The email came from a work colleague: We’re planning our annual Mets outing, please RSVP.
My instinctive response: Oh God, do I have to?
That’s where this death march of a season has brought us: A free ticket to a Mets game feels like a burden.
The Mets have gone from confounding to infuriating and finally to the place marketing people pray their team never reaches: embarrassing.
Witness Tuesday night’s all-you-can-eat buffet of horrors. Kodai Senga was front and center, resuming his quest for the not particularly cherished distinction of Most Exasperating Starter Ever. Senga blazed through a promising first inning, pitching aggressively and annihilating the Cubs. But in the second he reported for duty with his velocity noticeably down, nibbled on the corners (without hitting them) and got strafed for five runs. I have no idea what’s wrong with Senga and no longer care: I just want him to be somebody else’s problem.
The Mets did some other embarrassing things we’ve grown used to, such as look inert on offense — no, ninth-inning lipstick on the pig of a lost game doesn’t count. And then there was whatever they were up to in the seventh inning: Down five, they made us sit around for eight minutes or so to win a challenge on a ticky-tacky overslide by Pete Crow-Armstrong of second base, which came on ball four to the batter. (Never forget: PCA was a Met farmhand whom we traded so we could watch Javy Baez sulk for two months of garbage time.) Craig Counsell‘s disgust was palpable; so was mine. By God, is that ever not what replay is for: The Mets not only shouldn’t have won the challenge, they also should have lost their right to challenge for the rest of eternity.
I felt sorry for this year’s kidcaster, who had to endure an endless half-inning of Senga being terrible before getting to call a few plays by himself. The Mets of course supplied a one-two-three half-inning with nothing worth calling; by then the poor kidcaster was in his late thirties, wild-eyed and bearded and shouting out warnings of the apocalypse from his fetid lair under a bridge. So it goes with the 2026 Mets.
Oh, and Juan Soto left with a side/back ailment. Though perhaps the real injury is to his pride from having to be a party to this shambling horror show.
By that metric, we should all be on the IL.
Oh man. We who did not attend or watch salute you.
What in the living Hell is wrong with this franchise?
It could be argued that Pete Alonso’s feeble toss to Senga last June was Mrs. O’Leary’s cow knocking over that lantern…
I’ve tried to be patient. But I go back to the saying, “Hope is not a strategy.”
Stearns’ entire offseason seems to have been based on hope.
Hope that Senga could look like the pitcher from early last year and 2023
Hope that Peterson would look like 1st half 2025 rather than 2nd half
Hope that Polanco with a history of leg injuries wouldn’t have leg injuries
Hope that Robert Jr with a history of injuries wouldn’t have injuries
Hope that Semien, showing all the signs of an aging player in decline wouldn’t continue to decline as an aging player
The only 2 major non-hope moves he made were Peralta and Bichette – reasonably young and with dependable track records. Somehow even those moves have been failures, despite Bichette’s recent awakening.
At least Ewing and Benge are showing something. Baty and Vientos sure aren’t.
I’ll write about this again in more detail when I can stand it, but I do have some sympathy for Stearns.
My hypothesis is he’s put his faith in the next wave of prospects but knew they were more of a 2027 crop than a 2026 one. So the Mets tried to paper over a transitional year, hoping they’d get enough best-case outcomes to go to the playoffs without affecting the long-term plan. Not an awful idea, in my view. Understandably, Stearns didn’t want to talk that up as the plan — “paper over and hope” isn’t a terribly compelling message anywhere, let alone in New York.
It’s all gone pretty badly with the mercenaries, as you detail above. Peralta is a huge disappointment; Bichette has at least fought his way back to “wait and see.”
Internally, Baty, Vientos and Senga have all moved into the “let’s move on” category, Peterson’s step backward is a big disappointment (though I have to assume he’s hurt again), and Alvarez remains a tease. I don’t put those reversals on Stearns, necessarily, but they certainly have hurt both the short-term and longer-term plans.
Yes, thank God for Benge and Ewing. And McLean is at least working through normal young-pitcher ups and downs.
I have zero sympathy for Stearns and want him gone yesterday. Cohen can follow suit. Not match Baltimore’s offer for Pete Alonso (if not exceed it)? Unforgivable. Not to mention the other myriad stupid moves (Nimmo for Semien, not keeping the pitching and first base coaches, the horrendous starting pitching staff, etc etc).
We constantly heard from Mendoza how Soto’s hand hurt ONLY when he swings and misses. And nobody thought this extremely odd? And that it would not lead to something else?
Sigh…
Those of us who remember an episode of The Twilight Zone entitled The Mighty Casey, Senga is the living embodiment of the robot pitcher, Casey. He struck everybody out until he was given a heart. Then he felt sorry for the hitters and no longer had the will to ruin their careers. Gopher ball after gopher ball. I recommend watching this episode. It’s certainly more enjoyable than watching the Mets.
Great episode, filmed in Wrigley Field in L.A. where they used to hold the black and white Home Run Derby shows in the 60s.
In real life, the robot pitcher was actually in jail for murder, and I believe he died in jail a couple of years ago at age 88.
I would like for all these injuries to NOT become an excuse to retain Mendoza and Stearns…. especially Mendoza.
I was actually looking forward to seeing what a lineup with Lindor, Soto, Bichette, Benge, Ewing, Alvarez, Baty could do. But Lindor and Soto seem to be on a trade-off merry-go-round where one returns from an injury just as the other goes out with an injury. Like them, we can’t get off the ride either – we’re doomed to keep going round and round until the next brass ring, whoever he may be, appears.
I don’t know how the Mets will arrange the outfield if Juan has to sit out. Is Tyrone Taylor available yet? As for the infield, why move Bichette back to third? If you have to move him off shortstop ( which they do) please move him to second ( where he played during the post-season last year)and sit Semien. Give Baty third base; it’s his natural position and although he’s not a gold glover, he was developing fairly well there before the Mets blew up the infield for no reason at all except to “break up the core.” Jeff McNeil would be a godsend right now, and they got nothing for him.
Among the many moves the Mets made in the off-season based on magical thinking was the hope that Vientos could play first base (or any base, for that matter). He can’t. I think they might have been able to move him last year at the deadline; it will be harder this year and if they can’t do that they should bench him or only use him as a DH. First base looks impossible to solve right now; they are going to have to sign or trade for an actual first baseman who can hit for power and be at least passable on defense. (More magical thinking that Polanco could be the answer, as he had almost no experience at first, even without his injuries.)
The Mets are getting the season they deserve given the carelessness and arrogance with which they approached 2026. Forget injuries, the actual PLAN was to sign or trade for aging players (Semien, Polanco); play them out of position (Polanco, Bichette); and rely on Baty and Vientos to fill in all the holes all of that created. It was a bad plan to begin with. Once Soto, and then Lindor, went out, they didn’t have any chance of making it work. But Alonso and Nimmo were getting old, and at some point further down the road the Mets might have faced some tough decisions, and might have wound up eating their contracts. How much better it is to eat the contracts this year of Peralta, Polanco, Robert and likely Bichette after throwing millions at them! And yet somehow the Mets in all their smugness didn’t think it was worth even negotiating with Alonso.
“…do I have to?”
So, are you going?