As pitchers and catchers get set to report to spring training, I would like to take a moment to remember Gary Carter.

As a player for the World Series champion Mets of 1986, the Kid brought out a lot of emotions. For Mets fans, he was a God. For others, he was one of those arrogant Mets, like Doc and Darryl and Davey Johnson and Keith Hernandez.

When the Mets won it all in '86, I was a junior in high school and all I remember are all those "bandwagon" fans, wearing those Carter jerseys, talking about the Mets, celebrating this Amazin team.

I wasn't a Mets fan, so I, of course, was one of those anti-Carter folks and I remember getting into these arguments with my best friend, who to this day is one of the biggest Mets fans there are.

Carter, among all those Mets, brought out this type of emotion. But, the one thing sometimes overlooked in all the back-and-forth, was that this guy could play. It's no surprise Carter is a Hall of Famer.

When I heard about Carter's death, memories of 1986 came flooding back. Although his career in New York was relatively short, for that time with the Mets, Carter owned the city.

Gary Carter lost his battle with brain cancer at age 57. The Kid will be missed.