Top 5 Reasons You Can't Blame the Mets for Trading Tom Seaver

June 15, 1977: The Yankees trade Mike Fischlin, Randy Niemann and a player to be named later (who, after the season, turns out to be Dave Bergman) to the Houston Astros for Cliff Johnson.

This is easily the best trade made by a New York baseball team on the day, as Johnson becomes Thurman Munson's backup catcher and a key righthanded bat off the bench for the Yankee teams that win the 1977 and '78 World Series. But it is not the trade that anyone ends up talking about that week.

In June 1977, the Mets were, for the moment, still the most popular team in New York City, riding their rather incomplete successes of the 1969 World Series win and the 1973 National League Pennant (but losing the World Series). They remained the most popular team despite not really following up, and despite the Yankees having won the 1976 American League Pennant.

M. Donald Grant was a friend of Joan Payson, the founding owner of the Mets. She hired him to be the team's 1st chairman of the board. After the 1969 season, the Mets owned New York, even more than the Jets did. After the 1973 season, when they'd won another Pennant, they were so far ahead of the Yankees it wasn't funny -- though you can be sure Met fans were cackling with glee.

The Mets, or rather Grant, frittered away so much of that goodwill, to the point where a few Met fans -- not many, but a few, including a Brooklyn-born-and-raised college student and aspiring filmmaker, Shelton "Spike" Lee -- switched to the Yankees after they returned to the top, a rise coinciding with the Mets' collapse.

In 1970, shortly after the World Series win, Johnny Murphy, the former Yankee reliever who was the Mets' general manager, died. Their player development director expected to be promoted into the job, but Grant wouldn't do it, because he knew the guy wouldn't let him tell him what to do.

When manager Gil Hodges died in 1972, Grant passed the guy over for that job as well, giving it to coach Yogi Berra -- who, to be fair, had won a Pennant as manager of the Yankees in 1964, and would do so for the Mets in 1973.

The passed-over guy had enough: He went to the Kansas City Royals, and built a winner there, before crossing Missouri and doing the same thing with the St. Louis Cardinals, causing problems first for the Yankees in the 1970s and then for the Mets in the 1980s. He was Dorrel Norman Elvert "Whitey" Herzog.

Grant hired Bob Scheffing to be the GM, and he did as he was told -- including trading away Nolan Ryan in 1971, allowing Ryan to become one of the best pitchers of his generation. On Grant's orders, Scheffing traded away Tommie Agee after the 1972 season, and Tug McGraw after 1974. In 1975, Grant fired Scheffing, and replaced him with Joe McDonald, who traded away Cleon Jones and Rusty Staub after that season.

Then Mrs. Payson died. Her daughter, Lorinda de Roulet, inherited the team, and she knew that she knew nothing about baseball, so she trusted Grant even more than her mother did. After the 1976 season, in which the Mets finished 15 games out of 1st place, but were nonetheless 86-76 for a very respectable 3rd, Grant/McDonald traded away Jerry Grote. Hardly anybody from the '73, let alone '69, Pennant winners was left.

But there was still Tom Seaver, the greatest player the Met franchise had ever known. (And he still is). Along with Steve Carlton of the Philadelphia Phillies and Don Sutton of the Los Angeles Dodgers, he was still 1 of the 3 best pitchers in the NL; along with Ryan of the California Angels, Jim Palmer of the Baltimore Orioles,and Jim "Catfish" Hunter of the Yankees, 1 of the top 6 in the majors. But he was also expensive: Going into the 1977 season, he was in the middle of a 3-year contract worth $675,000, or $225,000 a year.

Like most MLB team owners were cheap back then, M. Donald Grant -- he really hated it when people referred to him that way -- was cheap. Not because the Mets weren't making money. And even if they weren't, it wasn't his money: Mrs. de Roulet was a de Roulet by marriage, and both a Payson and a Whitney by blood. She was richer than George Steinbrenner. She could afford to spend whatever she wanted.

But she trusted Grant, and he thought baseball players were beneath him. He had what Marvin Miller, director of the players' union, called "a plantation mentality." When Seaver, who lived in Stamford, Connecticut during the season (and his native Fresno, California in the off-season), joined the nearby Greenwich Country Club, Grant was furious: "Who do you think you are, joining the Greenwich Country Club?"

M. Donald Grant wasn't so much dumb as he was out of touch. How out of touch was he? I once saw a Met-themed blog whose author wrote that Grant tried to explain what he was doing with Seaver in terms of "bluffing and playing tricks in a hand of bridge." How many average baseball fans know how to play the card game bridge, a.k.a. contract bridge? I consider myself a fairly smart person. I can play poker and gin rummy. I've never even seen bridge being played. It's usually considered a rich person's game. Well, M. Donald Grant was a rich person.

Seaver thought that, even at $225,000 a year, he was underpaid. He knew that, across town, Catfish was making $640,000; as the 1st free agent of the modern era, his salary was well-publicized. Also well-publicized was the $230,000 that the Cleveland Indians were paying free agent pitcher Wayne Garland, whose career would be cut short by that season's injury.

Seaver may not have known that Steve Carlton of the Philadelphia Phillies was making less than he was, $160,000. Or that Jim Palmer of the Baltimore Orioles was making more than he was: $250,000. Or that Don Sutton of the Los Angeles Dodgers was also making $250,000. (Dodger owner Walter O'Malley often reluctantly paid stars big, but average players very little.)

Noting 2 other pitchers whose names will shortly come up: He may not have known that Luis Tiant of the Boston Red Sox was making $185,000, or that Nolan Ryan's California Angels teammate Frank Tanana was making $225,000.

But he did know that his teammate, Jerry Koosman, who had, in 1976, become the 2nd Met, after Seaver, to win 20 games in a season was making $150,000. And he knew that Ryan was making $200,000. And how did he know this? Because their wives, Nancy Seaver and Ruth Ryan, remained close friends after Nolan was traded. Women talk.

Seaver thought he was underpaid. Given that he was the Mets' biggest drawing card, he was right: In the 8 home games that he started, the Mets got an average per-game attendance of 23,257; the 17 home games he didn't start, they averaged 11,913, about half as much.

Seaver wanted to remain a Met for the rest of his career, but wanted more money and over a longer period of time, guaranteed. He decided to go over Grant's head, and asked Mrs. de Roulet for a contract extension. She agreed to it. No problem, right?

Wrong: Grant acted as though he was the true owner of the Mets, and took this as a grave personal insult. (Well, maybe it was, but he deserved it.) Apparently, he was okay for him to call a wartime U.S. Marine veteran who was the greatest player his team had ever had "a Communist," but it wasn't okay for said player to go over his head to his boss. (He probably also didn't like that his boss was a woman. After all, unlike Mrs. Payson, Mrs. de Roulet was not an old friend. He probably thought of her as "the kid.")

Grant went to Dick Young, longtime baseball columnist for the Daily News. Once a liberal crusader who stood up for Jackie Robinson, Young was now 59 years old. Years of hard drinking had lined his face and turned his hair stark white. He had become embittered and conservative, as he saw what he called "my America" fading away. He was tight with Grant, who asked him to write a column smearing Seaver. Young didn't need much convincing. He probably traded it for a drink. He was probably happy to do it.

In the column, Young called Seaver "very greedy," and "jealous of those who had the guts to play out their option or used the threat of playing it out as leverage for a big raise." Young also lied about the various salaries. And he brought Seaver's wife into the discussion. And Ryan's wife, too.

Young wrote over Seaver, "He talks of being treated like a man. A man lives up to his contract." A man may disagree with another man, but a man does not bring the other man's family into it. That is a line that a man does not cross. Ever. You got a problem with someone? Fine. But leave the family out of it. By playing Major League Baseball, Tom Seaver had made himself a public figure. Nancy Seaver was not a public figure until Dick Young made her one, and for what? Selling a few newspapers, and doing his pal M. Donald Grant a big fat favor.

"That Young column was the straw that broke the back," Seaver told the Daily News in 2007, on the 30th Anniversary. "Bringing your family into it, with no truth whatsoever to what he wrote. I could not abide by that. I had to go."

Sometimes, you get to a point where no other circumstance matters, and you can no longer work for your boss. The well had been poisoned -- by Grant and Young, not by Seaver.

According to the Young column, Grant had told Seaver that the Cincinnati Reds had made the best trade offer for him. Seaver took Grant at his word one last time, and accepted a trade to Cincinnati. In exchange for the legend, 32 years old but still one of the game's top pitchers, the Mets got:

* Steve Henderson, 24, stuck behind George Foster in Cincinnati.

* Doug Flynn, 26, stuck behind Joe Morgan in Cincinnati.

* Pat Zachry, 25, a pitcher who had finished in a 1st place tie in the vote for the previous year's NL Rookie of the Year, with pitcher Butch Metzger of the San Diego Padres -- but, stricken by injury, would himself be traded to the Mets in 1978, ending his career with them that season. 

* And Dan Norman, 22, a right fielder who made his major league debut that September, and never amounted to much; essentially, a throw-in, to make it look like the Mets had actually gotten 4 serviceable major leaguers for Seaver.

And yet, by Opening Day 1981, Henderson and Norman would be gone; by Opening Day 1982, so would Flynn; by Opening Day 1983, so would Zachry. By the time Seaver pitched his last major league game, Henderson was the only 1 of the 4 still playing in the majors.

True, the Mets didn't exactly get nothing for Seaver. That would happen when, after the new regime brought him back in 1983, a clerical mistake caused them to lose him as a free-agent compensation pick to the Chicago White Sox after the season. They got some value for him in 1977.

They still didn't get as much value for Seaver as Seaver gave the Reds from June 18, 1977 to August 15, 1982 (a season cut short by injury), including 2 more All-Star seasons in 1978 and 1981, pitching the only no-hitter of his career in 1978, leading the NL in shutouts and getting them to its Championship Series in 1979, leading it in wins and winning percentage in 1981, nearly winning a 4th Cy Young Award that year, and, also that year, notching his 3,000th career strikeout, against the St. Louis Cardinals, the victim being future Met legend Keith Hernandez.

And it wasn't the only Met trade of the night: They also sent Dave Kingman, the surly slugger who would go on to hit 442 home runs but, strikeout-prone, would have a lifetime batting average of .236, to the Padres. What did they get from San Diego for "Kong"? Paul Siebert, a nothing pitcher who would throw his last major league pitch for the Mets in 1978, only 25. And a once-greatly-heralded prospect, now a 27-year-old banged-up utility player who could no longer hit, and would play his last major league game just 2 years later. He would, however, later write his name into Met history. His name was Bobby Valentine.

Interestingly, when the Mets got Kingman back in 1981, from the Chicago Cubs, where he'd thrived, the player they sent to get him was Steve Henderson.

With Watergate and its "Saturday Night Massacre" -- which happened mere hours after Seaver was the losing pitcher when the Mets lost Game 6 of the 1973 World Series -- still fresh in the memory, and the Yankees having made a trade in 1974 that was known as "the Friday Night Massacre," these 2 Met trades became known as "the Midnight Massacre."

The effect on attendance was staggering. The following Saturday, June 18, was Banner Day, and the Mets drew 52,784, nearly a sellout. On August 21, not just a Sunday but also Seaver's 1st game back with the Reds, the Mets drew 46,265. Minus those 2 games, their average attendance from June 16 to September 23, 1977 (their last home date of the season) was 13,243 -- only a little more than they were getting without Seaver before the trade, and 10,000 per game less than they got when he pitched.

Aside from the Dodgers and Giants getting moved out of town, this is the most hated transaction in the history of New York sports. Surely, it can't be justified.

Well, maybe not justified. But it can be understood:

5. Pat Zachry. He was a good pitcher. He would be an All-Star in 1978, going 10-6 for a bad Met team. He went 46-47 for the Mets, 69-67 for his career.