From the very first game the Mets played – an 11-4 loss to St. Louis on April 11, 1962 – to the final game of this dreary campaign, and all the landmarks in between, one voice has been synonymous with the Amazin’s: Bob Murphy’s.

But that era is almost over.

For 42 years, the venerable 78-year-old has been the voice of summer at Shea. He’ll retire from the WFAN radio booth after this season, and will be honored with Bob Murphy Appreciation Day before the final home game on Sept. 25.

“We’re excited to play tribute to one of our legends – he’s synonymous with the Mets,” Dave Howard, the Mets’ senior VP, said yesterday.

“We’re looking forward to that night, paying Bob the appropriate respect.”

Murphy announced his retirement early last month on Hall of Fame weekend – fittingly enough, on his own Bobble Head Day.

“My wife [Joye] and I kept talking about it,” Murphy recalled yesterday. “We could see it was more punishing as the days went on. As you get older, it gets more difficult to get your legs to do what you want, and my legs weren’t cooperating.

“It was getting tougher to climb stairs, get around parks. I could see I had to cut it back in a hurry.”

He’d suffered through a nasty fight with pneumonia, and his voice isn’t nearly as strong as it once was. But ultimately, the rigors of the job just became too much.

“I’ve been listening to him since I was 6 – Murph’s the voice of summer, that’s what he is and what he’ll always be,” said broadcast partner Gary Cohen.

“The thing he’s done as well as anybody is rise to the moment. There’s nobody better at bringing you to the edge of your seat and into the park.”

In 1978 Murphy was elected to the Mets Hall of Fame, along with Ralph Kiner and Lindsey Nelson, with whom he teamed for the club’s first 17 years.

“George Weiss, the Mets president, brought us into his hotel room,” Kiner recalled. “He said you guys know how to broadcast; go out and do it. That was the end of the meeting and the beginning of our partnership. We were together the longest one team worked together. I was an only child, and we grew into brothers.”

Murphy saw everything there was to see from the birth of the fledgling franchise, from that 40-120 first squad that stands as the worst in history, to the “miracle” 1969 club that won the World Series.

“The thing I’m most proud of is I’ve done more games on radio in New York than anybody,” said Murphy.

As far as his plans, Murphy quipped, “This is honeydew season: Honey do this, honey do that. I don’t have a single thing planned.”