Kollector’s Korner Met-o-ra-bil-ia Hall of Fame Inductee #9: Family, Fandom, and the Mets: Justin Oland’s Story

If you’ve been saving our first seven installments in plastic sleeves and alphabetizing them by subject, congratulations — you’re officially one of us. If you’re new to the Kollectors Hall of Fame, this is where we shine a light on Mets fans whose devotion to the orange and blue goes way beyond watching the games. These are the people who live baseball, catalog baseball, and, in some cases, dust their baseball memorabilia more than they dust their own furniture.

This month, we induct a guy who bleeds orange and blue, runs his life on a busy schedule of family, work, and baseball, and still somehow finds time to snag one-of-a-kind Mets pieces. Meet Justin Oland, a husband, dad, insurance adjuster, music junkie, and the guy who might be the most popular host in Commack when the BBQ is going.

Some guys collect baseball cards. Others collect jerseys, autographs, or the odd bobblehead. But for Justin , collecting Mets memorabilia is something far deeper. It’s a way to connect his past, his family, and the game that’s been stitched into his life since childhood.

Justin somehow manages to balance a successful career, a packed family schedule, and his role as one of the most dedicated Mets collectors around. When he’s not building out his collection, you’ll find him with his wife Meryl cheering on their boys ,Jake, a freshman at the University of Delaware, and Zack, a sophomore in High School. Justin also runs a Public Insurance Adjusting firm with his father Michael, proving that family bonds run just as deep in business as they do in baseball. And if he’s not at a ballpark, you’ll probably catch him at a concert (he’s as passionate about Pearl Jam and Motley Crüe as he is about the Mets) or hosting a backyard BBQ with a big crew of friends.

His Mets story begins the way so many do, with his dad. Michael’s firm had season tickets at Shea Stadium, right behind the first base coach’s box. Imagine being a kid and coming home to see your dad with four tickets, a parking pass, and access to the Diamond Club. (Of course, they never actually went inside the Diamond Club , you had to wear a suit, and that wasn’t exactly a little boy’s game day attire.) Instead, Justin’s mom would pack tuna sandwiches, and the Olands would head to Shea, where larger-than-life players roamed the field, forever embedding themselves in his memory.

The first piece of Mets memorabilia Justin remembers getting was a signed Lenny Dykstra ball and photo, after waiting on line with his mom for three hours at a Modell’s in East Meadow. Dykstra was his guy, his childhood idol and that ball still has a special place in his collection. That one moment sparked something in him, and the collection began to grow.

Over time, Justin’s collection has evolved from yearbooks, cards, and scorebooks into a wide-ranging mix of personal treasures, autographs, and rare finds. But none may be as special as the Jeff McNeil bat that sits in his collection. And the story behind it? It might be one of the most “Mets fan” stories you’ll ever hear.

One late summer night, Justin’s youngest son came running into his room, yelling that Jeff McNeil — his favorite player — had just posted on social media about desperately needing a plumber. Justin figured it was some kind of prank, but he reached out anyway. The next morning, at 8 a.m. on Labor Day, a plumber was at McNeil’s house, fixing a leak. That simple act of kindness led to something bigger. Justin, through his work, ended up helping McNeil with an insurance claim, and the two struck up a real friendship. McNeil showed his appreciation by gifting Justin a signed bat and even donated memorabilia that raised money for Commack Little League and cancer foundations. Later, he invited Justin and his boys onto the field before a game, spending real time with them. For Justin, the old saying goes “never meet your heroes,” but in this case, watching his son meet McNeil turned out to be one of the greatest moments of his life.. There are the spring training autographs he collected alongside his father and sons, capturing three generations of Olands in one unforgettable trip. And there’s even non-Mets memorabilia that speaks to his other passion: music, like a signed Pearl Jam poster from his wife and a Motley Crüe piece from a secret show.

Still, it all comes back to the Mets. Justin is drawn most to the 1986 team, the 2000 squad, and today’s Mets — three eras that perfectly bookend his own childhood, his college years, and now his role as a dad watching his boys live their Mets fandom. When it comes to “white whales,” two stand out. The first is a team-signed 1986 World Series baseball or a photo of the entire roster — the crown jewel of that magical season. They’re out there, but the price tags are steep, and with the passing of Gary Carter and Davey Johnson, Justin knows they’re only going to climb higher. “I may have to pull the trigger sooner rather than later,” he admits. The other quest is more modern: tracking down a Nolan McLean signed ball. He and his boys already have Brandon Sproat and Christian Jonah Tong, so now the mission is to complete what Justin calls the “next big trio” of Mets youth arms.

That’s why one of his most prized pieces isn’t even on a Top 10 memorabilia list: a Pop Fly print of Lenny Dykstra titled “Nails.” Only 15 were made, and Justin tracked one down, had it framed, and proudly hangs it on his wall. People mistake it for a comic book cover, but once he explains the story, they understand why it matters so much.

For Justin, collecting isn’t about bragging rights or chasing big investments. It’s about connection. It’s about family. It’s about being able to walk into a room, glance at a signed ball, a bat, or a framed piece of art, and immediately be transported back to Shea Stadium with a tuna sandwich in hand, or to Florida with his dad and sons, waiting for Brandon Nimmo to walk over and make a memory that will last a lifetime.

If you ask Justin who his heroes are, he won’t name a Met. He’ll say it’s his parents, Michael and his mom, who shaped him into the man he is today. That’s why collecting, for him, is never about the “big score.” It’s about keeping those memories alive and passing them along.

Justin Oland — loyal, passionate, and never one to filter his thoughts — is exactly what the Kollector’s Hall of Fame is all about: celebrating the fans whose collections tell the real story of the Amazin’ Mets.