I know this is going to sound crazy, but on Opening Day 1969 night, after I finally got to bed, after I finally fell asleep (sort of), I had an epic (in this case meaning "long") feverish dream in which I played out in my head every NY Mets game from beginning to end. Early in the season there were cool nights and lovely warm Sunday afternoon games, in the summer the heat came on and what we wouldn't give for a soda, and in the fall evenings came too quick, the night came on too fast, and we didn't care, because in my dream that night the always woeful NY Mets won every single game. Yes, they went 162 and oh!

In the morning I'm sure I had bags under my eyes ill-fitting a skinny 12 year old skipping off to school, happily knowing that 1968's 9th place finish was the first step toward his team's perfect season, which was I was certain a done deal because of a dream. It was with similar excitement that I joined a few months ago with some friends to play in Strat 69, my first online Strast-O-Matic league ever, and my first Strat season in 20 years. (Yes, from the information in this story you can figure out what year I last played Stratomatic.)

I will admit that in the draft I tried to load up on home town heroes, like Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman and Cleon Jones, but I wasn't stupid about it and when the lists were released I ended up instead with a pitching-rich squad and an uneven offense both built around Baltimore Orioles like Dave McNally and Jim Palmer, Don Buford and Boog Powell. Strategically, I selected Jarry Park, the most ominous of pitchers parks, to shut down opposing offenses, and I filled in with ace glove guys, like Clete Boyer and Ken Berry, to bury better hitters. Then the season started.

The first week was bad, the next week was worse, and I couldn't figure out what to do. I had good pitchers who weren't getting guys out. My hitters weren't great, but that was to be expected. It was Denny McLain and company's job to win this thing. Another week of misery and I decided to make a change. I dumped the woeful Dick Green, took the 20 percent salary hit, and added a NY Mets hero from years later, Davey Johnson. Immediately, my season turned around.

The Brklyn Krtzrs went on a tear, climbing from the outhouse to second place, where we stayed until the last two weeks of the season. Lawr has done a fine job looking at the four-way fight for the wild card in the season's closing days, a battle Ron Shandler's Ducks won (though he didn't win the Series). I can't say I'm bitter. Just a little embarrassed to have so many Orioles on my less than perfect team in my less than perfect season.

Wait 'til next year.