The GM replied,
‘The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints in the bullpen,
is when I carried you on the 25-man roster”
- excerpt from Footprints In The ‘Pen

Nelson Figueroa’s return the Majors after a nomadic pro career was one of the Mets feel-good stories last year, which, much like Fernando Tatis’ comeback, gave fans a positive aspect to a season that would end disappointingly.

In 2009, however, Figueroa wouldn’t make the cut when the team broke camp and would have to wait for his next chance at finding a spot on the big league club – but something funny happened on the way to the ballpark…

Nelson found a little bit of Jesus in himself.

Figueroa was eventually called up in April to make a spot-start against the Brewers, but was unceremoniously designated for assignment shortly thereafter despite giving the team a quality start. His wife Alisa famously vented her anger to the world on the Figueroa family blog about how upset they were (“Nelson is upset,” she wrote. “He gave them a quality start and … did not expect to be told that wasn’t good enough and that they needed to make a move and he was that move. He expected more than one day in the big leagues this time around.” After being universally ridiculed by every baseball fan wishing they made $400K playing pro ball on any level for (a) ignoring the rule that there’s no crying in baseball, (b) allowing your wife to quote you crying on the Internet and (c) eventually re-signing with the Mets after discovering no other team likes to sign cry-babies, Nelson was again called up in May thanks to some injuries on the big league club.

But where was Nelson between his call-ups?

He actually never left Flushing. Believing that his designation was a sign from God to find Baby Jesus, the 34-year old Coney Island native immediately gave up his worldly goods (total value: $347.68). He grew his hair out, donned a white linen cloth usually reserved for the post game spread, and stopped shaving. Alisa was there with him at all times, carrying a laptop with a Verizon Wireless mobile access card, blogging his every move.

Nelson brought his kids to the World’s Fair Marina near Citi Field, and re-baptized them in the cold, murky waters of LaGuardia Bay. The pneumonia they developed as a result cleared up after two weeks, though doctors believe the mild rashes may need more time to dissipate.  Nelson also shocked onlookers when he attempted to walk on water by crossing the Flushing River – not because he was able to do so thanks to deeply-caked layers of sludge, congealed oil and cat carcasses tossed in by nearby Main Street eateries, but because he risked permanent skin damage doing so barefoot.

Finally, 40 hours and 231 blog posts later, Nelson finally found time to reflect at an empty Citi Field while the Mets were on the road. The groundskeepers had the day off and some footprints remained imprinted on the bullpen pitching mound. He looked up to the scoreboard, where AV crews were testing some images. A smiling Jesus looked down mockingly at Nelson. “Why have you forsaken me?” he asked out loud. Alisa, carrying his cell phone for him, felt a vibration. “Honey – it’s Tony Bernarzard,” she said nervously.

Two hours later, a freshly shaved, cropped, and showered Nelson Figueroa was headed to LaGuardia to catch a flight west to California to meet with team on their west coast swing. His inner search was complete. The bullpen’s new long man was their savior.

*The last paragraph was fabricated

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