Kollector’s Korner Met-o-ra-bil-ia Hall of Fame Inductee #11 : 52 Ballparks, 50 States, and One Lifelong Met: The Odyssey of Gordon Freed

If you’ve followed the first ten installments of our Kollectors Hall of Fame series, you already know this is where we celebrate the diehards — the fans whose devotion to the orange and blue doesn’t stop at the final out. These are the people who live Mets baseball, preserve its history, and build their lives around the memories the team has given them.

This month, we induct a collector whose dedication to the Amazins predates Shea Stadium, predates Seaver, and goes all the way back to the very beginning. His devotion is legendary. His collection is massive. And among friends, he’s known by a title he has absolutely earned:

Meet Gordon Freed — or as his world knows him, “Mr. Met.”

Gordon Freed has been a Mets fan since Day One, 1962. Not figuratively — literally. His first game came in 1963 at the Polo Grounds, a 4–3 Mets win, and he still has the original ticket. Most people misplace receipts in a single afternoon. Gordon preserved a piece of Mets history for 61 years and counting.

For him, Mets fandom isn’t something that happens between April and October. It’s a full-time, year-round pursuit. When the season ends, his collection season begins.

Born with spina bifida, Gordon has never allowed the condition to slow his adventures or his passion. He spent 27 years working in the airline industry and made good use of those flight benefits — photographing his journeys across the globe, visiting all 50 states and 56 nations. Baseball stadiums? He’s checked off all 30 current ones, and 52 total when you include those lost to history. The man collects experiences the way he collects memorabilia: completely, joyfully, and with purpose.

And he doesn’t stop at baseball. Gordon is also a lifelong Beatles collector, a collector of Israel stamps, a multi-sport fan, and a season-ticket holder for Duke women’s basketball (which he enjoys with a cousin). The man knows how to fill an offseason.

Gordon didn’t grow up with a sports-loving father, so he and his brother learned baseball the old-fashioned way — at the schoolyard. And like thousands of Mets fans who came of age in the ’60s and ’70s, he formed the nighttime ritual that shaped a generation: slipping a transistor radio under the pillow and falling asleep to Mets–Dodgers or Mets–Giants broadcasts from out west. If the Mets were on, so was Gordon Freed.

And yes, he roots for two teams: the Mets… and whoever’s playing the Yankees. (He says it with a smile.) But he’s also a lover of baseball history, proudly holding autographs from Yankee legends like Mantle, DiMaggio, and Ford. Hate the uniform, respect the greatness.

Retirement has given him even more time to work on his Mets collection — and what a collection it is. Roughly 25,000 items, spanning from those early Polo Grounds days to the present. During visits to family in northern Ohio — most of whom are Tigers fans — he always brings a little Mets joy to his great-nephew, who has wisely chosen the orange and blue path. Gordon may not have children of his own, but he’s absolutely raising a Mets fan anyway.

His collecting journey began instantly: he saved his ticket from that first game in 1963. By 1964, he was saving scorecards from every game he attended. He started collecting Topps Mets cards in ’63 as well — and by 1980, he had completed every Topps Mets card from 1962–80. His reaction was the same one all great collectors have upon finishing a massive run:

“Now what?”

The answer: everything. From that moment on, if it said Mets, Gordon Freed wanted it.

He bought the Seaver and Ryan rookie cards before they exploded in value. He acquired 1960s memorabilia when it was still reachable. Many items he purchased in the early ’80s have skyrocketed; others have held steady. But it doesn’t matter — Gordon isn’t selling. This collection isn’t an investment portfolio. It’s a lifetime.

Gordon has also tracked down some truly unique pieces. One came through a former co-worker connected to Julius La Rosa, the ’50s–’60s singer and Mets fan. La Rosa’s sister had made a papier-mâché Mets item as a birthday gift. When La Rosa’s wife was cleaning out the closet, the co-worker thought of Gordon — and the item found a new home. Gordon calls it so ugly it’s adorable, a piece that now has a permanent place in his collection.

Another story involves Yogi Berra. A former co-worker lived next door to the Hall of Famer and invited Gordon to submit a 1969 item for Yogi’s autograph. She held onto it until her wedding reception — and then, in a perfect twist of timing, Yogi signed it at the party. Moments like these make the collection more than just items; they are memories, intersections of life and baseball.

The 1960s remain his favorite Mets era — the era of his childhood. He has every yearbook and scorecard from the decade, and more memorabilia from that era than any other. Finding new pieces is increasingly difficult (and expensive), but he keeps searching. Living in North Carolina doesn’t help — Mets items aren’t exactly flooding the local flea markets — so Gordon relies on eBay and online auctions, especially when hunting Topps inserts or early-year treasures.

One quest became legendary: the elusive Mets popcorn megaphone. For a decade, he searched through Nationals, local shows, and every lead imaginable. Nothing. Then a Long Island dealer found not one… but two variations. Gordon secured both, ending one of his great white-whale chases. His current dream item? A Polo Grounds seat. It may be beyond reach for now, but if history has taught us anything, it’s never wise to bet against Mr. Freed.

Over the years, Gordon has become friends with a number of fellow Mets memorabilia collectors, maintaining bonds that have lasted 30 years or more. He’s met over 75 former players, attended countless Mets fantasy camps, and is well-known among players for the care he takes with his collection. In November 2023, during a fantasy camp picture day, Eric Hillman insisted Gordon be included — and he was honored to sit between Mookie and coach Bobby Wine. Collecting, for him, is as much about community as it is about the items themselves.

Of all the items Gordon owns, the stories behind them may be even better — especially his favorite Seaver moment. At a 1969 Mets reunion on Long Island, he collected all the autographs and then went back to Tom Seaver's area for a photo. This was the pre–cell phone era, so he handed his friend the camera. As the photo was taken, Seaver — the Franchise himself — pushed Gordon’s cap down over his face. Classic Seaver, legendary prankster. After the laughter, Gordon naturally requested a second photo… this time gripping his cap with authority.

Some of his items have also been displayed publicly. In 2013, the Mets, as All-Star hosts, selected his 1964 All-Star pin for exhibition. Another notable piece, a 1914 Cleveland Naps card featuring Shoeless Joe Jackson, was displayed at the Jackson Museum in Greenville, South Carolina.

Gordon is clear about the philosophy behind his collecting: it’s not about profit, and it’s not about the market. Sure, some items have increased in value, and 1960s–70s non-card memorabilia is increasingly rare, but the collection is part of who he is. It connects him to memories of the Polo Grounds, Shea Stadium, and decades of Amazin’ baseball. “Pick one or two directions and stick with it,” he advises new collectors. “I’m obsessed; don’t be like me.”

Gordon Freed embodies everything the Kollectors Hall of Fame celebrates: passion from the first pitch in 1963 to today, devotion that spans continents, and a collection built not by money or hype but by memory, love, and loyalty.

From the Polo Grounds to Citi Field, from a transistor radio under his pillow to 25,000 items under his roof — from papier-mâché oddities to Yogi-signed treasures — Mr. Met has lived the Amazin’ life.

And now, he takes his rightful place in the Kollectors Hall of Fame.