Tales from the 1962 New York Mets: A Collection of the Greatest Stories Ever Told [Hardcover]

 

 

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This is a fun little read that will appeal mostly to diehard Mets fans or baseball historians. Seven years before they stunned the world, the Mets' founding fathers logged the dreadfully dubious distinction of being the worst team in the history of baseball, a record that stands today, despite the dismal efforts of the 2003 Tigers. The book relates all the uncanny blunders of the '62 season--from the first pitch of spring training to the triple play that ended the final game--through a series of very brief passages comprised of anecdotes and game wrap-ups. The chronology makes for easy reading, although Paskin touches on a few intriguing subjects that leave you wishing she had done a more in-depth examination. (For instance, she mentions briefly the team's contention that, although they certainly weren't all-stars, the Mets weren't quite as bad as perceived and lost several close games because they were victimized by umpires who refused to give them breaks on close calls. I would like to have seen that explored and explained more.) But this book is driven by personalities and narratives not investigative scrutiny, and all the characters are here: beloved but aging ex-Dodgers like Gil Hodges (who would go on to coach the Mets to championship glory in '69); solid players like Richie Ashburn, who took the Mets' many losses personally and chose to retire after the '62 season rather than endure another year in a Mets uniform; the inestimably inept Marv Eugene Throneberry (initials M.E.T); and the passionate New York fans who, still stinging from the loss of the Dodgers and the Giants in '57, packed the Polo Grounds even as the Mets kept losing, and have remained true to the blue and orange to this day. But the undisputed star of the book is the truly legendary Casey Stengel, who coached the Mets to ignominy that year. His famously unflappable personality and oddball antics had not waned an iota, even though he was in his 70s at the time. However, as you read you're left with the feeling that perhaps the Mets might have done better that year had they not had a coach who regularly forgot the players' names, would fall asleep in the middle innings, and issued quotes to the press like, "The team is coming along slow but fast." Still, even if the Mets might have won a few more games that year with a more adept coach, they would not have been as laughable and lovable. The '62 season is a large part of the Mets mystique and, although I was only 2 years old at the time, I'm as proud of that team as I am of the '69 and '86 champs. Above all, the book reminded me of my dad, who loved the Mets from day one. I remember him telling a story of a game that year in which Marvelous Marv attempted to field a routine infield pop-up, lost it in the sun, and was promptly struck on the forehead with the ball and had to be helped off the field. No matter how many times he told the story, it was always accompanied by deep belly laughs. Whenever I watch the Mets lose (and I'm doing that right now) I think that no matter how bad it gets, it will never be as bad as it was in '62. Then again, it may never be as good either.

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