It usually happened in his office, one of the rare ones in those days with a computer. Not so rare was the refrigerator full of beer, which would make his office the room of choice for Keith Hernandez, still in uniform, to watch one of the greatest comebacks in World Series history.
It would happen, too, in hotel bars on the road, the usual endpoint to a day’s work of the New York Mets of the 1980s, who like Middle Age marauders would invade your town, fight your team and drink your beer, whiskey or, if it were all you had left, your mead, and then move on to their next conquest.
