It snowed the morning of January 18th. That was the scheduled date for the first annual Queens Baseball Convention – “QBC” for short. Your intrepid columnist wasn’t going to miss this for all the ice in Antarctica; besides, what better way to spend a snowy Saturday than to take three trains and one subway out to Citi Field? The odyssey began in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, when I shared a NJ Transit car with a pack of giggly high schoolers on the way to deliver coats and blankets to a homeless shelter. Right away, that put a “good karma” stamp on the day. It didn’t disappoint.
On arrival at McFadden’s, there was a line about twenty-deep at the door. I took that as another good sign. I bumped into my good friend Jason Fry and we both expressed a cautious hope that the day would be a success. We needn’t have worried. About a thousand people passed McFadden’s doors to hang out, talk baseball, buy stuff, meet bloggers, get autographs, eat and drink. It was a beautiful, grass-roots expression of our affection for this team – if not necessarily its hierarchy – and our individual personal histories with it. This sea of Mets jerseys on the main floor was due to the efforts of the event’s spearheads, Shannon Shark, and Darren Meenen. They went above and beyond to provide something worthwhile for the fans’ buck, a concept that somehow eludes Mets’ ownership. But I digress…
Once in out of the cold, I saw many friends of long-standing: Greg Prince, Steve Keane, Mark Healy, Ed Marcus and Taryn Cooper. I was also lucky enough to have some good conversations with such luminaries as Matthew Cerrone, and Mike Silva. Luckily enough, most of these blogging bigshots were participants in the first “symposium” of the day, basically, a talk on what it’s like to blog: right in my wheelhouse. When that broke up, the first special guest of the day arrived. It was Ron Darling. I had left the room for a moment and when I returned, Darling had already started his session and I couldn’t get near getting back in. I ambled over to what was dubbed “Podcast Alley” to hook up with our colleague Joe Vasile, who was casting the event. Expecting someone of about my own age or older, I was shocked to find that Joe is actually about eleven years old. I exaggerate slightly. Anyway I sat down with Joe and we talked for a solid half hour, until it was time for me to join the rest of the Convention in the line to get Darling’s autograph. I didn’t have any pictures of Darling I could get to easily, so I brought my paperback copy of The Image Of Their Greatness, a photographic history of Major League baseball from 1900 to 1992. I presented the book, open to the iconic photo of Mookie Wilson running up the first base line as Bill Buckner gives futile chase to the ball that has just trickled between his battered ankles to end Game Six of the 1986 World Series. I told Darling, “I should have bought your book for you to sign.” He said, “Don’t worry, you’ve still got time.” I thanked him and shook his hand, the hand that fired the fastballs and curves that wrapped up that Series.
After that, it was more hobnobbing with fellow bloggers. I made the comment to Greg and Jason that this was basically a “blogger trade show.” I imitated a businessman at a conference, in my best Tim Matheson voice: “Hi. Charlie Hangley, Mets 360. Damn glad to meetcha.”
Next came a talk by Ed Kranepool, a hero of my youth. I missed most of that, too, but again, waited in a long line for his autograph. When I got to his table and he signed my book, I relayed that he made one of my best days at Shea: a walk-off pinch homer off Stan Bahnsen to beat Montreal the second game of the season in 1978. He said, “Aaaaaaah, those were the days, boy!” and shook my hand.
During the podcast with Joe Vasile, I mentioned again that the beauty of the thing was that it was completely organic. It came from the fans, rather than springing from the forehead of Jay Horwitz or the departed David Howard and it also brought the realization that we as fans have to have each other’s back, seeing as ownership doesn’t – in stark contrast to how it was for decades with the team across town .
In the snow and frigid temps, it was a beautiful day for a ballgame.
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Like Jay Horwitz would have ever come up with this idea…
My thoughts about Ron Darling: He was, as always, well-spoken, talked about himself (his legendary match-up against Frank Viola in college), he spoke about being on the 1986 championship team and how great that was, he talked about his position as a member of the Mets’ media team and his relationship with his co-anchors. He said that he felt the Mets were going to be a better team this year and the fans would see that improvement.
My thoughts on Ed Kranepool: I couldn’t really hear him too well in the outer room but once he finished speaking I headed to the autograph table. I stood in line and had a very good conversation with two fans around my age. One of the fans, a tall gentleman, was very knowledgeable and we spoke at length about Gil Hodges (he still remembers where he was when he got the news that he had passed away) and Wally Backman (he said, go to YouTube and check out how much of a “hot head” he is). He said that he hadn’t given up hope on the Wilpon ownership yet. He also noted that not too many fans remember, but Kranepool was quite a basketball player in his day, and during the off-season, he and other major-leaguers would go around the metro area, playing exhibition matches against teachers, faculty, etc. When I got up to the autograph table, I asked him how his restaurant, the Dugout was doing (if anyone remembers that was the restaurant he owned with co-Met Ron Swoboda; it was in Massapequa right on the border of Amityville). He looked at me and said, he sold it. Then he took a deep breath and said, “…about 40 years ago!”.
I heard Art Shamsky was there but I didn’t never saw him.
Sounds like a great day! I hope it becomes an annual event.
Wish I knew you were there, would have loved the chance to say hi. Nice recap, Charlie.