Today we ponder the question: If a walk-off occurs and no one is there to see it, does it really happen? That's kind of how I felt watching the ninth inning of Thursday's loss to the Marlins, in a game in which the attendance wasn't announced because it wouldn't jive with the reality of the paltry crowd at Shea Stadium. In the original Summer of False Hope that was 1980, the crowds dwindled significantly at the conclusion of the season. The finish to the campaign was miserable and heading into the final series against Pittsburgh, the Flushing 9 had won just 8 of their last 43 games. This was in the day in which crowds were counted by turnstile clicks rather than tickets sold, so the tally was only 1,787 on September 29, an all-time Shea Stadium low that stood until the next day when 1,754 made it through the gates. Particularly poor weather, the kind more typical than that seen at Shea Stadium this September, didn't help matters much. Anyhow, there was still basebal
A blog devoted to cataloguing New York Mets walk-offs and other trivia. For those unaware of the definition of walk-off just replace the term with the words "game-ending" and you should have a much better understanding of the phrase.