According to Dante's "Inferno," there was a sign posted near the River
 Acheron and the First Circle of Hell that warned visitors: "Abandon All
 Hope, Ye Who Enter Here."

That sign should have been posted over the home of the Brooklyn Cyclones
 on Friday, when the New York Mets held an "open tryout" for hundreds of
 dreamers who believe that they have what it takes to play professional
 baseball.

Instead of the 100 people that the Mets anticipated, 500 baseball
 barbarians amassed at the gates of KeySpan Park, the pride of virtually
 every area college, high-school, Little League, public park summer
 league, softball league, PAL league and backyard pick-up league.

Not only did the dreamers come from everywhere, they came with every
 baseball look: perfect uniforms and high knee-socks, old Mets jerseys
 that were tributes to heroes past (whatever happened to Todd Hundley,
 after all?), cherished high school t-shirts (who knew that Norwalk High
 was the national champs in 1998?), or plain V-neck undershirts (these
 were the guys with muscles in places where other men don't even have
 places).

But no matter what they looked like or what they wore, above all, they
 were GUYS, that subspecies of the Homo sapien male that simply can not
 be convinced -- no matter how far their beer bellies swell, how much
 pain emanates from their torn rotator cuffs, or how inflexible their
 stiff backs are -- that they should put away their gloves and spikes for
 weekend use only.

There is just no way to entertain rational thoughts when "the dream" of
 being paid to play baseball is still in your head.

"I will play anywhere in the world, if that's what it takes," said Ted
 Actie, a star on a Brooklyn amateur team called Downtown Express.

Nearby, Joseph Cacciato chewed tobacco. Although he makes a good living
 as a lawyer -- and although he is 29 years old -- Cacciato just can't
 forget "the dream."

"I hurt my arm when I was younger, but now I'm throwing hard again," he
 said. "As long as I still have a shot of playing baseball, I'm going to
 take it. I can always be a lawyer."

"Always" started on Friday. With little warm-up, Cacciato was told to
 throw eight pitches. With the radar gun pointing at him like a one-man
 firing squad, Cacciato got nervous and never threw faster than 86 miles
 per hour.

"And that was it," he said. "The only thing the scout said was, `Next!'"

Any attempt to make this "tryout" was going to be a serious assessment of
 baseball talent vanished when so many people showed up. At most,
 would-be players were allowed to run a 40-yard dash or hit the cutoff
 man from the outfield (an unfair test, really, considering that Met
 legend Darryl Strawberry never hit a cutoff man in his life).

"This is just bulls--t," said one hopeful, after he breezed through the
 full extent of his chance to impress the Met brass.

To make sure such bitterness and resentment didn't get widely reported,
 the Mets had wisely invited about two-dozen reporters to try out for the
 team themselves, knowing fully well that it would result in nearly
 two-dozen sun-dappled stories about the beauty of baseball and the good
 will of the Met organization.

Full disclosure? I "tried out," too, running the 40-yard dash (judging
 from my time, I was actually running a 60-yard dash) and fielding two
 ground balls (remembering all the valuable lessons I learned in Little
 League: keep your butt down, throw from a set position, don't be
 distracted by the smell of those hamburgers coming from the snack
 stand).

To be fair, the Mets never made any promises. Before the "tryout,"
 Cyclones general manager Steve Cohen reminded reporters that "it's very
 very difficult to make a major-league team this way" and that "only one
 or two" of the hopefuls would deserve a second look.

Actie may have been that person. In an outfielders' drill, Actie threw
 three balls from right field to home plate so accurately that when he
 was done, a Met scout yelled, "What number was that guy?" and jotted
 down the answer with genuine enthusiasm.

The Mets haven't called ... yet. So until the call comes, Actie will keep
 his day job as a graphic designer and keep dreaming.

"You know, I just heard of another tryout coming up in a few weeks," he
 said, his voice drifting off -- the sound of hope springing eternal.

--30--

email: gershny@yahoo.com