I hope you all recall Monday’s column. In it, I took a look at how the Mets compared to other National League teams at finding and keeping catchers (hint: not as well as I had expected). I also promised to take a more careful look at the guys who’ve donned the tools of ignorance for the Mets over the years.

Before we begin, I’d like to briefly outline the numbers I’ve looked at. First, when considering offense, I principally looked at Value Over Replacement Player (VORP). VORP is a total summation of a player’s offensive skills, valued in runs and compared to the league replacement level at that position. Why VORP? It’s historically available for the entirety of the Mets’ existence. It makes players playing in different years comparable—the replacement level is based on how the league as a whole performs. And, best of all, I just so happen to have a database with every player’s VORP in it from 1962 onward.

However, VORP doesn’t measure defense, so I also looked at BP’s Fielding Runs. As I said the last time, these numbers aren’t based on play-by-play data like Zone Rating or any of its cousins. Fielding runs have the advantage of being historically accessible, which makes them my easy fielding metric of choice.

So here is your Mets catching history, 1962 to 2008:

Top Five Seasons:

#5
The Year: 1997
The Cast: Todd Hundley, Todd Pratt, Alberto Castillo, cameo by Steve Bieser

I’d imagine a lot of people would think Hundley’s 1996 ranks higher—it was, after all, the season he broke Roy Campanella’s record for homers by a catcher, and it wasn’t interrupted by a season-ending elbow injury. But Hundley hit much better in 1997 while he was active, thanks to superior on-base ability, and, it was a better season defensively, thanks to Pratt in the backup role.

#4
The Year: 1998
The Cast: Mike Piazza and a cast of hundreds

When Hundley went down with that elbow injury at the end of ’97, the team was faced with a dilemma: they were stuck without a catcher for at least 80 games—it turned out to be longer—but they didn’t want a long-term replacement due to Hundley’s expected return in the second half. The Mets assembled a ragtag group of guys in Spring Training, including 1997 backup Pratt, defensive wiz Castillo, and veteran Tim Spehr, who had never before gotten more than 87 at-bats in a season. Spehr knocked the cover off the ball that spring and won the starting job with Castillo. Of course, he was Tim Spehr, not Johnny Bench, and he utterly failed to hit once the real games began. He also broke his wrist on May 5th, which caused the team to call up Pratt…who got injured a few days later. The team, forced to press utility man Jim Tatum into duty, started looking elsewhere for help, quickly signing veteran Rick Wilkins. But Wilkins was pretty much done and owner Nelson Doubleday began pushing for a trade for Mike Piazza, which finally happened at the end of May.

And despite all that, Mets catchers still had their fourth-best season.

#3
The Year: 1985
The Cast: Gary Carter, Ronn Reynolds, Clint Hurdle

The Mets acquired Carter before the 1985 season for Mike Fitzgerald—their starting catcher in 1984—Hubie Brooks, Floyd Youmans, and Herm Winningham. The team expected Carter to be the missing piece to their puzzle, and while they didn’t do as well in 1985 as they had hoped, it was no fault of Carter’s. Carter hit .281/.365/.488, smacking 32 homers and knocking in 100 runs, but it was his defense that really impressed. He was 11 runs better than average and the three combined to be 13 runs better, good enough to rank among the four best defensive seasons in team history. This season would have challenged for number one if the team had managed better backups than Reynolds and Hurdle.

#2
The Year: 1999
The Cast: Mike Piazza, Todd Pratt, cameos by Mike Kinkade and Vance Wilson

The ’99 team was one of the Mets’ best offensively, thanks in large part to Piazza’s first complete season as a Met. He hit .303/.361/.575 with 40 homeruns, 100 runs scored, and 124 RBI, while backup Pratt hit a very capable .293/.369/.386. What’s perhaps most interesting about this season is that it was Piazza’s best defensively as a Met; he was just a tick below average while Pratt was good enough to make the duo league average.

#1
The Year: 2000
The Cast: Mike Piazza, Todd Pratt, cameo by Vance Wilson

What a surprise: Piazza again. He had his best season as a Met, posting an incredible line of .324/.398/.614 while hitting 38 homers, scoring 90 runs, and knocking in 113 as the team went on to win the pennant. And he didn’t do all the heavy lifting himself; Pratt contributed 10.5 VORP off the bench that season, hitting .275/.378/.463 in 160 at-bats. The only thing they didn’t do well was play defense—the group was a combined eight runs below average.

And yes, the team enjoyed four of its five best seasons from catchers in four straight years (which makes perfect sense considering who their backstops were). If you only include one season from each starting catcher, you can add 1974 (John Stearns) and 1976 (Jerry Grote) to the list.

You also might be wondering about the worst seasons: they’re all in the 1960s. The five worst, in order from worst to not-so-worst, are 1963, 1967, 1965, 1966, and 1962. To give you a bit of perspective, in 1963 Mets catchers—a cadre consisting of Choo Choo Coleman, Norm Sherry, Jesse Gonder, Chris Cannizzaro, and Sammy Taylor—hit .196/.257/.254, good for a sOPS+ of 50(!!), the second-worst mark of any season from any NL team since 1962. To make matters worse, they were dreadful defensively, finishing a combined 11 runs below average.

In 1967, they didn’t do much better. In fact, they hit .204/.237/.255 which is actually an OPS a little worse than 1963’s mark, but 1967 was a tougher year for hitters in general, so the offense actually wasn’t quite as bad. Grote just wasn’t ready to play yet, and none of his backups were any more capable.

Top Seven Catchers (Career)

1. Mike Piazza: As anti-climactic as it gets. I estimate his VORP as a catcher (I docked him for his time spent at first) to be 345.9; only Hundley has a mark north of 100, and his is 101.1.

2. Gary Carter: Carter only spent five seasons with the Mets, and only two were great seasons, but they were great enough to win him the second spot. The best combination of offense and defense the Mets have ever had.

3. Jerry Grote: Takes the third spot for two reasons: longevity and defense. Grote was well known for having a strong arm and working very with pitchers. Wasn’t terrible with the bat, either, particularly later in his career.

4. John Stearns: I think many would put Hundley in this spot, but Stearns was a better all-around player and a little more consistent year in and out. “Bad Dude” was a hard-nosed, former 5-11, 195-pound defensive back at the University of Colorado who was drafted by the Buffalo Bills but chose baseball. He didn’t hit for high averages or have a lot of power, but he did the little things well: got on base, great speed for a catcher, sound defensively. An elbow injury ended his career at age 32 in 1983, however, and he’s now working as a manager in the Nationals’ system.

5. Todd Hundley: When Hundley was named on the Mitchell Report many blamed his 1996 and 1997 power surge solely on steroids. I’m not sure that’s entirely fair. Supposedly, David Segui introduced to Kirk Radomski in mid-1995, but really his power numbers had been steadily rising. He slugged .357 in 1993, .443 in 1994 and .484 in 1995. Considering 1996 was his age 27 season, it wasn’t inconceivable that his power would break out as it did. I’m not saying the steroids didn’t help, just that more of it was Hundley than you might think. He’d rank higher if his earlier seasons were better, but he was rushed into a starting job much too quickly.

6. Paul Lo Duca: Sad to say, but two seasons as a starter—only one of them very good—is enough to put you on this list.

7. Ramon Castro: Which brings us to the best of the backups. Castro’s a catcher who’s talented enough to be a starting catcher somewhere, though it’s not happening at this point in his career.

The next three guys on the list: Todd Pratt, Vance Wilson, Ron Hodges.

Worst Catcher: Choo Choo Coleman

Great name, but he sure couldn’t hit and is among the worst defensive backstops they’ve had. When Casey Stengel introduced Coleman, the best he could say was “You have to have a catcher or you’ll have all passed balls.” Pitchers hated pitching to him; Roger Craig once allegedly said of Coleman, “Choo Choo would give you the sign and then look down to see what it was.” He didn’t hit terribly in 1962, actually having the best season of any person they tried there, but his 1963 was a catastrophe at the plate (.178/.264/.215 in 277 plate appearances). You do have to feel bad for Coleman though. The Mets plucked him off a Phillies team that went 47-107, which included a 23-game losing streak. From 1961-1963, his teams went 138-338.

Best Defensive Catcher: Jerry Grote

I should say that you can make a very strong argument for Charlie O’Brien, as he’s got the best Rate of anyone the Mets have had. Alberto Castillo, Duffy Dyer, and Vance Wilson were all great, too. But I’ll stick with Grote, the team leader in FRAA. As I said before, Grote had a wonderful arm and was well-known for his game-calling abilities, at least after manager Gil Hodges and coach Rube Walker came along. Before Hodges, Grote was very well-known for his explosive temper; umps knew him to be a complainer and a griper with a tendency to explode, and Tom Seaver said that temper would sometimes get in the way of his game-calling. Hodges and Walker made a point of calming Grote down, helping him focus on the pitcher.

Best Name: Choo Choo Coleman

It doesn’t get any better than Choo Choo. Honorable mentions go to Duffy Dyer, Hawk Taylor, and Jorge Fabregas.

Once, on Kiner’s Korner, Ralph Kiner asked Choo Choo where the nickname came from. After a long pause came another pause. Finally, Coleman just shook his head and said, “I don’t know, Ralph.”

Here’s one last story, one of Kiner’s favorites to mention during broadcasts: Another time Choo Choo was on the Korner, and the interview just wasn’t going well. Coleman wasn’t a great interview, and he had a tendency to be quiet. Finally Ralph, frustrated, just asks, “What’s your wife’s name and what’s she like?” The response: “Her name’s Mrs. Coleman, and she likes me, bub.”