I am sad about Dwight Gooden

I was there from the beginning.  One of my oldest friends reminds me that we attended Dwight Gooden’s first home start.  Those were the days before he was Dr.K or this “Doc” Gooden who had demons and wasn’t as good as the teenager we first met.

If you weren’t there for the late 80’s, maybe you’re just too young, you won’t quite understand what he meant and how good he was.

It was 1984.  Seaver was gone for the second time.  The Mets were always awful and now Seaver was gone so they would probably be awful again.

That summer we went for a magical ride and hunted the Cubs (why of all teams did the stupid Cubs have to be good that year?) all the way to September.  I learned a curveball was called “uncle Charlie” and Tim McCarver taught me this particular curve ball should be called Lord Charles.   You have never seen a ball break as much as Gooden’s did.

You never heard Shea Stadium rock the way it would on a Friday when Gooden pitched, and if Santana takes a no-hitter against the Yankees into the 9th inning of Game 7 of the World Series, it still won’t match the noise or electricity.

1985 came.  Maybe this team could go all the way.   Gooden had the best year I’ve ever seen a pitcher have.   He was 20 and would have 40 wins already.  Clearly on his way to the Hall of Fame.  We had another young superstar named Strawberry, also clearly on his way to the Hall of Fame and 500 home runs when 500 home runs was something rare.

1985 didn’t quite work out, and you know what happened next.

It sure was odd that Dwight overslept and missed the tickertape parade but he was 21, with 60 wins and on his way to the Hall of Fame!  We had a second coming of the Franchise and this one would be around into the 21st century.

I’m not sure what I would have done at 19 with a few million in the bank and fame and fortune so I won’t judge.  Tonight I am sad.

Treat yourself to this article from the SI Archives:

Dwight Gooden, the Mets’ 19-year-old rookie righthander, was scheduled to pitch against Montreal last Friday night, and the excitement mounted all day in New York. Offices buzzed with talk of his strikeouts. Radio stations led their sports reports with his name. People stampeded the Shea Stadium ticket windows, swelling the crowd to 39,586. Then, as Gooden built up two-strike leads against Montreal batters, the fans went bananas, clapping, screaming, whistling and waving “K” signs.