Regrets, he’s had a few. Enough to write a book about.

Ron Darling, a member of that championship Mets team and the excellent broadcast team that covers the present-day squad, joins the bandwagon of books this year celebrating the 30th anniversary of the 1986 season and last year’s mostly satisfying success.

Unlike the 1969 Mets, who came out of nowhere to shock the baseball world by winning the Series, the ’86 model excelled from the beginning, having contended for a couple of years. They were expected to win; anything else would have been a disappointment, especially after all the puffing and preening they had done during the regular season. That they had a few close calls --- a 16-inning playoff win against the Houston Astros for the pennant, the dramatic Game Six deliverance from the jaws of death against the Red Sox --- only adds to the legend.

"[Darling] fills in the holes that we, the viewing public, cannot see, slipping in and out of asides about teammates and opponents, including the elephant in the room in contemplating the ball club in 1986."

Darling, who enjoyed perhaps the best season of his 13-year career in 1986 (15 wins, a low earned-run average, a career-high in strikeouts), is extremely hard on himself as he recalls his “failure” during the finale, glossing over his earlier good work, losing the second game, 1-0, on an infield error and winning Game Four, 6-2, with another strong showing.

But sports is a “what have you done for me lately” business, and Darling didn’t do much in that seventh game, allowing three runs in less than four innings, including two home runs. The Mets came back to win, 8-5, and happiness embraced the Big Apple. For the most part.

Is being your own harshest critic the mien of the professional? While fans might forgive and forget (heck, in recent years, the Red Sox faithful even embraced Bill Buckner, whose error in the sixth game led to the extension of decades without a World Series trophy), rather than breathe a sigh of relief and embrace the joy, Darling has chosen to, well, wallow. He bemoans his poor effort in detail, reminiscent of picking at a scab, which comes across as somewhat narcissistic.

Darling acknowledges that all this has not been gnawing at his liver strictly from memory; he went through many hours of videotape to remind himself of numerous situations and scenarios in researching his book. He fills in the holes that we, the viewing public, cannot see, slipping in and out of asides about teammates and opponents, including the elephant in the room in contemplating the ball club in 1986. Excerpts from the book highlight the substance abuse of some of the players, like Doc Gooden and Darryl Strawberry. Been there, done that in several previous accounts. But Darling, in interviews on his book tour, has said he understands what sells books.