The Rodney McCray clip earlier prompted me to look up Rodney McCray’s brief stint with the Mets, which included 18 games but only one plate appearance — an RBI single — during the miserable 1992 season.

Then I looked up and down that team’s roster and realized there’s something funny to say about nearly every single guy who played from that team. Todd Hundley posted a .572 OPS. Howard Johnson played center field. Bill “wait ’til you see” Pecota was on the squad, as were Jeff McKnight, Willie Randolph and two-sport non-star D.J. Dozier.

But the name that really jumped out at me was Pat Howell, a center fielder who put up a .418 OPS over 31 games late that season, his only Major League stint. Howell couldn’t hit at all; he finished his career with a .603 Minor League OPS over 14 seasons.

He stuck around that long, presumably, because he played a great center field. And my lasting — nay, only — memory of Howell is that he made perhaps the best catch I’ve ever seen in person.

Don’t ask me the game, the day, the situation or the hitter. I don’t remember any of it. All I remember is a deep fly ball to dead center field and Pat Howell, running full tilt — and he could fly — making a leaping, over-the-shoulder grab.

When I think back on it and the mechanics of everything, it’s a bit unclear why he had to jump the way he did — it wasn’t a dive, just a leap, and he took off like it was a long-jump attempt. Howell wound up catching the ball in mid-flight just before both of his spikes hit the center field wall — just to the right of Shea’s 410 mark, if I recall correctly.

His momentum pushed his body forward but his spikes stayed attached the wall. He managed to stumble off the fence without falling, but the spikes made two small rips in the center field wall so a little bit of white padding showed through for the remainder of the game. It was cool.

First, to reiterate something I’ve written about a billion times in the past two weeks: I think the role of field manager is wildly overrated by both fans and the media. I think there’s a baseline of baseball intellect and motivational ability present in all men deemed worthy of Major League managing jobs, and it is high enough for any of them to helm a championship-caliber club if he has enough good players, a well-constructed roster, and a healthy dose of good fortune.

But I imagine there are teams that have been helped — if only slightly — toward a championship by their managers and teams that have won championships only in spite of their managers, so it obviously behooves the Mets to make the optimal choice.

I don’t know any of Mets’ four finalists personally. I’ve spoken to Wally Backman and Terry Collins, but never to Chip Hale or Bob Melvin. And I have not conducted multiple, hours-long interviews with any of them regarding their candidacies.

So I think it’s reasonable to defer to Sandy Alderson and his crew and assume that they’ve done a lot more to research, analyze and consider each candidate than I have. Almost all of my knowledge of the four men comes from published reports and discussions with people who have covered their teams. And all of them seem like at least decent choices to run the on-field operations of a Major League club.

All that said, if you want to know — as a couple have asked — which of the four candidates I’m rooting for (since Tim Bogar was never a real possibility), it’s Hale.

That’s not just based on my conversation with Kevin Burkhardt yesterday, though hearing Kevin rave about Hale’s attitude, candidness and relationship with the players certainly didn’t hurt.

A common refrain of the Wally Backman Lobby is that Backman has won at every managerial stop. But check out where Hale’s teams finished in his six years managing in the Minors, across three levels: First, first, first, second, second, first.

And Hale has upper-level experience over Backman, since he managed three years at Triple-A and has now spent four years coaching in the bigs.

What Hale offers over Melvin and Collins is uncertainty. I’m not sure that means much, of course, since like I said I think a manager’s record has a lot more to do with the players on his roster than anything he’s doing.

But both Melvin and Collins have failed at the Major League level, and we still don’t know if Hale’s some sort of managing savant that can reason or will all his teams to enormous success. He probably isn’t — even if he’s a good manager — but you can’t know if you don’t try. I generally root for the unproven upstart, is I guess what I’m saying. It’s like choosing the rookie over the veteran who has shown that he’s not particularly special.

Collins, in particular, worries me for a few reasons. For one, he hasn’t managed a Major League club since 1999, and that stint with the Angels ended in calamitous fashion. Second, he is very well-regarded in his role as the Mets’ Minor League Field Coordinator. And I think it’s reasonable to argue that, given the current state of the Mets and their farm system, that job is at least as important (and likely requires more stability) as being the Major League skipper.

So I’m pulling for Hale, even though I recognize that he’s a longshot. But no matter which candidate the Mets choose, I reserve the right to criticize him for some to-be-determined strategic miscue during the season.

Also, for what it’s worth, Chip Hale was the batter for future Met Rodney McCray’s SportsCenter-dominating catch. Shown here with way more Uecker than the original:

As Adam Rubin pointed out, Boss turns 32 today.

According to this report on MetsLocker.com, Pascucci will be back for another go of it with the Mets in 2011. I have no reason to doubt the report — I don’t imagine the people at MetsLocker.com traffic in making up totally plausible stories about Quad-A mashers re-signing — but since I didn’t see Pascucci’s return noted anywhere else I’m trying to get confirmation from the Mets.

I’m hoping to get down to Spring Training this year. If Pascucci’s going to be there you can pretty much bank on a really awkward web video in which I ask him if he knows that to this day, half the time one of my articles is linked at MetsBlog, someone brings up his name.

(And I’m still happy to point out that the Mets fell a single game short after giving 151 plate appearances to Marlon Anderson in 2008 — nearly all of them while he was pinch hitting or playing first base or left field. Anderson rewarded them with a .540 OPS while Pascucci was slugging better than that in New Orleans.)

Anyway, I’ll keep looking for more info on Pascucci’s return. But in the meantime, here’s hoping he enjoys his birthday.

I had a long conversation toward the end of the season with Wright about essentially the same subject. Actually, it was more me talking and Wright saying he was interested and to keep talking. The subject was this: I wish I could transport Wright out of the Mets clubhouse to a more professional team such as the Yankees or Red Sox so he could see how different that atmosphere was in those places.

What I told Wright was that I looked at him and a few others in the Mets’ clubhouse as an oasis around too much unprofessionalism. And I suggested that he had been at the party so long –- a lifetime Met –- that he was losing the ability to distinguish between acceptable and unacceptable. I pointed out various elements both in front of us about how cavalierly players were preparing for that day’s game; the lack of structure, discipline, seriousness.

– Joel Sherman, N.Y. Post.

OK, I should start by saying that for all I know, Wright does have a problem with the way the Mets’ clubhouse has been run the past couple of seasons. From what little Wright demonstrates of his personality to the public, we know that he is an extremely hard worker and very, very dedicated player.

But him coming out and saying on the record that his teammates need to take their preparation more seriously would be very different from him just maybe nodding as Sherman told him that his teammates need to take their preparation more seriously. And I find it difficult to put too much stock in second-hand quotes from Wright via Larry Bowa, for that matter.

I’ve been through this about a billion times before and I’m not all that eager to revisit it, but problems in the clubhouse — at least the type reporters see — are almost entirely based on confirmation bias (and I don’t think players are immune to that).

The first example I can think of is the one I mentioned here: When the 2007 Rockies played video games in the Dodgers’ clubhouse before a game during their miracle run, they were praised for their loose, fun-loving unity. When Oliver Perez did the same thing the next year, he should have been watching video or something. The 2010 Mets themselves were celebrated for their attitude when they were winning; it was “toward the end of the season” when Sherman voiced to Wright his concerns about their unprofessionalism.

I think I can add a little context here, too. Since the Mets moved to Citi Field, it has become way harder for reporters to get a sense of what players do before games. In the locker room before most Mets’ home games, you’ll usually see at most four or five Mets sitting by their lockers listening to music or texting, and somewhere between 20 and 40 members of the media standing in the middle of the room, just kind of waiting to see if something interesting happens.

The other players will pass through — they’ll quickly throw on their uniforms on their way to the batting cage, or out to the field for warmups and batting practice. But they tend to spend most of the time before games — at least the time that the locker room is open to the media — in back rooms of the clubhouse where reporters can’t go, doing something that is presumably way more awesome than standing around listening to Joel Sherman tell you that your team lacks discipline.

The beat reporters who travel with the team might get a better sense of it because the players don’t have nearly as much space in visiting clubhouses, but I’m not sure anyone besides the players and coaches themselves is qualified to weigh in on the full breadth of preparation that Major Leaguers — even the Mets — endeavor to get ready for games.

And though it’s impossible to argue that the Mets were structured, disciplined and serious in 2010 — they were not a winning team, after all — it doesn’t seem fair to put those words in Wright’s mouth simply because he was too polite to walk away from them.