Welcome to the inaugural installment of Kollector’s Korner: Met-o-ra-bil-ia Hall of Fame! That’s right, this is the first one. Who knows—maybe someday this article will be a collectible itself. So, if you’re reading this, print it out, laminate it, and save it for posterity (or at least until the Mets win another World Series).
Every week, we’ll shine a spotlight on the true legends of Mets fandom—not the ones who pitch or hit (though we love those guys, too)—but the die-hard collectors who’ve turned their passion for the orange and blue into bona fide Hall of Fame-worthy collections.
These aren’t your garden-variety Mets fans with a program or two stuffed in a shoebox. Oh no. We’re talking about the folks whose basements look like Citi Field collided with Cooperstown. These are the keepers of the faith, the historians of heartbreak, and the curators of countless Shea seats, signed baseballs, and promotional bobbleheads—some of which may or may not resemble the players they’re modeled after.
Through this series, we’ll get to know the people behind the memorabilia: the stories, the triumphs, the near-misses on eBay, and maybe even a few tall tales about how they got their hands on that game-used jersey. If you’ve ever wondered what kind of person has the dedication (and maybe just the right touch of madness) to collect every Tommie Agee card ever printed, you’re in the right place.
So sit back, grab a cold one (preferably a Rheingold in a Mets-branded cup), because if we’ve learned anything from watching Mets games in the ’60s, it’s that we’re supposed to “Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer.” And hey, if Rheingold isn’t your choice, and you're not stopping after your first, no judgment—just like in the ’70s, when we learned that Schafer is "the one beer to have when you're having more than one." Just make sure it’s cold, and let’s dive into the Amazin’ stories of the superfans who keep Mets history alive.
If you've ever found yourself standing in front of a collection of Mets memorabilia, awestruck by the sheer devotion and heart behind it all, you may just have crossed paths with Mario Arduini. The owner of one of the most impressive Mets collections you'll ever see, Mario is not just a collector—he’s a man whose passion for the Mets and the game of baseball has shaped much of his life. His collection is a shrine to everything Mets, filled with game-used jerseys, Shea Stadium seats, signed baseballs, and even personal artifacts from the likes of Ed Kranepool. But it’s not just about the items—it's about the stories they carry.
Mario’s love for the Mets dates back to the mid-70s, a time when Cable TV finally arrived in his hometown of Rensselaer, New York. For Mario, the 1974-75 seasons became a defining period in his life, as he began to tune into every Mets game he could find. From there, a lifelong fandom was born. But it wasn’t until 1978 that Mario's collecting journey began. Armed with a stack of baseball cards and an address to the Mets' front office, he started sending his cards in hopes of getting them signed by his heroes. The first card to come back signed? None other than Bud Harrelson.
Today, Mario's collection boasts over 2,000 items, from the typical signed baseballs and jerseys to rare treasures like Ed Kranepool’s high school report card and immunization records—items Mario was lucky enough to receive directly from Kranepool himself. But the crown jewels? A 1969 Mets signed ball and a shadow box dedicated to Gil Hodges, complete with his personal notes. These pieces represent more than just memorabilia; they are tangible links to a Mets legacy that Mario cherishes deeply.
For Mario, the thrill of collecting Mets memorabilia goes beyond acquiring valuable pieces—it’s about the connections and friendships that come with it. One of his most meaningful relationships is with his all-time favorite player, Willie Montanez. Mario first met Montanez at the 2008 Mets Fantasy Camp, where he had the chance to interact with members of both the 1969 and 1986 championship teams. Montanez served as Mario’s manager during the camp, and what began as admiration from afar blossomed into a lasting friendship that continues to this day. Over the years, Mario has accumulated several game-used jerseys and bats directly from Willie—each piece not just a memento, but a tangible link to a friendship that transcends the game.
While Mario’s collection spans decades and includes some impressive items, like Shea Stadium seats (which set him back a cool $869), it’s the smaller, personal pieces that bring him the most joy. Mario’s experience has taught him a valuable lesson: it’s not about chasing the big-ticket items. Instead, he encourages budding collectors to focus on what speaks to them personally, just as his own collection is a reflection of the moments, players, and memories that mean the most to him.
Outside of his collecting, Mario is just as passionate about his other roles in life. He substitutes at his old high school, coaches girls’ basketball and softball, and manages a 15U boys’ travel baseball team. The juggling act of teaching, coaching, and collecting isn’t for the faint of heart, but Mario’s ability to multitask has made it all work. And when he’s not working, you’ll find him enjoying quality family time or diving into his next memorabilia find.
For Mario, every collector dreams of their “holy grail”—that one elusive item (or in his case, a few) that would complete their collection. For him, the ultimate prizes include a jacket and batting helmet that Willie Montanez wore during his time with the Mets. These items would not only deepen his connection to his favorite player but also add a personal layer of history to his already impressive collection. Another dream item? A turnstile from Shea Stadium. To Mario, such a piece would symbolize the countless fans who passed through its gates to cheer on the Mets, including himself. It’s not just about the item—it’s about the stories and memories it represents.
And so, Mario’s story is not just one of memorabilia. It’s a tale of passion, perseverance, and friendship—a reflection of everything the Mets have come to mean to fans over the years. The collection is more than just a bunch of items in glass cases. It’s a living, breathing testament to the emotional ties that baseball fans hold so dear. For Mario Arduini, his Mets collection will always be about the stories, the memories, and the friendships—because, as any true fan knows, it’s never just about the game.
What could be more fitting than a Mets fan who understands the value of history, connection, and passion? Mario’s journey proves that some collections aren’t just about what’s collected—they’re about who you become in the process.
So true! The collect is about the memories and not the money.