David Lennon: Why every bad month for Mets feels like an existential crisis
Former Mets Brandon Nimmo (currently of the Texas Rangers) and Pete Alonso (currently of the Baltimore Orioles) recently played at Yankee Stadium. Credit: Kathleen Malone-Van Dyke; Jim McIsaac
Is it just harder playing for the Mets?
That’s a question that comes up occasionally, mostly in the middle of a 12-game losing streak, or when the franchise resides in the major-league cellar, and we’ve witnessed both scenarios through the first six weeks of this season.
Much of those discussions have to do with the crushing weight of expectations, as the Mets have a passionate, well-informed fan base that not only is saddled with a history of disappointment but not shy about venting that frustration.
Generations of Mets have talked about the additional pressure of playing at either Shea Stadium or Citi Field — yes, their home ballparks — because they reflexively find themselves bracing for boos that have yet to occur. Sort of like flinching when a buddy feints a punch at your face.
That doesn’t happen in other markets. To some degree in Philadelphia, sure. But not like Queens.
Take it from someone who’s been to them all, repeatedly, over decades. Then you factor in the money spent, with the Mets annually ranking as MLB’s second-highest payroll, and the weight of that investment sits heavily on the players’ shoulders, too.
This is not meant to elicit sympathy for the Mets. They’re richly compensated for their efforts, and through Friday, their total of 15 wins was tied with the Giants for the fewest in baseball. At eight games under .500 (15-23) and 10 1⁄2 games behind NL East-leading Atlanta, there’s no excusing how the Mets have played.
Clearly, the analytical data did not project this sort of system-wide failure for president of baseball operations David Stearns when he assembled the renovated roster in the offseason. But there is a human element tied to performance, and that tends to get overlooked if it’s not scribbled in the margins of those spreadsheets.
The subject came up again this past week with the Bronx visits by Brandon Nimmo and Pete Alonso — two prominent homegrown Mets who didn’t leave the team by choice. Yes, Nimmo ultimately decided to waive his no-trade clause, but with Stearns already having a deal in place with the Rangers and the roster headed for a major shake-up, he was boxed into a corner. Alonso was a free agent, of course, but with the Mets never extending him an offer to return, staying in Queens was off the table.
Nimmo — born and raised in Cheyenne, Wyoming — played 10 seasons with the Mets after his selection as the 13th overall pick in the 2011 draft. That’s virtually a lifetime in the organization, so it was interesting to hear what amounted to an exit interview last week at Yankee Stadium.
Nimmo planned on being a forever Met. The eight-year, $162 million extension he signed would have carried him through 2030, his age 38 season. Instead, he’s now the rightfielder and leadoff hitter for the Rangers, a franchise much different from the one Nimmo left behind.
The experience has opened his eyes to how unique the Mets are compared with other places, tougher to handle in many respects. Nimmo described his Texas experience as a “whole lot easier” and “more laid back” than playing for the Mets, and that’s something he never understood when he was fully immersed in Queens baseball.
“I grew up in it, so I didn’t know any different,” Nimmo said. “But now I do. New York’s always been that town where they said, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere, and I believe that even more now. It just takes a special kind of player, a special kind of person, and it can be overwhelming if you haven’t dealt with New York much in the past.”
Nimmo ran down a quick list that wasn’t all that surprising — traffic, travel logistics, the daily media demands — but also mentioned “the outward appearance of social-media profiles,” which is a relatively new wrinkle.
The Flushing franchise isn’t alone when it comes to internet scrutiny, but the phenomenon known as “Mets Twitter” along with its Reddit incarnations can sway the cultural zeitgeist around the team, especially during stretches like this current down period.
Even with all that, Nimmo and Alonso figured out how to navigate the Flushing minefield. Their 2024 Mets shook off a two-month nosedive (11 games under .500 on Memorial Day) to rally for a wild-card berth, which was followed by a wild October romp that got them to Game 6 of the NLCS.
With this year’s Mets digging a similar hole, that ’24 rebound should remind us that this season isn’t over. But it’s possible that Stearns’ objective to start over with a mostly new roster this season — one no longer stained by last September’s collapse — could backfire, as many of these imported players haven’t been battle-tested in Queens.
“One of the best things you can do in New York is not panic,” Nimmo said. “Bad things are going to happen. There’s going to be some tough times, but we’re going to push through it and we’re going to keep trying to control the process.”
The Mets kept repeating that mantra through a miserable April. Believing it, however, was another story. Even someone with New York experience in Luke Weaver, who pitched three years for the Yankees before signing with the Mets last offseason, quickly realized how different life is on the other side of the RFK Bridge.
The Yankees face tremendous pressure, too. But they also have a streak of 33 consecutive winning seasons, missing the playoffs only six times during that span, along with the foundation of 27 World Series titles.
When the Mets have a bad month, or a humbling stretch, it becomes an existential crisis for the franchise, something Weaver reflected on after they snapped the 12-game losing streak.
“We already carry a lot of weight,” he said. “It’s a weird way to look at it, but the harder you try a lot of times, the more you fail. I think it’s just relaxing, understanding what you do well, staying within yourself — and at the end of the day, just keep hoping.”
After playing with clenched teeth for two weeks, the Mets finally got the chance to exhale when that streak ended. But the mental hurdles that Weaver alluded to continue to exist for this team, just has they have for just about every edition of the Mets since their creation in 1962.
Those obstacles just feel more pervasive now and can’t be erased by Steve Cohen’s billions, as much as he’s tried to use that cash to smooth the path to October.
“This pursuit of perfection is just an ultimate pressurized failure mindset,” Weaver said. “I think it becomes everybody wants to be the hero, because we care and we want to win really, really bad. And I just don’t think success lives in that realm.”
The Mets don’t need to be perfect to salvage this season, but they’ve reduced their margin for error to near-microscopic levels. Still, beating the odds — and the franchise’s own demons — is something the Mets have managed to do when everyone least expects it.
“I’ve played there before when things weren’t going well,” Nimmo said, “and it’s not fun.”
David Lennon is an award-winning columnist, a voter for baseball's Hall of Fame and has covered six no-hitters, including two perfect games.
