Is there anybody (me) out there?

Holy crap! Somebody's reading this? Thanks ... all three of you.

Drewster (who was kind enough to leave a comment) opined that Piazza should be retired long before Mex. I see his point, but he's wrong. By which I mean, of course, he's right. Thirty one will get retired long before 17, for a whole host of reasons.

Chief among them, I suspect, is wholesomeness. Piazza's story is significantly more feelgoody than Mex's, owing in large part to the whole "not doing a ton of coke so far as we know" thing. Fair enough.

The man is the greatest hitting catcher to ever play the game. No doubt about it. He's a first-ballot Hall of Famer without question, while Keith won't ever get in (though I believe a case could be made, I can see the point that he shouldn't).

But ....BUT ... when we're talking about number retirement, we're talking (I believe) about value to the specific team, and I would argue heartily that Keith was as valuable to his teams as Mike - possibly more.

I'm not generally one for the reductionist "but he got a ring!" argument. That being said ... Keith did.

Piazza's number should be retired. As should Koosman's, and probably Carter's. Doc & Straw should be seriously considered, as should Harelson, maybe Agee, and a couple of others.

But there should be no argument here.

It's really pretty simple.

Retire 17.

Can't you just see it?

Somebody had to do it.

If you're here, you probably already know the stats.

You know the .296 lifetime average, you know the 11 consecutive gold gloves.

And you probably already know the man.

You know the moustache, you've heard the stories, you seen the lollipops.

Chances are, you also know the New York Mets are notoriously stingy when it comes to honoring their history. You know it's been a tumultuous history, with it's share of crushing disapointment, and a few remarkable seasons of triumph.

And you know that one man, one Keith Hernandez, stands atop the greatest pinacle the franchise has achieved. The man's leadership, his bat, and his moustache drove the 1986 New York Mets to glory.

(No, I don't know how the moustache was directly involved, but I'm sure it was. If nothing else, it had a great view of the ride.)

Yes, there are other Mets whose numbers should adorn the Shea Stadium (and soon Citi Field) walls. But there is only one Keith Hernandez. No, Keith Hernandez was not and is not a perfect man. He is as flawed as the rest of us, at least. Yet he serves as a reminder of a what motley crew of sometimes distracted and definitely falible human beings can accomplish.

In many ways, we are all Keith Hernandez. We struggle, we fight, and we claw our way toward our goals day after day. Sometimes, we succeed. Sometimes we sell hair products. Sometimes we inspire a generation of Little League ballplayers. And sometimes we make callous remarks in the broadcast booth.

But sometimes, if we're lucky, we manage to find the best of ourselves, and bring out the best in those around us. Sometimes, we accomplish something greater than ourselves.

That is what this blog sets out to do. To, if nothing else, become a gathering place for those who believe, as I do, that the New York Mets owe Keith Hernandez more than the broadcasting job he so richly deserves.

We must make our voices heard. We will develop a manifesto. We will deveop and undertake strategies to make our voices heard in the Mets' executive offices. This quest may be quixotic ... in fact, it likely will. Nonetheless, we must speak.

Join me.

Retire 17.