I would sit in front of my black and white TV, where it snowed every day, even in a heat wave and by the second inning I was rooting for the other team. Then I decided to try to catch the LA Dodgers whenever I could and all I saw was the fading of the great players that once were.
Then news hit-a lawyer named: William Shea was bringing back National League Baseball to New York, this time in Queens, for the 1962 season! It was rumored that they would play over the rail yards that populated Queens. I couldn't figure out how that would happen, would they stop the game for the trains to pass, then pick it up like I used to do in Brooklyn when I played stick ball and a car passed?
Once everything was settled, I set out for the first game on TV, at of all the places, the Polo Grounds, home of the hated New York Giants with their Halloween colors of black and orange. To make matters worse, Joan Payson, a former part owner of the New York Giants was THE owner! Then on top of that, they hired the man I hung in effigy in 1955, when the Brooklyn Dodgers finally beat the New York Yankees in the World Series, Casey Stangel as the manager, and George Weiss as the GM, old Yankees!
More disappointment and hatred I had to learn to love.
Then the season started, and the Mets were born in my heart and soul. The uniforms were a little like the Dodgers, but with a twist, the addition of orange, Giant orange was added, and pin stripes, like the Yankee
When the broadcast started and Lindsey Nelson, Bob Murphy, and the Great Ralph Kiner, started to appear it made for the perfect love. Here were three guys who were selling a 40-120 team and making me love them. Once again, I had a National League team to root for.
I recall as I got older, the Saturday afternoon games, played in the day time in the early afternoon, and the crowds at sunny Shea, the new palace of baseball. With the background of the roar of thousands of Mets fans, the lead by Lindsey Nelson got me into the spirit, giving me the latest news as pertaining to my Mets, and as the game began, the exact cadence that went with great announcing, perfect tone and flawless reporting.
Then it was Mr. Kiner's turn after the Sunoco commercial ran and suddenly, you were transformed into a game and event in 1940, maybe at Forbs Field, or Ebbets Field or even the Polo Grounds. The stories usually were informative, a history lesson worth the time, as well as an occasional laugh. I would always pay particular attention to Kiner's stories.
Then they brought in the Murph, the first and the real Murph, the man who put excitement into the telling of my hero's failing on the field. "There's a HIGH fly ball, going, going and the second baseman makes the catch." I really thought his depth perception was suspect, but I loved him. Once the carnage was over on the field and he gave the "recap" and if by a wild chance the Mets won, the: "Happy recap" we went down to the studio to the king of nostalgia, Ralph Kiner and his guest, usually the player of the game, but sometimes an old buddy from another team who might be a coach and he would share the old times once again.
Today, we have the best announcers in baseball, but they were taught that to be a METS announcer, you needed to learn it from the original three, the BIG THREE, Nelson, Kiner and Murphy, the best that ever were.