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I always look forward to Marty Noble's training camp naming story. Here it is:
[url]http://newyork.mets.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20090401&content_id=4101368&vkey=news_nym&fext=.jsp&c_id=nym[/url]
| ]Mets closing up in 'Port St. Laboratory'
Experiments mark club's 22nd year training in Florida city
By Marty Noble / MLB.com
PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla. -- Here, on the quiet coast of Florida, the Mets nearly have completed their 22nd camp in this sprawling burg and done so without muss, fuss or hip surgery. Aside from a few days of hysteria in February, prompted by Johan Santana's elbow, this camp has been ever so tranquil. Camp Flat Line was without some of its most prominent participants because of the World Baseball Classic, and those who remained rarely raised their voices or an eyebrow.
All of which makes this exercise rather challenging. For 21 years, some characteristic of or development in the weeks spent here in the postal code of 34986 has inspired a nickname for the camp -- from Port St. Lonesome to Port St. Ligament to Port Santana Lucie.
At first blush, this one ought to be Port St. Lull. But an effort to do better will be made. First a review is offered:
Port St. Lonesome was unavoidable the first year, 1988, unless you spoke the language of armadillos. Port St. Leisure fit in 1989 because manager Davey Johnson advocated time at the golf course. When the club owners didn't open the gates until mid-March, Port St. Lockout became the name for 1990. Those were easy.
Buddy Harrelson's lone camp as manager was touched with indecision about infield personnel in '91; thus Port St. Limbo.
Thrown bleach, firecrackers, a manager dismissed and 103 losses made for a dreadful 1993 season. Camp was renamed retroactively: Port St. Lucifer. Port St. Lengthy happened in '94 when Dallas Green brought his work ethic to Spring Training. And who can forget the spring of '95 with Bubba Wagnon, Alex Coughlin and all the Replace-Mets? For weeks, the real players were in Port St. Elsewhere.
Bill Pulsipher's elbow injury on March 18 set the tone for a season of injury and disappointment in '96. Camp became Port St. Ligament. More of the same in '97; Port St. Lamely became appropriate when Derek Wallace and Jay Payton required March surgeries.
The Mets joined hands with Japanese pitcher Masato Yoshii in '98. The Japanese word for "union," as in a coming together, is pronounced l'rengo. Therefore: Port St. L'rengo.
The following year, Rickey Henderson and Tom Seaver were in camp, so Port St. Legend seemed fitting. But the upgraded roster and the money committed to accomplish the upgrade demanded recognition. Thus, Port St. Lavish.
The spring of 2000 saw 11 left-handed pitchers in camp, it could have been Port St. Lefty, but Portside Lucie seemed better. After a pennant, a Subway Series and an offseason of mostly unsuccessful pursuits, Port St. Letdown was a possibility in 2001. There were 101 logos on the walls of the refurbished clubhouse. Port St. Logo? But no.
The Mets had Desi Relaford in camp, and in the preceding six years, they had had 5-foot-6 Ricky Otero and Ricardo Jordan. That was a Desi, a Little Ricky and a Ricardo. And -- honest -- Jordan had a sister named Lucy. So we invited Fred and Ethel upstairs, sang a verse of "Meet the Mertz" and called it Port St. (I Love) Lucy. What else?
General manager Steve Phillips brought in new blood in 2002 -- Mo Vaughn and Roberto Alomar. Alas it proved to be tired blood. In retrospect, Port St. Lethargic.
In 2003, Art Howe inherited a weak cast, which seemed to lose whatever strength it did have. The Mets went on to endure a second straight last-place finish. It all began in Port St. Lemon. The following year wasn't much better. The Mike Piazza-to-first base idea didn't work, Howe was eventually discarded and Jim Duquette subordinated. But spring 2004 brought the first stages of renaissance with the promotion of David Wright and the further development of Jose Reyes and Aaron Heilman. Hence, Port St. Larva.
The acquisitions of Pedro Martinez and Carlos Beltran brought more diversity to the clubhouse in 2005 and prompted a book -- "Pedro, Carlos and Omar" -- released the following spring, about the Hispanic influences. It was Port St. Latino.
The overriding storyline in 2006 was Martinez's toe and all the ripples it caused. So acknowledging that poetic license was at work -- because athlete's foot was not the issue -- we named the camp Port St. Lamisil.
Given what happened in October 2006 and where the Mets played on Opening Night last year could have made 2007 Port St. Louis. But that isn't the story of the camp. At one point in the spring, all big league camps totaled 22 players 40 years or older. Six of the 22, including one diagnosed with arthritis, were in the Mets camp.
Latterly, an adverb, applied to matters in later part of life or later part of a period. So Port St. Latterly it was.
Injuries were many in Spring Training last year, so a return to Port St. Lamely was considered. But repeats are frowned on. And besides, the reporters' code in Spring Training is never to ignore the obvious story. So there was no choice but to adopt the name Port Santana Lucie.
Now, the challenge. The L words no longer seem as abundant as they once did. Camp has been long and often lethargic. And 13 players in the big league camp took a Classic sabbatical and were in Port St. Elsewhere. But there were other new distinctions. Theresa Corderi and her parents made the mid-day meal in the clubhouse and pressroom delicious. Port St. Lunch? Louie Castillo has had a pretty good exhibition season. Port St. Louie? Nah. Appropriate, but weak.
Since the first days of camp and right through Sunday when Jerry Manuel presented rookie Dillon Gee as an 11th-hour rotation possibility, the camp has been about trying new things -- new drills, new lineups, new positions. Most of it won't be implemented. But Manuel's experiment did prompt some head-scratching. So now that camp is closing, turn off the Bunson Burner and call it Port St. Laboratory. |
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