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Welcome back to Sunday School: Forgotten Faces of Flushing, our weekly rummage through the Mets’ attic, where we brush the dust off the bubble gum cards, flip through curling yearbooks, and rediscover the names that once made you stop mid knish and say, “Hold on… he was a Met, right?” Last week we stood, removed our caps, and revisited the voices that opened Mets games long before the first pitch and the first second guessing of the bullpen. From Pearl Bailey setting the tone

Wilbur Wood never looked like a pitcher destined to be remembered. That may be the most fitting place to begin. He did not arrive early, he did not overwhelm hitters with power, and he did not follow a straight path to greatness. Yet when Wood passed away at 84, baseball said goodbye to one of its most unlikely and extraordinary careers, built on reinvention, endurance, and a pitch that defied convention. Before Mets fans marveled at R A Dickey bending time and logic with a