More telling were his quotes regarding the Mets intensity. Fans will agree with that. Darryl’s characterization of the 86 Mets’ moxie is similar to my own. It’s not so easy though. Frank Cashen referred to it as “fire in the belly” on the day he fired Davey Johnson in 1990.

By that time, a different set of players were around. No Ray Knight. No Roger McDowell. No Lenny Dykstra. No Jesse Orosco. No Mookie Wilson. A far different chemistry existed in the Mets clubhouse. A different formula for success was in place that didn’t work as well. The club didn’t play as well as it had because it wasn’t as good. Cashen unfairly took that to mean that the team wasn’t playing as hard or cared as much. Bobby Ojeda took exception to Cashen’s statement and spoke to both him and Buddy Harrelson who shared similar views.
Harrelson was gone before the end of the next season. Cashen sceeded control to Al Harazin and Jerry Hundsicker a few days later.

Essentially it has little to do with caring or intensity. Chemistry in a positive sense spawns from winning combination of players. To be sure negative influences can cause harm . See Gregg Jefferies, Eddie Murray, and Tony Bernazard.

I’m hopeful that a subtle change can occur in these Mets’ clubhouse. With the departure of a subdued Carlos Delgado, a new hierchy will emerge among everyday players. The example of intensity will come from David Wright, Jeff Francouer and Jason Bay. A healthy Jose Reyes, the lovable foil.

And if the pitchers can get enough outs we just might see some of that “fire in the belly”.

A small fact about Zduriencik is that he was part of the group of advance scouts who followed the Astros prior to the 1986 playoffs. They provided some extremely important tid bits. One involved right fielder Kevin Bass. It seems that Bass, while having a strong throwing arm had become wildly inaccuarte and was missing the cut-off man.

After Darryl Strawberry’s Game 6 lead-off double in the 16th, Ray Knight followed with a base hit to right field. Third base coach Buddy Harrelson did not hesitate sending Strawberry home even with the ball being hit right to Bass. His throw was wild to the plate and it allowed Knight to easily get to second. The Mets added two additional runs and after a nail-biting bottom half of the inning, we won to go on to the World Series.

Frank Cashen, Davey Johnson, Doc Gooden and Darryl Strawberry to the Mets Hall of Fame.

Matt Cerrone’s informative post indicated the Mets quietly named four people – Marty Noble, Howie Rose, Gay Cohen and Jay Horwitz – to it’s Hall of Fame committee. I can’t think of four better people.

The inclusion of Horwitz is telling and signals a change in the way the powers that be make decisions. For many years, the club sought to supress Horwitz’ influence. He was perceived to be too close to on-field personnel, and it took almost two decades before he was named a vice president. It always seemed that some were jealous of Horwitz’ ability to forge relationships with people throughout the game. Even while overwhelmed with paranoia, they could never bring themselves to fire him. He’s just too good. And it’s time they started taking advantage of this remarkable and gifted man.

John Franco is back in uniform, working as a Spring Training instructor. And his responsibilities are? “I do what Darryl does,” he says. But Darryl Strawberry’s job description is “to be Darryl Strawberry.”

“I’ll have to grow,” Franco said.

Franco, always a conspicuous presence in the clubhouse when he played, is quieter these days. “I’m on the other side of the room now,” he says.

I know what they mean about Franco. I was a frequent foil for Franco and catcher Rick Cerone in 1991. For some reason I was always getting fined in the kangaroo court that Franco insisted upon. We’d often wished Franco were an everyday player who’s energy and exhuberance the team could have fed off. I wonder if Darryl still gets on Franco about the two walk-off homeruns he hit off of him when he pitched for the Reds.

“I was too old. I was late in the game. If you would have caught me when I was 24, 25, in the midst of my career, of course. I was naïve, stupid, just like Alex was. When I saw his comments, I could relate to that, because I was stupid too when I was a 24-, 25-, 26-year-old. I did a lot of stupid things.”

The headlines lead the reader to believe that Strawberry had been flippant about steroids but his complete comment makes it clear he was saying more about they way he perceived himself at the time.

So what does Selig propose to do about it? Are MLB to start punishing players who conduct themselves this way when they are under garunteed contracts. We’ll see.