Once Upon a Time in Queens

To really understand the fairy tale that was the 1986 Mets, you have to go back – back before Mookie dribbled that ground ball towards first base, and way before the club put together one of the most dominating seasons in baseball history that would end in such unbelievable, unforgettable fashion. You have to go back nearly a decade, to the infamous blackout of the summer of 1977 – rock bottom for the city of New York, and the ballclub that played in Queens. The Mets were 15 years into their history then; they’d begun as lovable losers, then rode a miracle team to a 1969 title, and then became a laughingstock hard to watch. And the club’s almost unwatchable play in the late 70s mirrored the sorry state of New York City – tired, bankrupt, crime-ridden. Until things started to turnaround. The 1980s was the decade of New York – with a financial boom propelling the rebirth of a city defined by excitement, unpredictability, and edge. And soon the Mets followed suit. New ownership brought in general manager Frank Cashen, who began building a contender that was a mix of promising young stars like Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden, and veteran All-Stars like Keith Hernandez and Gary Carter. Around them was a wide range of complex personalities and characters, and by 1984, led by the swashbuckling manager Davey Johnson, out of nowhere the Mets became a contender once again – a brash collection of talent that looked poised to rise to the very top of the sport when they came up just short of a division title in 1985. In a city that had roared to life, the Mets seemed just a spark away from igniting into the best story in sports.

As spring training in 1986 began, Mets manager Davey Johnson predicted to reporters that his team was going to dominate the National League. To this day, Johnson shrugs when asked about his brashness. All he was doing was telling the truth. In ’86, the Mets made a few key additions to the team that had won 98 games in 1985, and the Mets began the season so confident in their prospects that they recorded a forgettable rap single, “Get Metsmerized,” to capitalize on the excitement surrounding their prospects. After an early stumble in the season’s first week, the Mets took flight. They won 44 of their first 60 games, capturing the imagination of a city that was intoxicated with indulgence – hypnotized by the allure of money, fame, and drugs. And while just about every member of the club, from the often moody, fantastically talented Darryl Strawberry to the smooth but complicated Keith Hernandez, enjoyed the trappings of celebrity and being the most famous stars in the greatest city of the world, nobody epitomized the team’s slippery line between success and excess more than Dwight Gooden. Still just 21 years old, Gooden was coming off one of the greatest pitching seasons of all time. Overwhelmed by the fame and expectations, he was one of the Mets who turned to cocaine, though seemingly one of the few whose performance was impacted by his partying. Propelled by a blend of talent, good luck, baseball magic – and no small amount by the sport’s wonder drug of choice in the era, amphetamines – the Mets dominated the first half just as their manager said they would. And beyond that, their swagger infuriated opponents, leading to four bench-clearing brawls over the course of the season. It all only made New York love them more. By midsummer, the city was on a high, and the Mets were carrying them through it, night after night after night.

The 1986 Mets won 108 regular-season games. But their fairy tale came with no shortage of rough edges, in a city that still had a sense of darkness and danger to it. When the sun went down, it felt like anything could happen in New York, and on September 17th, when the Mets clinched the division title, Shea Stadium was pillaged, as thousands of fans stormed the field, ripping up massive chunks of turf in the bedlam. Of course, the players’ long, wild party afterwards only matched the madness. In the National League Championship Series, they faced off against the Houston Astros, a tough matchup thanks to their unhittable ace Mike Scott, a former Met whose split-finger fastball confounded the New York lineup. Scott beat the Mets 1-0 in Game 1, before the Mets evened things in Game 2, and then prevailed in a dramatic Game 3 on a Lenny Dykstra two-run homer in the bottom of the ninth. After Scott dominated the Mets again in Game 4, Game 5 was another classic, with the Mets winning in 12 innings to take a 3-2 series lead. So it went back to Houston, with Game 6 feeling like a must-win for the Mets with Scott looming again for a potential Game 7. What ensued was one of the great postseason games of all time. The Mets rallied with three runs in the ninth to send it to extra innings, and on and on the afternoon game went into the early evening, with the city of New York mesmerized by every pitch. Finally, in the 16th inning, the Mets scored three to seemingly pull ahead for good, only to have Houston get two back. At last, with the tying run on second, Jesse Orosco struck out Kevin Bass on three straight sliders to clinch the pennant for the Mets. Thirty-five years later, the infamous legend of the raucous celebration on the plane ride home endures. And while they can laugh about it now, there’s also another reality: The hangover followed the Mets into the World Series, and they dropped the first two games listlessly to the Red Sox, putting them seemingly on the brink of brutal disappointment after such an incredible season.

The Mets went to Boston for Game 3 of the 1986 World Series with their backs firmly against the wall after their lackluster play in New York. Manager Davey Johnson’s response: give his players a day off. The bold move paid off when the team broke out of a slump to win two straight. Alas, a Game 5 loss put the Mets heading back to New York the same way they’d left it: their backs to the wall. Game 6 of the 1986 World Series was an electric night from the start – with a parachutist carrying a “Let’s Go Mets” banner landing on the field in the first inning. Just another New York moment. Still, soon after, the Mets found themselves trailing again, and they had to come back twice to send the game into extra innings. But in the top of the tenth, the Sox went ahead again with two runs. Boston was up 5-3, three outs from a World Series championship. What happened next will live in baseball lore forever. With two outs and nobody on, and the scoreboard even mistakenly flashing a congratulatory message to the Red Sox, it was all but over. Until Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell, and Ray Knight all singled—and then Mookie Wilson fouled off pitch after pitch after pitch, until a wild pitch scored Mitchell from third and tied the game. A few more foul balls later, Mookie dribbled a ball up the first-base line, and it went right through Bill Buckner’s legs. Impossibly, unbelievably, the Mets had won, and they were still alive. Two nights later, Game 7 was another epic battle, with the Mets once again coming from behind to win the game late. The Mets were the World Series champions. New York was on top of the baseball world. The next day, a ticker-tape parade brought an estimated 2.2 million people to the Canyon of Heroes. It was a wild celebration. Dwight Gooden watched it from a drug house, too high to make it. Even as the Mets seemed poised to start a dynasty, management immediately began breaking up the team, uncomfortable with the mixture of volatility – unable to reckon with the idea that it was the team’s chemistry that made them so resilient, and so unbeatable. The franchise hasn’t won a World Series title since.