Welcome to the eleventh installment of Mets Sunday School: Forgotten Faces of Flushing, where we take a trip down memory lane to revisit the orange-and-blue-clad players who time—and often Mets fans—seem to have forgotten. Every week, we’ll rummage through baseball cards (or crumbling programs that smelled like hot dogs) to shine a light on the Mets who didn’t make headlines but still found a way to be part of the team’s unpredictable and unforgettable history at Shea, Citi, the Polo Grounds, and beyond.
Last week, we examined the journey of Ron Gardenhire, a name more commonly associated with the Minnesota Twins but who got his start in Queens. While his time with the Mets was brief, Gardenhire's journey from a scrappy infielder in Flushing to a respected big-league manager was one worth revisiting. His early years with the Mets may not have been filled with accolades, but they laid the foundation for a baseball mind that would go on to impact the game for decades.
This week, we turn our attention to a player who became an unlikely postseason hero for the 1969 Miracle Mets: Al Weis. Known more for his glove than his bat, Weis delivered some of the biggest hits of the World Series, proving that sometimes, the unlikeliest of players can rise to the occasion when it matters most. Though he was never a star, his contributions to that championship team—and his journey through the game—deserve another look.
So grab a seat, sharpen your pencils, and let’s get to work!
Al Weis may not be the first name that comes to mind when thinking about the Miracle Mets of 1969, but his contributions were crucial to their unforgettable championship run. A light-hitting utility infielder, Weis delivered some of the most unexpected and timely performances in World Series history, cementing his place in Mets lore.
Born and raised in Franklin Square, New York, Weis grew up in the shadows of the city’s baseball legends. His passion for the game was evident from an early age, and he developed into a standout player before signing with the Chicago White Sox. Weis began his Major League career with the White Sox, debuting in 1962. He played six seasons in Chicago as a versatile infielder but never emerged as an offensive threat. In December 1967, he was traded to the Mets as part of a six-player deal that also brought Tommie Agee to New York. The trade would prove pivotal, as both players played key roles in the Mets' improbable 1969 championship season.
Al Weis wasn’t supposed to be a hero. In fact, if you had asked anyone before the 1969 season what his role would be, they probably would have shrugged and said, “Uh… backup infielder?” But baseball has a funny way of turning the ordinary into the extraordinary, and Weis’s contributions to the Miracle Mets made him one of the most unexpected stars in franchise history.
When the 1969 season kicked off, the Mets were suddenly in an actual pennant race. This was unfamiliar territory. The Cubs looked unbeatable early on, and New York was just hoping to stay in the mix. Then, in July, the team’s spark plug, Bud Harrelson, had to report for Army Reserve duty, leaving a glaring hole at shortstop. Enter Al Weis, a guy better known for his glove than his bat—and even his glove didn’t get people too excited.
Gil Hodges didn’t have much choice but to play Weis every day. It was either that or put Ed Kranepool at shortstop and hope nobody noticed. And somehow, Weis didn’t just hold his own—he started contributing in ways no one saw coming.
On July 8, the Mets kicked off a crucial series against the division-leading Cubs. Weis was in the lineup, batting eighth, which is where managers tend to hide guys who bring more personality than power to the plate. He chipped in with a key run in a dramatic Mets win, but his real fireworks were still to come.
A week later, on July 15 at Wrigley Field, Weis stepped in against ex-Met Dick Selma with two runners on. The count ran to 1-2, and then—BOOM!—Weis launched a fastball onto Waveland Avenue. His first reaction was probably to check if a strong wind was blowing out. His second was to remind himself to actually touch all the bases. “I’m always surprised,” he admitted when asked about his rare power surge.
And then, as if to prove that the first one wasn’t a fluke, he homered again the next day. This time, it was off Rich Nye. Tom Seaver, always quick with a quip, told reporters, “I have an announcement—Al Weis is now only 483 years behind Babe Ruth.”
Weis continued playing solid defense and chipping in timely hits while Harrelson was away. By the time the Mets overtook the Cubs for first place in September, Weis had done more than just fill in—he’d played a key role in keeping the team’s momentum rolling. He even turned the double play that officially clinched the division, sending Shea Stadium into bedlam.
When the Mets faced the mighty Baltimore Orioles in the World Series, most experts gave them about as much chance as a Little League team. The Orioles had big bats, big arms, and a big chip on their shoulders. The Mets had… well, they had heart. And Al Weis, apparently channeling Babe Ruth for one last act, became an unlikely offensive star.
Weis, who hit exactly two home runs all season, batted .455 in the series and drove in three crucial runs. His biggest moment came in Game 5 when he tied the game with a solo homer off Dave McNally. Fans across the country collectively did a double-take. “Al Weis? That Al Weis?” But there he was, rounding the bases like he’d been doing it his whole career.
Weis finished the World Series with a .455 batting average (5-for-11), a .563 on-base percentage, and a .727 slugging percentage—numbers that made him look more like a middle-of-the-order slugger than a light-hitting utility man.
The Mets won the game, won the World Series, and Weis had officially cemented himself in baseball lore as one of the most unlikely postseason heroes ever.
Al Weis didn’t have the kind of career that makes the Hall of Fame call you up and ask what weekend works for your induction. But what he did have was one unforgettable post season when he stepped up at the right moments and helped turn the Mets from lovable losers into champions. Mets fans will always remember him as the unlikeliest of heroes—the guy who, for one magical year, could do no wrong.
Al Weis may not have been a household name, but for one unforgettable October, he became an unlikely legend in Mets history. His heroics in the 1969 World Series proved that baseball is full of surprises, and sometimes, the most unexpected players rise to the occasion when it matters most. As we wrap up this week’s lesson, don’t forget to study up—class will be back in session next Sunday with another forgotten face from Mets history. Who will we be covering next? You’ll just have to come back and find out!