Book Review: After the Miracle

After the Miracle: The Lasting Brotherhood of the '69 Mets, by Art Shamsky

These were the good Mets. Unlike the bad boys of the 1986 Championship team, the '69 Mets were beloved across the country. 

They were young. They were happy. They played with joy and excitement and persistence. They were noble in defeat and celebrated in victory. At a time of political division -- over a war, over the direction of the country's youth -- a team from New York City was the epitome of togetherness.

That's because, says author and team member Art Shamsky, they were teammates who loved and respected each other. Each player accepted his role, and no matter how big or how small that part may have been, was appreciated for carrying it out with aplomb. Shamsky, for instance, may not have liked the fact that he platooned in right field with Ron Swoboda, but both reveled in each other's play.

Shamsky credits several people for this, including manager Gil Hodges, who believed in the team before it believed in itself, and then led them to the top with love and discipline; and pitcher Tom Seaver, who despite his superstar status, performed his role with humility and dignity.

Harrelson, Koosman, Sherman, Shamsky,
 Swoboda, and Seaver at a restaurant during the visit.
(Photo, from the book)

The book, while a celebration of the team and its youthful exuberance, carries notes of sadness 50 years later. Several team members have died, and two of its stalwarts --  Seaver and shortstop Bud Harrelson -- have signs of degenerative brain function -- Seaver from Lyme disease, and Harrelson from Alzheimer's.

Shamsky begins the book with his plan to bring a small group of former players out to celebrate with Seaver in his Napa Valley home in Calistoga, Calif.,, where Seaver owns a winery. He invites Harrelson, Seaver's former roommate; Jerry Koosman, the lefty counterpart to Seaver; and Swoboda, whose legendary catch saved Seaver's victory in Game 4. Shamsky's co-author, journalist Erik Sherman, went along.

Once the planning of the trip is set -- although Seaver's wife, Nancy, cautions that Seaver's health might force a last-minute cancellation -- Shamsky reverts to the 1969 season, going over games and memories from spring training to the last out of the season, and the ensuing on- and off-field celebrations. The remembrances are highlighted with interviews, stories, and quotes from former players and fans, adding color and grit to the memories.

After that pleasant reflection, Shamsky returns to the trip to Seaver's house. It's another happy occasion, with the conservative Koosman and the liberal Swoboda indulging in some banter about politics, and the group of five recalling their glory days. But it's a sad meeting as well, with the former teammates knowing their days are ending. The melancholy continues as Shamsky explores  how diseases have ravaged the minds of Harrelson and Seaver, causing the former ace to show a flaw in remembering the day's events while eating at a local restaurant.

Without a hint of frustration, the ever-courageous and self-assured Seaver shrugged and told (us) once more, "You know, I've got a little bit of the Lyme disease going on." He then graciously picked up the check, gave his regard to all of the people he knew at the cafe like he was the mayor of Calistoga, and walked us back out to the parking lot -- where the conversations continued on and on. We knew we would never all be together like this again. We were in our seventies, scattered around the country, and Tom could no longer travel.

It was the lengthiest of good-byes. Nobody wanted to leave.

You may shed a tear at the end. But overall, it's a book about days of happiness and youth, and the brotherhood of teammates.