was removed for pinch-hitter J.C. Martin, who reached base on an errant throw by Orioles' reliever Pete Richert, which allowed pinch-runner Rod Gaspar to scamper home from second base with the winning run.

Seaver's complete-game, extra-inning masterpiece gave the Mets a commanding 3-1 lead in the series and Jerry Koosman's complete game win the following day wrapped up the Mets' first World Series championship.  In a span of three seasons, Seaver helped transform the Mets from cellar dwellers to penthouse occupants, and he reflected upon the team's sudden rise to the top of the baseball world in a post-game locker room interview with Mets broadcaster Lindsey Nelson.

"No matter what happened, no matter where we were ... we never put our heads between our legs and we always fought and it's the greatest feeling in the world."

With a nucleus built around the young pitching staff that included Seaver, Koosman, Gary Gentry and Nolan Ryan, the Mets were expected to contend for many years to come.  But the team that surpassed Hodges' 85-win prediction never won that many games again under Hodges' leadership, racking up 83 victories in 1970 and 1971.  The sudden death of Hodges prior to the start of the 1972 campaign shook up everyone on the team, but none more so than Seaver.

"It was utter disbelief," said Seaver.  "I don't think Gil's death had an effect on the team but it had an effect on the individuals... He prepared you for your career - and unfortunately one that turned out to be not having him as a manager."

Seaver clearly was affected as an individual during the 1972 season, his first without Gil Hodges as manager since his rookie campaign.  After completing what was arguably his finest season in 1971, setting career highs in complete games (21) and strikeouts (289), while leading the league in ERA (1.76) and WHIP (0.946), Seaver dropped off a bit under new manager Yogi Berra, completing eight fewer starts, striking out 40 fewer hitters and watching his ERA go up by more than a full run, although 13 complete games, 249 Ks and a 2.92 ERA are numbers most pitchers would love to have.  Not satisfied with his season in 1972, Seaver set out to return to championship form in 1973.  It took his teammates a little longer to join him.

Seaver thrived under Gil Hodges and missed him terribly after he was gone.  (Bob Moreland/St. Petersburg Times)

The 1972 season saw the Mets get off to a strong start (32-13 in their first 45 games) before limping to the finish line (51-60 after their hot start).  The hangover continued into the 1973 campaign, as the Mets were below .500 most of the season.  Although Seaver posted an impressive 2.08 ERA through his first 19 starts, he only had nine wins to show for it.  But from July 18 to September 13, Seaver made sure the team wouldn't saddle him with no-decision after no-decision.

In 13 starts over the two-month stretch, Tom Terrific pitched 118⅓ innings, incredibly averaging over nine innings per start.  Seaver won eight of those starts, posting a 1.29 ERA and 0.90 WHIP while holding opposing batters to a .200/.239/.276 slash line.  Included in those starts was a 12-inning, 12-strikeout performance against the Reds in August and an 11-inning, 12 strikeout game versus the Phillies in September.  When Seaver's streak began, the Mets were still double digit games out of first place.  By the time he defeated the Phillies with his Herculean effort on September 13, the Mets had moved to within 2½ games of first place.  Finally, on September 21, Seaver put the Mets in first for good with a complete-game victory over the Pittsburgh Pirates.  Ten days later, the Mets wrapped up their second division crown in five seasons with Seaver earning the title-clinching win over the Chicago Cubs.

The disappointing (to him) 1972 campaign was no longer in Seaver's rear view mirror, as Seaver's 1973 campaign saw him lead the league in ERA (2.08), complete games (18), strikeouts (251), WHIP (0.976), fewest hits per nine innings (6.8), strikeouts per nine innings (7.8) and strikeout to walk ratio (3.92).  Seaver earned his second Cy Young Award and received MVP consideration for the sixth time in seven years.  But Seaver couldn't help the team win its second championship despite having a stellar postseason.  In four games against the Reds and A's, Seaver pitched to a 1.99 ERA, 1.073 WHIP and had 35 strikeouts in 31⅔ innings, but the Mets lost three of those four starts.  With the Mets holding a three games to two lead in the World Series, manager Yogi Berra tabbed Seaver to pitch the potential championship-clinching game on three days rest rather than going to a well-rested George Stone.  The decision failed miserably, as Oakland won a pitchers' duel in Game Six and then took the seventh and deciding game, defeating Jon Matlack on short rest instead of what could have been Seaver on normal rest.  

Passing a kidney stone is a daunting experience.  But passing up Stone for Seaver was enough to give repressed memories to fans for years to come and served as the beginning of the end for the Mets as we knew them.  In fact, Seaver's long-time teammate, Ed Kranepool knew Berra's costly decision to start Seaver over Stone was wrong from the moment it was made.

"Sometimes managers will affect a short series.  The best team is going to win in 162 games, but when it comes to the World Series, a critical mistake by a manager can affect the game.  Sometimes (managers) are asleep,"  said Kranepool.  "George (Stone) was our hottest pitcher down the stretch.  If they knock him out, big deal, we got (Game Seven) with the whole staff.  Yogi is the greatest guy in the world, he's a sweetheart, he's a nice guy but I wouldn't want him to lead me to war."

With the team still stewing over their bitter defeat in the World Series, the 1974 squad became the first to finish with a losing record since 1968 and the first to lose 90+ games since Seaver's rookie campaign.  Seaver's season was easily the worst of his eight-year career, as he won just three of his first 15 starts with an ERA approaching 4.00 during that time, before finishing his injury-plagued year (he suffered from shoulder and hip pain) with a mediocre 11-11 record and 3.20 ERA.  His poor showing caused him to be left off the National League All-Star roster for the first time and also caught the attention of New York Daily News writer Dick Young, who claimed that Seaver "was an agent of discontent among his teammates."

Brushing off his subpar showing in 1974 as well as Young's comments, Seaver rebounded with his third Cy Young Award-winning season in 1975, posting a league-leading 22 wins and 243 strikeouts to go with a 2.38 ERA and 1.088 WHIP.  His pitching brethren, however, did not follow suit, as the rest of the team combined to go 60-71 with a 3.63 ERA and 1.365 WHIP.

Only Sandy Koufax had ever won three Cy Young Awards.  Until Tom Seaver matched him.  (Larry C. Morris/Getty Images)

The opposite was true in 1976, as Seaver could only manage a 14-11 mark on a team that went 86-76, which at the time was the second-most wins in franchise history.  Although Seaver did extend his major league record with his ninth consecutive season of 200 or more strikeouts - Seaver's 235 whiffs gave him a fifth National League strikeout crown - he was no longer the top winner on the team, as both Jerry Koosman (21-10, 2.69 ERA, 200 strikeouts) and Jon Matlack (17-10, 2.95 ERA, team-leading six shutouts) set new career highs in victories.

The 1976 campaign was also the first without original team owner Joan Payson, who passed away just days after the completion of the 1975 regular season.  Upon her death, ownership of the club shifted to her husband, Charles Payson, and their daughter Lorinda de Roulet, but baseball operations were placed solely in the hands of team chairman M. Donald Grant.  As much as Charles and Lorinda were not really fans of baseball, Grant was not a fan of spending money on his own players or on other teams' players, as free agency had just begun around that time.  This, of course, came into play when it was time to negotiate Seaver's contract.

Prior to the 1976 season, Seaver asked Grant for a three-year, $825,000 contract.  Seaver had just won his third Cy Young Award, joining Hall of Famer Sandy Koufax as the only pitchers to have won as many as three.  Grant would have none of Seaver's demands and threatened to trade him to the Dodgers for Don Sutton if he didn't agree to the chairman's terms.  Eventually, Seaver agreed to a three-year, $675,000 deal that would keep him in Flushing.  At the same time, slugger Dave Kingman had noticed the multi-million dollar contract that the Yankees had offered Reggie Jackson and wanted a comparable deal.  When Grant offered Kingman a paltry $200,000, the Sky King held out for more, causing Grant to blame Seaver for what he felt were exorbitant demands by Kingman, as if Seaver's contract squabbles had coerced Kingman to ask for the financial compensation he felt he deserved.

Seaver and Kingman began the 1977 season unhappy with their deals, but still on the team.  By the time the season was half-complete, that would no longer be the case.

Entering the 1977 campaign, New York tabloid writers were mostly on Seaver's side of the argument, seeing how instrumental "The Franchise" was in the success of the franchise.  One such writer was Maury Allen of the New York Post.

"When you have the best pitcher in the world, you sign him, you don't humiliate him," wrote Allen.  "Grant can't stand opposition from Seaver or anybody."

Unfortunately, one writer stood steadfastly with Grant, and that was all it took to get Seaver to ask for a ticket out of New York.  Going back to 1974, Dick Young of the New York Daily News had always been critical of Seaver and how he affected the Mets clubhouse.  But once free agency began, Young really unloaded upon Seaver, calling him a "pouting, griping, morale-breaking clubhouse lawyer poisoning the team."  On the morning of June 15, 1977 - the day of the trade deadline - Young and fellow Daily News scribe Jack Lang took opposing views on the Seaver vs. Grant feud.

"My unhappiness started with the contract negotiations a year-and-a-half ago," said Seaver to Lang.  "All of a sudden, nine years of performance for the Mets was thrown out the window... They even threatened to trade me if I didn't sign it, so I signed."

That deal would have kept Seaver in New York until 1978.  However, the night before the Daily News article was published, Seaver went directly to owner Lorinda de Roulet, bypassing Grant in the process, and finalized a three-year contract extension that would pay him $1.1 million to remain a Met through the 1981 season.  The next day, in his counterpoint to Lang, Young brought up Seaver's good friend and former teammate, Nolan Ryan.  Young also brought up someone else who was quite dear to Seaver.

"Nolan Ryan is now getting more than Seaver", wrote Young in his article, "and that galls Tom because Nancy Seaver and Ruth Ryan are very friendly and Tom Seaver long has treated Nolan Ryan like a little brother."

A dick and a Dick helped push Tom Seaver out of New York.  (AP Photo/Daily News photo)

Seaver had tolerated years of criticism from Young and had always turned the other cheek rather than retaliate.  But once Young brought Seaver's wife into his smear-fest, that was the final straw for Seaver and his decade-long tenure in New York.  "Get me out of here," screamed a disgusted Seaver.  And with those five words, Seaver backed away from his million dollar extension and demanded to be traded.  By the end of the day, "The Midnight Massacre" was complete, with Seaver being dealt to the Reds for Pat Zachry, Steve Henderson, Doug Flynn and Dan Norman.  In addition, Dave Kingman was shipped off to San Diego for Bobby Valentine, which effectively silenced the two players who were most vocal when it came to how much they should be paid for their services.  Or so Grant thought.

At the time of the trade, Seaver had a 7-3 record for the last place Mets and Kingman was leading the team with nine homers and 28 RBI.  Once the deals were consummated, the Mets went 38-63 to end the season with 98 losses.  Meanwhile, Seaver and Kingman let their play on the field do the talking for them.  Seaver posted his fifth 20-win season in 1977 and led the league in shutouts (7) and WHIP (1.014), which helped him finish in a third-place tie for the Cy Young Award, while Kingman continued to hit the long ball, peaking two years later when he smacked a league-leading 48 homers and drove in 115 runs for the Cubs.

From 1977 to 1982, the Mets finished in last place four times, never winning more than 67 games.  But with the sale of the team in 1980 to Nelson Doubleday and Fred Wilpon, the days of playing in "Grant's Tomb" were soon to be over.  By 1983, the team had brought back Kingman, traded for George Foster, were about to call up top hitting prospect Darryl Strawberry and were soon to acquire perennial Gold Glove winner Keith Hernandez.  One other veteran was added to the mix in 1983 - one that was happy to return now that M. Donald Grant was no longer running the show.

In his first five seasons with the Reds, Seaver posted a 70-33 record, finally completed the no-hitter that eluded him on three occasions as a Met, and had three top-five finishes in the Cy Young Award vote, including a second-place finish behind Fernando Valenzuela in the strike-shortened 1981 campaign.  But Seaver's 1982 season was one of physical pain (shoulder) and professional embarrassment, as the 37-year-old struggled through 21 starts, averaging barely over five innings per outing and posting a 5-13 record, 5.50 ERA and 1.617 WHIP.  The Reds wanted nothing to do with Seaver entering the 1983 season, and the Mets were quick to bring him back to Flushing.

(Focus On Sport/Getty Images)

Seaver posted his second consecutive losing season in 1983, going 9-14 in 34 starts.  Although that represented his worst record in 12½ seasons as a Met, Seaver did improve his ERA by nearly two runs (3.55) and his 231 innings were the most he had thrown since 1978.  At age 38 and in his 17th season in the big leagues, Seaver managed to lead all Mets starters in innings pitched and ERA, as well as strikeouts (135) and WHIP (1.242).  He also tied for the team lead in starts (34), complete games (5) and shutouts (2).  Seaver's return to New York did not help the Mets in the National League East standings, as the team finished the 1983 campaign in last place with a less than spectacular 68-94 record.  However, that still represented the most wins the Mets had recorded since 1976 - Seaver's last full season with the team.  

But the place where the Mets really reaped the rewards of Seaver's return was in the ticket booth.  Whenever a pitcher other than Seaver started for the Mets at Shea Stadium in 1983, an average of 12,284 fans were in attendance.  But in Seaver's 19 starts at home, the average attendance nearly doubled to 23,007 fans.  The Mets had seven home dates during the 1983 season in which they surpassed 30,000 fans.  All seven were Seaver starts.

Despite the obvious attendance boost that Seaver gave the team, the Mets front office failed to protect him in the free agent compensation draft.  Although Seaver was under contract for the 1984 season, the Mets incorrectly assumed that his age (Seaver turned 39 in November), contract (he was due to earn nearly $800,000 in 1984) and his 20-37 won-loss record over the previous two seasons would discourage potential suitors from scooping him out of the compensation pool.  They were wrong.  For the second time in seven years, "The Franchise" parted ways with the Mets, this time going to the Chicago White Sox.

"It's a personal decision," said Seaver about the Mets' decision to leave him unprotected.  "I don't feel betrayed, and I'm not going to blast anybody.  But I'm upset.  It was a mistake, they admit that."

Seaver left New York just 27 wins shy of 300 for his career and two victories away from 200 as a Met.  He then proceeded to go 31-22 for the White Sox over the 1984 and 1985 campaigns, despite the fact that Chicago was a combined 159-165 over the two seasons.  Seaver pitched nearly 500 innings over the two seasons and had 16 complete games and five shutouts, with one of those complete games coming on August 4, 1985 at Yankee Stadium, when Seaver earned his 300th win.  Not bad for a supposedly washed-up quadragenarian.

After splitting the season between the White Sox and Red Sox in 1986 (and watching the Mets win the World Series from the visitors' dugout), Seaver got one more chance to play for the Mets when he was signed by the team on June 5, 1987 after a rash of injuries felled several of the club's pitchers.  But the third time with the Mets was not the charm for the 42-year-old Seaver, as a poor outing in a simulated game on June 20 - one in which Seaver allowed Mets backup catcher Barry Lyons to go 6-for-6 against him with a home run - ended Seaver's comeback and career.

"In my heart, I feel the time has come for me not to play anymore," said Seaver at his retirement press conference.  "I've used up all the competitive pitches in me... I don't know what the future holds for me.  That's what I'll be digesting for the next year.  I'm sure the answer is out there.  I'm not going to rush into anything."

The future for Seaver held many accolades.  First, in 1988, his number was retired by the Mets, making him the first player in franchise history to have his number permanently removed from circulation.  (Casey Stengel and Gil Hodges were bestowed that honor as managers.)  Then, in 1992, Seaver was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, receiving the support of 98.8% of the voters - a record that stood until Ken Griffey Jr. was named on 99.3% of the ballots in 2016.

Tom Seaver.  Hall of Famer.  Baseball Legend.  (Bettmann/Getty Images)

Tom Seaver was named "The Franchise" not just because he's the Mets' all-time leader in the majority of pitching categories.  He received that nickname because he brought life to a dormant franchise.  When he first pitched for the Mets in 1967, Seaver gave fans hope that the team was finally heading in the right direction.  Two years later, he helped deliver a miraculous championship to the masses.  When he left in 1977, the hopes of the franchise went with him and the team embarked through a moribund period that lasted for more than half a decade.  Once Seaver returned in 1983, fans flocked to Shea Stadium to see him pitch when nothing else would bring them to the ballpark.  And until Mike Piazza was enshrined in Cooperstown in 2016, Seaver was the only Hall of Famer wearing a Mets cap on his plaque.

He threw a no-hitter as a member of the Cincinnati Reds.  He won his 300th game pitching for the Chicago White Sox.  But he won his only championship with the New York Mets.  In 20 big league seasons, Tom Seaver experienced all the highs and lows a player can face.  He pitched for winning teams and he pitched for second division clubs.  He also dealt with an untrustworthy front office and the backstabbing media as well as he could.

"The Franchise" will always be loved and remembered in New York.  It's unfortunate that not all of his memories of New York are ones he would love to remember.


Note: The Thrill of Victory, The Agony of the Mets is a thirteen-part weekly series spotlighting those Mets players and personnel who experienced the best of times and the worst of times with the team.  Please come back next week for the latest installment.