This is the most compelling second-round matchup to date, both presenting Shea as Shea wishes to be seen. Shea of 1964, beckoning with possibility and informed by whimsy; Shea of 1991, an explosive good time awaits. Not pictured in a central way: any baseball.
1964 gives us Casey and his mischievous sidekick pulling out the rug from beneath the National League. Clear if wishful messaging. 1991 gives us five players who were important keys to 1990: Doc, Coney, Franco, McReynolds, Jefferies, Magadan. No Strawberry, not surprisingly, since Straw bolted town. No HoJo, since HoJo was rarely cast in a lead role (and did better in odd years). And no Viola, which is surprising, considering he just won 20 games and was returning. He's a swell guy all these years later, but I seem to recall Frankie V rubbing people the wrong way at his Met peak.
The cartoon Mets are integrated into the story. The real Mets are off to the side, a story unto themselves.
Dave Magadan made a yearbook cover. That's something to chew on.
Shea never quite looked like what was portrayed on the 1964 cover. Unless you left to beat traffic or purposely set up camp to make a photograph, you never saw Shea from that angle under the rockets' red glare. Both are illusions in their way.
It's a lot to think about, but honestly, I'm not going to vote against Willard Mullin here. 1991 is attractive and would have been more attractive without the vertical panel of players, but I love the window into brand new Shea's soul too much to cast it aside for fireworks.
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