...added for the sake of completeness while contemplating whether the Mets might, possibly, move to a two-and-a-half-man starting rotation for a few months.  1908 wasn't that long ago, right?

2B- Bill Doran

You know what’s weird? The Astros have had a lot of great players: Bagwell and Biggio, Scott and Ryan and J.R. Richard, Billy Wagner and Dave Smith, Jim Wynn and Staub, Cedeno and Morgan, Jose Cruz and Glenn Davis... but when I think of the Houston Astros, the first image that comes to my head isn’t any of those guys. The first image is probably Billy Doran, a random 80’s second baseman along the lines of Marty Barrett or Jim Gantner. Well, he was better than them by a notch: Doran could hit and field, stole over 200 bases, walked more than he struck out, and had decent power that was largely masked by the Astrodome. Still... he’s a heck of a player to be my mental faceman for an organization that’s been around for 40 years. I miss him, all the same.

SS- Jose Uribe

I'd really rather not remember the Kevin Elster years, and Howard Johnson was a shortstop in the same sense that I am a duck: Sure, I can paddle with my feet and I can quack if I set my mind to it, but the effect just isn't the same.

So I'll reach back into my memory for San Francisco's Jose Uribe, who is notable for two things: 1) being better than you probably remember he was, and 2) sticking in my mind everytime Juan Uribe's name comes up in conversation, which happens to me more often than is probably considered reasonable by polite society.

3B- Wade Boggs

Began a string of consecutive 200-hit seasons in the Neolithic Era, when sports executives began fashioning crude luxury boxes out of gopher wood and using a special mixture of Gatorade, freshly-squeezed sweat socks, and tobacco-laden spit to produce primative juiced baseballs.  This streak lasted until the dawn of the Pre-Bling! era, and for a while, had us debating which of Boggs, Tony Gwynn, and Kirby Puckett would have hit for a higher average while sedated and tied to a chair with rabid crocodiles snapping at their legs (Answer: Kirby, at around .304. The other two were better, but that li'l sucker could hit anywhere).

But what I really remember about Boggs is 1987, when he suddenly turned into Flying Karate Boggs with Ninja Death Action, popping 24 homers.  When I turned over his baseball card for the first time, I seriously thought that was a typo.  (Didn't you?)

'87 was a goofy year all around, of course, a sort of Preview of Coming Attractions for Coors Field.  Its he biggest effect wasn't on the McGwires and Dale Murphys of the league: The real difference was that players like Raines and Boggs, dangerous even in a deadball league, became nuclear weapons when armed with a hoppy 'hide. It was the closest thing our generation will see to the time when deadball sluggers like Zack Wheat and Shoeless Joe Jackson were thrust suddenly into the live ball era. If Wade Boggs is slugging in the .500's, you're going to have an offense even if Steve Scarsone-- or, heck, Stellen Skaarsgard-- hits cleanup.

RF- Darryl Strawberry

Strawberry earns a mention as my first favorite player, which I guess only puts me in league with about a million other kids who grew up following the Mets around this period.  We gave him a lot of guff about the strikeouts, but after all the man had a strike zone the size of the People's Republic of China.  There are two swings from my baseball-watching career that I can recall perfectly with my eyes closed: Mike Piazza's lumberjack cut and Darryl's long, sweeping left-handed stroke.

He really-- actually, I need capital letters and italics here-- really REALLY should have won the MVP in 1988 over Kirk Gibson (I mean, Orel Hershiser I could have understood, or Will Clark, but Gibson?!).  Yes, it has been almost 20 years now.  Yes, I am still bitter.

LF- Vince Coleman

Okay, I don't really miss Vince Coleman very much, but I miss the speed game he personified-- which may have been Sabermetrically unsound, but was lotsa fun to watch-- and, more importantly, I miss hating the Cardinals.

You have to understand what it was like for a Mets fan in the 80's.  Whitey Herzog's St. Louis team was-- I say this with all respect for a canny manager and without the slightest hint of hyperbole-- the ultimate source of all evil in the Universe.

Of course, I realize they-- and most of the National League-- felt precisely the same way about the Mets.  And that's why I miss it.

I should toss in an Obligatory Reliever, so I'll use LHP Jesse Orosco, who spent so many years as the perfect fusion of Ed Vande Berg and Yoda that you may have forgotten what a fine lefty closer he was, back in the Day.  Teams would do that back then-- sometimes you'd have a lefty closer and a righty closer, and they'd both get 20 saves instead of one guy getting 40.  Worked like a charm.  Of course, if you tried it today, the media would say you had a "Bullpen by Committee" and there would be much wailing and gnashing of teeth.  Baseball's more fun without gnashed teeth.

Next time, we'll talk basketball.  Unless I forget to care, in which case I'll ramble.  Trust me, you'll prefer it that way.  When I try to make a point, I'm just annoying.