LISTEN UP! Tom Seaver’s greatest went beyond what he did on the field to his mannerisms and attitude in the clubhouse, which leaves a lot left for young phenom Matt Harvey (inset) to accomplish before comparisons are fair. (AP; Neil Miller (inset))
The comparisons, mostly, are obvious ones, but they are the most unfair ones. Mets fans are giddy about Matt Harvey, and they have a right to be, because so much else about the state of the franchise is the opposite of giddy.
He is a hard-throwing right-hander who uses his legs to generate his power, who strikes out the world, and who has a poise and confidence on the mound that belies his age. And so the natural step is Tom Seaver, the best player to ever wear a Mets uniform, one of the best pitchers ever born.
And, yes: There is nothing wrong with going there. But it probably is worth pointing out that Seaver won 311 games as a major leaguer, that he struck out 3,640 hitters, that he won three Cy Young Awards, that he had a lifetime ERA of 2.82, that he once had an ERA as low as 1.76 for a full year (a year he didn’t win the Cy Young), that he once had as many as 289 strikeouts in a year, that he threw 250-plus innings in each of his first 13 seasons.
Whatever Harvey will do, it’s all ahead of him, undone. What Seaver has done he has done. Big difference.
But there is a part of Seaver that Harvey seems to emulate that isn’t only fair, it may well be every bit as important as whatever he will accomplish with his right arm. It is impossible to undersell the attitude Harvey has brought with him to the big leagues, the accountability, the unyielding belief that no matter how good today’s start was, next week’s should be even better.
And though he hasn’t yet vocalized this part, that goes for the team, too.
Look, the version of the Mets that Harvey joined isn’t quite the band of slapstick artists Seaver joined in 1967. For one thing, Mets fans of the ’60s came to expect horrid baseball as part of the plan, mostly because they didn’t know any better. For another, those Mets never had tasted even an ounce of success.
Yet right from the beginning, Seaver never bought into the notion of the Mets as lovable losers. In fact, that very concept boiled his blood, even as a rookie. And he said so. But never was the unspoken something that Seaver brought to the Mets more in evidence than on the evening of May 21, 1969. The Mets had started the season slowly (though by their own standards, it could be labeled “par”).
But that night, Seaver threw a three-hitter vs. the Braves in Atlanta, the Mets won the game 5-0, and not only did Seaver improve to 6-2 but the Mets improved to 18-18. That was the first time in their seven-year history they ever had been at .500 that late in the season. The writers who covered that team have for years spoken about how they all but sprinted to the clubhouse, eager to glorify the Mets’ emergence, eager to extol the high-water mark.
What they encountered instead was sobering: a deadly serious clubhouse, players eating their food quietly, no celebrations, hardly any laughter. The writers surrounded Seaver.
“What’s so good about .500?” Seaver said. “That’s only mediocre. We didn’t come into this season to play .500. Let Rod Kanehl and Marvelous Marv laugh about the Mets. We’re out here to win. You know when we’ll have champagne? When we win the pennant.”
The fact the Mets would do exactly that four months later, really, was beside the point. Seaver had sent a message: If you’re looking for a joke, look elsewhere. It was a message his teammates embraced. Harvey may be some time away from saying something like that on behalf of his team, but his actions and his self-analysis already speak volumes.
Just like Seaver’s did, back in the day.
Whack Back at Vac
Harold Theurer: Some auction house is selling a “game-used, corked bat owned by Mickey Mantle.” Mantle needed a corked bat? I guess they’ll also be selling a “concert worn, padded bra owned by Dolly Parton.”
Vac: Hey, we were all thinking it. Someone had to say it.
J.P. Zaptin: I am a Molloy and St. John’s grad, and not an Orange fan, but your column Thursday really nails all that is Melo, from an observer’s perspective. If he just plays well, the Knicks can go deep.
Vac: And if he plays better than well …
@JimNewton8: Any word if the Heat will ban that midlife crisis tough guy and his lady friend flipping the bird?
@MikeVacc: I’m just impressed we’ve finally found folks who actually care enough about the Heat to get that mad.
Rich Glanzer: Regardless of his lack of QB talent, it’s pretty sad that we live in a world where Tim Tebow will have a hard time finding a backup or third string roll because of the “distractions” he brings. But if he beat his wife, covered up a murder, did drugs, had a few felony arrests this wouldn’t be a problem for many teams.
Vac: Yep.
Vac’s Whacks
For all the hosannas thrown the way of the Golden State Warriors, they really do have the same formula as the Knicks: When their two big guns (Steph Curry, Klay Thompson) are hitting, they win. When they aren’t? They look just as sluggish as the Knicks when Carmelo Anthony and J.R. Smith are misfiring.
* Remember how terrific Joe Girardi was with the bargain-basement Marlins in 2006? Essentially he has had the same effect on the 2013 Yankees, only his bargains are significantly better across the board.
* Put it this way: I’m pretty sure Vernon Wells is a better third baseman than Angel Hernandez is an umpire.
* Until he has a legitimate sidekick, looks like this is the best we can do for the Mets: “Harvey and rain and three days of pain.”