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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 the yearbooks that still smell faintly of pretzels, and rediscover the players who made you pause mid potato knish and mutter, Hold on, he was a Met, right? Last week, we took a sentimental stroll through Shea Stadium’s old organ loft and revisited the legacy of Jane Jarvis, the musical magician who could turn a

Welcome back to Sunday School: Forgotten Faces of Flushing, our weekly rummage through the Mets’ attic, where we dust off the bubble-gum cards and game-used jerseys of the guys who made you squint and go, “Wait… didn’t he play for us?” Last week, we spotlighted the slime-soaked, neon-splattered Nickelodeon crossover era, a chapter of Mets lore so bizarre you’d swear it was dreamed up by a pack of sugar-fueled 10-year-olds who’d just mainlined Fruit Gushers and were ready to p