More "Mets Yearbook" enthusiasm

Yes, Banner Day was quite the constant in these things, making one wonder why, for the umpteenth time, why the Mets abandoned what Dick Young (who, before turning evil, was quite a nifty conflict-of-interest script writer) called their “soul promotion” — and we’re not accepting “because there are no more scheduled doubleheaders” as an excuse. I can’t get enough of those placards. I can’t get enough of Old Timers Days and Helmet Days. I can’t get enough of Lindsey Nelson narrating. I can’t get enough of the incidental footage, like how the people filling the box seats looked so different from ‘63 to ‘68 and again from ‘68 to ‘71. I can’t get enough of the ballpark advertising, especially the outfield wall of the Polo Grounds where Hebrew National was, in 1963, introducing Delicious STUFFED CABBAGE IN JARS. I can’t get enough of watching the Mets at home in the Polo Grounds and marveling at Shea Stadium being built. I can’t get enough of the innocence and implicit honesty of these films, particularly 1963 when they made losing 111 games somehow sound like brand equity. None of the years above resulted in more than a second-place finish, yet I felt like a champ just for being a Mets fan listening to the Mets tell me how much I meant to them.

The stream of Met consciousness is unbelievable. Doesn’t matter if they’re focusing on Seaver and Stengel or Staiger and Stearns or Singleton and Schiraldi. It’s the Mets video family album. It’s about why we became Mets fans, whenever we became Mets fans, certainly if we hopped on board between 1962 and 1988, the years thatMets Yearbook will eventually cover in twenty-seven Amazin’ chapters.