It was a sad day last week for all baseball fans when we learned of the passing of the great Hall-of-Famer, Tom Seaver.

 In his outstanding tribute to Tom Seaver, Bill Gutman recalls many of the highlights from Tom's 20-year career in the majors. Bill also adds some of his own personal reflections about Tom Seaver from his days as a Sports Editor in Greenwich, Connecticut:

REMEMBERING TOM SEAVER

“In baseball, my theory is to strive for consistency, not to worry about the numbers. If you dwell on statistics you get shortsighted, if you aim for consistency, the numbers will be there at the end.” -Tom Seaver

The title of his essay is Remembering Tom Seaver. But to those who saw him pitch during a great pitching era, he's impossible to forget. They called him Tom Terrific as well as The Franchise, and both nicknames fit him to a tee. For George Thomas Seaver, the pitching mound was home, a place he loved to be. And each time he went out there he expected to win. He did that 311 times during his long career, which included three Cy Young Awards, 3,640 strikeouts (sixth-best all-time), 231 complete games, 61 shutouts (seventh all-time) and a fine career earned run average of 2.86. As he said so correctly in the above quote, if you aim for consistency the numbers will be there. In Tom Seaver's case, they sure were.

When Seaver died on August 31, at the age of 75, baseball not only lost one of its greatest players but a beloved figure known for his infectious laugh, exuberant personality, and intense competitiveness. And the fans in New York, especially Mets fans, lost one of their greatest heroes, the man who brought a winning attitude to a lowly expansion team and led them to one of the most improbable World Series triumphs ever in 1969.

From a personal standpoint, the same year Seaver joined the Mets as a 22-year-old rookie in 1967, I was a 24-year-old rookie reporter for a daily newspaper in Greenwich, Connecticut, and by the time the Mets made their surprising – no, almost shocking – run to the National League pennant two years later, I was the paper's Sports Editor. I met Tom Seaver a short time later at a press conference when he and his wife, Nancy, were promoting some products they had endorsed at a department store in Stamford, Connecticut. His death hit me kind of hard, not because I had a personal relationship with him, but because I was so close to his career and we were pretty much the same age. When I heard the news of his passing, it was as if a little piece of my youth had been taken away.

When Seaver joined the Mets in 1967, the team knew nothing but last place. In their first season of 1962, they lost a record 120 games and were still known mainly as lovable losers. But Seaver simply would not accept that label. In 2004, I wrote a book called Miracle Year that chronicled the 1969 championships of both the New York Jets and the Mets. I interviewed a number of Mets players and several recalled their first impressions of young Tom Seaver.

“When you saw Tom Seaver, right out of the box you saw a very good, complete major league pitcher,” outfielder Ron Swoboda recalled. “He didn't need time to assimilate, he arrived the complete package, a great pitcher from the day he showed up from the minors. Seaver was the golden boy, a kid who was in command of himself and the game from the get-go. You knew whenever Seaver was out there you could score three runs and have a chance to win.”

Shortstop Bud Harrelson echoed Swoboda's words. “From day one Tom showed he could pitch,” said Harrelson. “He was a lot like Johnny Bench, who came up the same year. Both of them took charge immediately. Tom was simply ahead of his time. He wasn't overly cocky, but despite his age, he sure knew how to pitch.”

While the Mets were still last in 1967 with a 61-101 record, Tom Seaver became the Rookie of the Years with a 16-13 record and a fine, 2.76 earned run average with 18 complete games. The next year, with the Mets finishing ninth at 73-89, Seaver was 16-12 with a 2.20 ERA and five shutouts. And he was joined by lefty Jerry Koosman, who went 19-12, giving the Mets a great 1-2 mound punch.

“I probably wasn't on the same level as Seaver then, but I felt a kinship with him,” Koosman told me. “I think Tom and I learned from each other. We were both power pitchers. He, of course, had the lead role and developed into the spokesman for the club, both on and off the field. Tom was always well spoken and handled the media very well.”

All this, of course, led to 1969 when the Mets won it all, taking the division title, beating the Braves in the first-ever divisional series, then topping the overwhelming favorite Baltimore Orioles in five games to win the World Series. Tom Seaver really arrived that year, going 25-7 and winning the first of his trio of Cy Young Awards. He would win again in 1973 and '75, and wind up a five-time 20-game winner. The Mets returned to the World Series in '73, but were beaten by the Oakland A's in seven games. After that, the team began to fade and things got dicey between Seaver and the front office.

It came to a head on June 15, 1977, a date known as the Midnight Massacre in Mets history. Without warning, the Franchise was traded to Cincinnati for four players, none of whom really panned out. Apparently Tom wasn't happy with his contract, considered undervalued in relation to his talent, and also was speaking out about the front office and its reluctance to spend on better players. So it was more a personal decision than a baseball one. There were tears at his final goodbye press conference and a tremendous backlash from the fans.

But it didn't deter his pitching. He was 7-3 when he left the Mets and then had a 14-3 record after joining the Reds, 21-6 for the season. His last truly outstanding season came in the split season of 1981, when a strike shortened the year. He was 14-2 that year in 23 starts, but would continue to pitch well. There was a brief return to the Mets in 1983, then two years with the White Sox in which he won 31 games, including his 300th win against the Yankees in New York. Many fans felt it should have happened at Shea.

Tom retired at the age of 41 after the 1986 season and in 1992 was elected to the Hall of Fame garnering 98.8 percent of the votes. In retirement, he was always a welcome guest on baseball shows and round table discussions about the game. His love of the game always came through and he often voiced his opposition to the way pitching has evolved, with fewer complete games, pitch counts, and multiple relievers. And whenever he returned to New York he got a heroes welcome, especially at the ballpark. Mets fans have never quite gotten over the Midnight Massacre. To them, he was and will be always a Met.

He later settled in the wine country of his native California and became a winemaker. He loved working in the vineyards almost as much as talking baseball. Though nothing could ever replace the feeling of being on the mound.

The final years weren't as kind. He had a longstanding battle with Lyme Disease and eventually began developing dementia. Still, his death shocked many people, especially the fans who remembered him as a young man, throwing that great fastball with perfect drop and drive mechanics that always left a dirt mark on his right knee. In their minds, he'll always be The Franchise. And that's the guy I'll remember, as well.

Old-Time Baseball Photos would like to extend its deepest condolences to Tom's wife, Nancy, and his two daughters. They lost a loving husband and father, and the baseball world lost a legend.