June 15, 1983: My Ten-Year-Old Self Shares Memories of My First Mets Game

The Internet did not exist in 1983.  Neither did winning baseball at Shea Stadium.  As a ten-year-old Mets fan in '83, I knew as much about the World Series as I did the World Wide Web, as both were still years away from becoming a reality.

So when my Little League team decided to attend a Mets game together on Wednesday, June 15, 1983, I was naturally excited but I didn't have a forum to document my experience.  (My mother had discovered my diary just a weeks before the game and because of her find, I wasn't allowed to write in it anymore.  Censorship at its overprotective motherly worst.)

It's been exactly 37 years since I attended that game, so I thought now would be a perfect time to finally tell that story.  To make this recap even more special, I have decided to allow my ten-year-old self access to my computer.  I figured more people would be able to read the recap that way instead of trying to read it on my just-returned-to-me diary.

Take it away, Eddie!

Hi, everyone!  My name is Eddie Leyro and I'm ten-and-a-half years old.  I just got home from Shea Stadium where I saw my first-ever Mets game!  I went to the game with my Little League team and some of the coaches and I had an awesome time.  Well, it would have been better than awesome had the Mets actually won the game.  But stupid Rusty Staub made a dumb error in the tenth inning that helped the Chicago Cubs win the game.  I mean, seriously.  Even Orko from the "He-Man" cartoon could've made that play and he floats in mid-air!

Anyway, the game started with Craig Swan sucking more than Madonna's music.  (I mean, do you really think she's going to have a long career as a singer?  She's no Toni Basil!)  Swan was knocked out of the game in the second inning after giving up an RBI single to Bill Buckner in the first and allowing Jody Davis, Mel Hall and Ryne Sandberg to drive in runs in the second.

Once Swan hit the showers, I figured I'd hit the concession stand with my teammates, David and Robby.  But I never got my hot dog because the coaches had to get off the line to break up a fight by our pitcher, Walter and our second baseman, Ricky in the bathroom.  Walter was also the son of our manager, so you can imagine who got blamed for starting it.  (Hint: Not Walter.)  Needless to say, I never got my hot dog.  The coaches made us all go back to our upper deck seats and no hot dog vendor came around.  The only other time they allowed us to get out of our seats was when a few of the guys had to go to the bathroom.  I didn't go because I don't like peeing in public.  I'm as afraid of public restrooms as B.A. Baracus is of flying on a plane.

Anyway, by the time we got back to our seats, the Mets had already scored a run to cut the Cubs' lead to 4-1 and I just managed to see my first major league home run, a shot by Hubie Brooks in the bottom of the third to make it 4-2.  I didn't get why people were booing him until I was told that the fans were actually saying "HUUUUUUUUUU-bie".  Baseball fans are very weird.

The fans also cheered a message that was posted on the DiamondVision about some guy named Keith Hernandez.  Apparently, he was just traded to the Mets for a few pitchers.  He can't be as bad as the guys already on the team, right?

Oh, I almost forgot!  The Mets tied the game right after the DiamondVision announcement on an RBI double by Jose Oquendo and a run-scoring single by Danny Heep.  But of course, Heep got greedy like Boss Hogg and got thrown out trying to get to second base.  Had Heep not gotten thrown out, the Mets might have taken the lead in that inning.  Instead, the game was just tied, 4-4, and stayed that way through nine innings.

Maybe if Danny Heep didn't have such a big ear flap on his helmet, he'd have seen he was going to be out by a mile.

Coach Walter, Sr., announced that we would stay for the tenth inning, but we'd have to go home if the game kept going.  It was a Wednesday night and we had to go to school the next day.  So I started praying for the Mets to hold the Cubs scoreless in the tenth and then maybe Hubie Brooks could hit another home run to win it in the bottom of the inning.  But while I was alternating between one of my many Hail Marys and Our Fathers, the Cubs scored three runs, all because our first baseman, Rusty Staub, made a lousy error.

The Mets didn't score in the bottom of the tenth, as Hubie Brooks made an out and the skinny rookie, Darryl Strawberry, grounded into a double play to end the game.  All I kept thinking as we walked down the Shea Stadium ramps was:

a)  This Keith Hernandez better be a good first baseman so that this Rusty Staub guy isn't allowed to make more stupid errors.

2)  Why do we have to go down these long ramps when there are escalators all over the place?

iii)  Oh, snap!  I never got my hot dog!

So that's it.  My first Shea Stadium experience.  Craig Swan sucked.  My teammates fought in the bathroom.  And Rusty Staub should never play first base again.  But at least the experience was more fun than having to sit through another rerun of "The Facts of Life", which I would have done had I stayed home.  (They should really move "Magnum P.I." from Thursday to Wednesday.  That would be, like, totally awesome.)

I hope you liked my recap.  Maybe I should ask my mom to get me a Commodore 64.  I'm sure it's a lot better to write on than my diary! 

I certainly didn't adore my easily-read diary.

June 15, 1983: Ten-Year-Old Me Recaps My First Mets Game

The Internet did not exist in 1983.  Neither did winning baseball at Shea Stadium.  As a ten-year-old Mets fan in '83, I knew as much about the World Series as I did the World Wide Web, as both were still years away from becoming a reality.

So when my Little League team decided to attend a Mets game together on Wednesday, June 15, 1983, I was naturally excited but I didn't have a forum to document my experience.  (My mother had discovered my diary just a weeks before the game and because of her find, I wasn't allowed to write in it anymore.  Censorship at its overprotective motherly worst.)

It's been exactly 33 years since I attended that game, so I thought now would be a perfect time to finally tell that story.  To make this recap even more special, I have decided to allow my ten-year-old self access to my computer.  I figured more people would be able to read the recap that way instead of trying to read it on my just-returned-to-me diary.

Take it away, Eddie!

Hi, everyone!  My name is Eddie Leyro and I'm ten-and-a-half years old.  I just got home from Shea Stadium where I saw my first-ever Mets game!  I went to the game with my Little League team and some of the coaches and I had an awesome time.  Well, it would have been better than awesome had the Mets actually won the game.  But stupid Rusty Staub made a dumb error in the tenth inning that helped the Chicago Cubs win the game.  I mean, seriously.  Even Orko from the "He-Man" cartoon could've made that play and he floats in mid-air!

Anyway, the game started with Craig Swan sucking more than Madonna's music.  (I mean, do you really think she's going to have a long career as a singer?  She's no Toni Basil!)  Swan was knocked out of the game in the second inning after giving up an RBI single to Bill Buckner in the first and allowing Jody Davis, Mel Hall and Ryne Sandberg to drive in runs in the second.

Once Swan hit the showers, I figured I'd hit the concession stand with my teammates, David and Robby.  But I never got my hot dog because the coaches had to get off the line to break up a fight by our pitcher, Walter and our second baseman, Ricky in the bathroom.  Walter was also the son of our manager, so you can imagine who got blamed for starting it.  (Hint: Not Walter.)  Needless to say, I never got my hot dog.  The coaches made us all go back to our upper deck seats and no hot dog vendor came around.  The only other time they allowed us to get out of our seats was when a few of the guys had to go to the bathroom.  I didn't go because I don't like peeing in public.  I'm as afraid of public restrooms as B.A. Baracus is of flying on a plane.

Anyway, by the time we got back to our seats, the Mets had already scored a run to cut the Cubs' lead to 4-1 and I just managed to see my first major league home run, a shot by Hubie Brooks in the bottom of the third to make it 4-2.  I didn't get why people were booing him until I was told that the fans were actually saying "HUUUUUUUUUU-bie".  Baseball fans are very weird.

The fans also cheered a message that was posted on the DiamondVision about some guy named Keith Hernandez.  Apparently, he was just traded to the Mets for a few pitchers.  He can't be as bad as the guys already on the team, right?

Oh, I almost forgot!  The Mets tied the game right after the DiamondVision announcement on an RBI double by Jose Oquendo and a run-scoring single by Danny Heep.  But of course, Heep got greedy like Boss Hogg and got thrown out trying to get to second base.  Had Heep not gotten thrown out, the Mets might have taken the lead in that inning.  Instead, the game was just tied, 4-4, and stayed that way through nine innings.

Maybe if Danny Heep didn't have such a big ear flap on his helmet, he'd have seen he was going to be out by a mile.

Coach Walter, Sr., announced that we would stay for the tenth inning, but we'd have to go home if the game kept going.  It was a Wednesday night and we had to go to school the next day.  So I started praying for the Mets to hold the Cubs scoreless in the tenth and then maybe Hubie Brooks could hit another home run to win it in the bottom of the inning.  But while I was alternating between one of my many Hail Marys and Our Fathers, the Cubs scored three runs, all because our first baseman, Rusty Staub, made a lousy error.

The Mets didn't score in the bottom of the tenth, as Hubie Brooks made an out and the skinny rookie, Darryl Strawberry, grounded into a double play to end the game.  All I kept thinking as we walked down the Shea Stadium ramps was:

a)  This Keith Hernandez better be a good first baseman so that this Rusty Staub guy isn't allowed to make more stupid errors.

2)  Why do we have to go down these long ramps when there are escalators all over the place?

iii)  Oh, snap!  I never got my hot dog!

So that's it.  My first Shea Stadium experience.  Craig Swan sucked.  My teammates fought in the bathroom.  And Rusty Staub should never play first base again.  But at least the experience was more fun than having to sit through another rerun of "The Facts of Life", which I would have done had I stayed home.  (They should really move "Magnum P.I." from Thursday to Wednesday.  That would be, like, totally awesome.)

I hope you liked my recap.  Maybe I should ask my mom to get me a Commodore 64.  It's sure a lot better to write on than my diary! 

I certainly didn't adore my easily-read diary.

A "Best On The Worst" Side Story: Ten-Year-Old Me Writes About Craig Swan

The Internet did not exist in 1983.  Neither did winning baseball at Shea Stadium.  As a ten-year-old Mets fan in '83, I knew as much about the World Series as I did the World Wide Web, as both were still years away from becoming a reality.

So when my little league team decided to attend a Mets game together on Wednesday, June 15, 1983, I was naturally excited but I didn't have a forum to document my experience.  (My mother had discovered my diary just a weeks before the game and because of her find, I wasn't allowed to write in it anymore.  Censorship at its overprotective motherly worst.)

It's been more than three decades since I attended that game, but with this past week's installment of "The Best On The Worst" focusing on former Mets hurler Craig Swan, I thought now would be a perfect time to finally tell that story.  After all, Swan started that game on June 15, 1983, throwing the first pitch I would ever see in a big league ballpark.

To make this recap even more special, I have decided to allow my ten-year-old self access to my computer.  I figured more people would be able to read the recap that way instead of trying to read it on my just-returned-to-me diary.

Take it away, Eddie!

Hi, everyone!  My name is Eddie Leyro and I'm ten-and-a-half years old.  I just got home from Shea Stadium where I saw my first-ever Mets game!  I went to the game with my little league team and some of the coaches and I had an awesome time.  Well, it would have been better than awesome had the Mets actually won the game.  But stupid Rusty Staub made a dumb error in the tenth inning that helped the Chicago Cubs win the game.  I mean, seriously.  Even Orko from the "He-Man" cartoon could've made that play and he floats in mid-air!

Anyway, the game started with Craig Swan sucking more than Madonna's music.  (I mean, do you really think she's going to have a long career as singer?  She's no Toni Basil!)  Swan was knocked out of the game in the second inning after giving up an RBI single to Bill Buckner in the first and allowing Jody Davis, Mel Hall and Ryne Sandberg to drive in runs in the second.

Once Swan hit the showers, I figured I'd hit the concession stand with my teammates, David and Robby.  But I never got my hot dog because the coaches had to get off the line to break up a fight by our pitcher, Walter and our second baseman, Ricky in the bathroom.  Walter was also the son of our manager, so you can imagine who got blamed for starting it.  Needless to say, I never got my hot dog.  The coaches made us all go back to our upper deck seats and no hot dog vendor came around.  The only other time they allowed us to get out of our seats was when a few of the guys had to go to the bathroom.  I didn't go because I don't like peeing in public.  I'm as afraid of public restrooms as B.A. Baracus is of flying on a plane.

Anyway, by the time we got back to our seats, the Mets had already scored a run to cut the score to 4-1 and I just managed to see my first major league home run, a shot by Hubie Brooks in the bottom of the third to make it 4-2.  I didn't get why people were booing him until I was told that the fans were actually saying "HUUUUUUUUUU-bie".  Baseball fans are very weird.

The fans also cheered a message that was posted on the DiamondVision about some guy named Keith Hernandez.  Apparently, he was just traded to the Mets for a few pitchers.  He can't be as bad as the guys already on the team, right?

Oh, I almost forgot!  The Mets tied the game right after the DiamondVision announcement on an RBI double by Jose Oquendo and a run-scoring single by Danny Heep.  But of course, Heep got greedy like Boss Hogg and got thrown out trying to get to second base.  Had Heep not gotten thrown out, the Mets might have taken the lead in that inning.  Instead, the game was just tied, 4-4, and stayed that way through nine innings.

Maybe if Danny Heep didn't have such a big ear flap on his helmet, he'd have seen he was going to be out by a mile.

Coach Walter, Sr., announced that we would stay for the tenth inning, but we'd have to go home if the game kept going.  It was a Wednesday night and we had to go to school the next day.  So I started praying for the Mets to hold the Cubs scoreless in the tenth and then maybe Hubie Brooks could hit another home run to win it in the bottom of the inning.  But while I was alternating between one of my many Hail Marys and Our Fathers, the Cubs scored three runs, all because our first baseman, Rusty Staub, made a lousy error.

The Mets didn't score in the bottom of the tenth, as Hubie Brooks made an out and the skinny rookie, Darryl Strawberry, grounded into a double play to end the game.  All I kept thinking as we walked down the Shea Stadium ramps was:

a)  This Keith Hernandez better be a good first baseman so that this Rusty Staub guy isn't allowed to make more stupid errors.

2)  Why do we have to go down these long ramps when there are escalators all over the place?

iii)  Oh, snap!  I never got my hot dog!

So that's it.  My first Shea Stadium experience.  Craig Swan sucked.  My teammates fought in the bathroom.  And Rusty Staub should never play first base again.  But at least the experience was more fun than having to sit through another rerun of "The Facts of Life", which I would have done had I stayed home.  (They should really move "Magnum P.I." from Thursday to Wednesday.  That would be, like, totally awesome.)

I hope you liked my recap.  Maybe I should ask my mom to get me a Commodore 64.  It's sure a lot better to write on than my diary! 

I certainly didn't adore my easily-read diary.

Luis Castillo: I Pity The Fool

Listen up, fools. This is Mr. T, filling in for your usual Studious Metsimus staff. Unlike Justin Bieber, I'm not going to waste your time, so I'll get right to the point. I pity the fool who says stupid things and right now, I pity Luis Castillo.

If you hadn't already heard, during the Mets' recent trip to Washington, the team visited the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, where they met and talked to various wounded veterans.

I respect the Mets for visiting these American heroes who put their lives on the line protecting the freedoms we have in this country. However, there were three members who were absent from the team event.

One was Carlos Beltran, who was tending to business surrounding the construction of the high school/baseball academy that will bear his name in his native Puerto Rico. I respect a man who wants to give back to his community, especially in the education department. (Stay in school, don't do drugs.) Therefore, I'll give Beltran a pass for not visiting Walter Reed, especially after finding out that he had already visited a Veterans Hospital last November.

Another of the Three Missing Amigos was Oliver Perez. Although Ollie didn't give a clear excuse for his no-show, it can be assumed that he was doing one of three things:

a) Attending a special screening of "Machete".
2) Opening up his latest restaurant.
iii) Contemplating whether or not he should accept a minor league assignment (even though the minor league regular season is over).

I figure that with the all the free passes Ollie has given to opposing hitters over the years, it's about time someone gives him a free pass, so I won't pity him for skipping out on the team trip to Walter Reed. (But I better get VIP treatment at his restaurant!)

The fool I have a problem with is Luis Castillo. Did you hear the jibber jabber that came out of his mouth when he was asked why he didn't attend?

"I don't like to see people like that, so I never go there. Sometimes you see people with no legs, no arms. I don't like to see that."

So Luis Castillo gets a little squeamish when he sees people without legs or arms. Perhaps our resident Squeam Queen should be reminded that the Mets invite a different wounded member of the military to each home game at Citi Field as part of the "Welcome Back Veterans" program. Some of these veterans lost their limbs while trying to protect the foundations that this country was built on. In other words, those veterans are there to see Luis Castillo. But apparently, he can't spend a few moments with them?

Does Castillo need to be reminded that although he has two hands, he only knows how to use one of them on the field (and sometimes his working hand has been known to be defective)? Perhaps Luis should donate that appendage to one of the veterans who could put it to better use.

Get off your knees, fool! You can't apologize now! You already stuck your foot in your mouth with your insensitive comments. So you cringe at the prospect of seeing a veteran with only one hand. Now you know what Mets fans feel like when you go after a pop-up with that same one hand.

You could have come up with a better excuse, like the one given by Beltran or the multitude of possible excuses for Oliver Perez. I would have forgiven you if you had said you were playing in a "Battleship" tournament to honor the members of the military.


(Side note: Can you imagine Luis Castillo playing "Battleship"? It would sound something like this):

Luis Castillo: K-9.
Opponent: Miss.
Luis Castillo: Crap.
Opponent: E-4.
Luis Castillo: Hit. You sunk my battleship. How did you know it was there?
Opponent: I didn't.
Luis Castillo: Then why did you call out that number?
Opponent: I was thinking of you playing defense and E-4 just naturally popped into my head.


I expected better from you, Luis Castillo, but you had to be a punk by insulting American military personnel. But don't worry. I know where you work. I'm gonna bust you up. Remember my name, fool!

First name...Mr.
Middle name...Period.
Last name...T.

Those men and women fought for YOUR right to have the freedom to come to this country and make the millions of dollars you're making. The next time you have the opportunity to thank them, you better make sure you do, or else you'll have made the worst kind of error.

Mark McGwire Should've Listened To Mr. T

So as many of you probably know by now, Mark McGwire decided to come out of the closet today. No, not the closet that Tom Cruise is in. McGwire decided to come clean, so to speak, about his use of steroids during his baseball career, ending many years of speculation.

In 15 years in the major leagues, McGwire was one of the best power hitters of his generation, finishing his career with 583 HR, including a then-record 70 HR in 1998.

However, that season and numerous other seasons in the '90s must now be discounted because McGwire admitted to using steroids during most of that decade.

If you recall, McGwire hit 49 HR as a rookie in 1987 (he hit three HR during a brief callup in September 1986). At the time, the Bash Brother looked like this:

McGwire admitted that he began using steroids during the winter between the 1989 and 1990 baseball seasons and continued to use them throughout the 1990s, including his record-setting 1998 campaign. He hit 245 HR in the four-year period between 1996 and 1999.

During that four-year stretch, McGwire looked like this:

If McGwire was going for the He-Man look, he should have just said "By The Power of Grayskull" and his transformation would have been instantaneous and would not have generated controversy. No steroids would have been needed in this case.

However, he decided to have his Wheaties with some juice and now he's paying the price. Studious Metsimus believes he will NEVER be voted into the Hall of Fame now. Admission of guilt will just cause the voters to consider his numbers that were not fueled by steroids (i.e. the numbers that are not sponsored by the letters "H" and "R").

Consider this. McGwire finished his career with 583 HR. However, he only picked up 1,626 hits and scored 1,167 runs in his 15 years in the big leagues. That means, he barely had over 1,000 hits that were not home runs and only scored 584 runs when he didn't drive himself in. Also, as hard as it is to believe, McGwire never hit more than 28 doubles in a single season.

Compare that to Fred McGriff's stats. McGriff collected 2,490 career hits, of which 493 left the yard. He was only three hits short of picking up 2,000 hits that were not home runs. He also scored 1,349 runs, meaning he scored 856 times when he didn't drive himself in. McGriff hit .284 over his career, as opposed to Big Mac's .263 lifetime average.

So why am I bringing up Fred McGriff? Because in his first year of Hall of Fame eligibility, the Crime Dog received 116 votes, or 21.5%. McGwire "earned" 12 more votes than McGriff did (128 votes; 23.7%), although McGriff clearly was a more complete player than McGwire was. More importantly, there is no cloud of steroids hanging over McGriff while there has been a decade-long thunderstorm over Mt. McGwire.

So what does all this have to do with Mr. T? After all, he is mentioned in the title of this blog. Well, from 1983-1986, during the height of Mr. T's popularity, he was the star of his own Saturday morning cartoon.

Each show ended with some random bad guy being caught and a lesson being learned. Basically, everything was either "stay in school" or "don't do drugs". Unfortunately, the show went off the air before Mark McGwire came up to the big leagues.

Had the show been on the air for one more season, perhaps McGwire would have known that taking steroids does nothing but inflate your head, not your production. Sure, he hit a few extra homers, but his reputation took a hit as well, one that might never be fully repaired, even with his return to baseball as the Cardinals' hitting coach.

Mark McGwire cheated himself and baseball fans when he took steroids in an attempt to "heal faster". Even with his admission, it will take more than steroids to heal this wound.

The power of Grayskull tempted him, but he should have known that we'd pity any fool who felt the need to take drugs.