NEW YORK -- The sign man of Shea Stadium died Thursday.

Karl Ehrhardt was a fixture at Mets games from 1964 through 1981, famous for holding up tailored signs after key plays that displayed his

pleasure or frustration with the team.

Karl Ehrhardt, the Mets fan known as the Sign Man for his witty and biting signs at Shea Stadium, holds up a "Met Power" sign after a home run in Game 3 of the 1969 World Series. Ehrhardt died Thursday at 83. AP Photo

He was 83 and died at his home in the Glen Oaks section of

Queens, according to his daughter Bonnie Troester. Ehrhardt had

been recovering from vascular surgery.

Ehrhardt's block-lettered signs served as color commentary for

both fans in the stands and TV viewers at home. He carried dozens

to each game, some witty, some biting.

"Jose, Can You See?" was a regular when Mets outfielder after

Jose' Cardenal struck out. "It's Alive!" was for hitters who

broke out of a slump.

"Just Great!" was for more spectacular moments.

Only the Mets 1969 World Series victory left him speechless. The

sign he raised high after the last out read, "There Are No

Words."

At one point he had about 1,200 signs to choose from.

"I just called them the way I saw them," Ehrhardt told The New

York Times in 2006.

"Before I went to the ballpark, I would try to crystal-ball

what might happen that particular day," he said. "I would read

all the newspapers to learn who was hot and who was in a slump,

stuff like that, and create my signs accordingly."

Ehrhardt wasn't always a Mets fan. He grew up rooting for the

Dodgers in Brooklyn before switching to the Mets in the early

1960s.

"He was part of the happening that Shea became," said Bob

Mandt, former Mets vice president for baseball operations.

Ehrhardt was born in Unterweissbach, Germany. He moved to the

United States when he was six years old and later served as a

translator for U.S. forces during World War II.

He graduated from the Pratt Institute with a design art degree

after the war and worked for American Home Foods.

His wife, Lucille Schneyer, died in 1997. He is survived by a

daughter, a son and two grandchildren.