I can still remember when it was announced that Mike Piazza was coming to play for the New York Mets.

I was eating dinner at my mother's kitchen table when the 5 p.m. news reported that the Mets had acquired the slugger from the Florida Marlins. What ensued was some of the ugliest white-boy dancing you've ever seen … or didn't see, for that matter.

Anyway, what ensued was truly wonderful for Mets fans who had struggled through the likes of the Bud Harrelson and Dallas Green regimes.

An appearance in the NLCS in 1999 against the Atlanta Braves (thanks again, Kenny Rogers), and that truly magical Subway Series against the Yankees the following year (thanks again, Armando Benitez).

Sure, the Yanks won the series 4-1, but watching that team come together was something I'll never forget.

And at the heart of it all was the backstop, number 31.

All he did was hit .296 as a Met (.323 in '98-'00) and set the Major League record for home runs as a catcher- as a Met.

What other fans, especially Yankees fans, can't appreciate is when a truly special player comes your way. You only get to watch them for a very short time usually.

Great Yankees come and go with the changing of the winds. When they're a Met, that window is usually shorter than normal.

This time was different. We got to watch Piazza for the better part of eight seasons.

We watched him dominate as soon as his bags were unpacked. We watched him struggle with First Base and nagging injuries later on.

We watched him think about going after then-Yankees pitcher Roger Clemens, only to reign in his emotions out of nothing but pure class when Clemens showed he had none.

We watched the cast around him change. Where are Todd Zeile, Robin Ventura, Benny Agbayani, Jay Payton, Timo Perez, Edgardo Alfonso and Rey Ordonez?

We watched the team rise to contender status, and then flounder again.

His time also saw Bobby Valentine unceremoniously run out of town, only to be replaced by Art Howe who barely made it through two seasons.

Yes indeed, May 22, 1998 changed everything for Mets fans.

A poet whose name I don't know or can't remember once said: "...soon the green chute becomes the withered stalk, and you learn the hill all beans travel by."

While his career may not be over, his legacy is.

It was good while it lasted, wasn't it?