Wow. So quite a bit has happened since we last caught up. As I’d mentioned I’d sort of involuntarily “opted out” of the fraudulent 2020 season that while deeply unsatisfying in so many ways, is already one of the most consequential for us in orange-and-blue (and in red-white-and-blue too, but that’s another regrettable nightmare that mercifully appears very close to an end as well).
Let’s recap a few things I missed real quick
Goodbye Fred and Jeff
Beat it. I mean, GTFO.
I’m not overstating it even a little bit when I say the Wilpons’ stunning incompetence and inability to learn despite making the same mistakes over and over and over again had so badly damaged my enthusiasm for the club I was losing interest in something as natural and enjoyable as this goofy little project. I understand that there’s no sure bets in life and financial realities interfere from time to time, but it was never too big an ask that an owner avoid actively making the process of rooting for a team you love an exercise in futility and self-hatred. How hard could it be to sell the Mets to Mets fans?
Don’t answer till you consider these guys not once but twice failed to execute a sale of the team (remember the Einhorn debacle?) mainly because they couldn’t NOT interfere. I’ve been re-reading THE WORST TEAM MONEY COULD BUY recently and reminded that Fred was screwing things up back then too, a pattern that would continue for nearly 30 years. Stunning! Most recently the stealth coup that landed the Mets most recently with a green chair-throwing general manager who promptly mortgaged the future for a steroid case, let a terrific starting pitcher walk to a division rival, screwed up his only chance to name a field manager, and leaves a worse team than he found.
Thank goodness Steve Cohen had the sense to give Sandy Alderson a chance to rescue the team once again. Did you notice Terry Collins and Omar Minaya are also out? What a turn of events. I’m not on the Cohen Crack like everyone else quite yet but his performance so far indicates he’s at least diagnosed many of the same problems we fans have (how hard could that be?) and I’m confident things cannot possibly get worse than they’ve been.
Other Comings and Goings
Sandy and his non-existent front-office team so far have signed a decent relief pitcher (Minnesota’s Trevor May, who seems like a swell guy and as mid-career bullpenners go, not a bad shot), invited a bunch of intriguing guys to Spring Training (OF Mallex Smith, SS Jose Peraza, RP Arodys Vizcaino) and picked up a lottery ticket or two including a 6-foot-7 minor league reliever called Sam McWilliams. The qualified offer to Marcus Stroman was accepted raising the possibility they’ll have a No. 0 after all. This week they got contracts done or offered to fringe 40-man guys that by now include the exasperating Omar-Era Holdover Steven Matz and outfielder Guillermo Heredia whose garbage-time arrival in September wasn’t even noted in our numerical rosters till just now. Sorry about that. He wears 15. Brian Dozier, whom I’d forgotten was ever a Met, no longer does. Chasen Shreve got whacked. So did Paul Sewald.
May by the way wore 65 in Minnesota, which belongs to the damaged Robert Gsellman.
And Now
The Mets have lots of possibilities again. Brodie didn’t necessarily screw up everything beyond what ought to have been decent chances this year and last, thanks mainly to the core assembled by his predecessor and successor.
Cohen has said he’d open up the checkbook so it seems likely they could add a pitcher like Trevor Bauer, reassembling a slate of strong starting pitching they had until Brodie interfered (and possibly interiting the No. 47 surrendered by Shreve). George Springer is available as is uni No. 4, uselessly occupied by Jed Lowrie for two friggin years. J.T. Realmuto (no. 10 in Philadelphia) might catch on, but someone new will at any rate.
We could see some new coaches (were the Wilpons so dumb that thinking did a hitting coach could work from home?) and front office personnel, a trade or two. I’ll try and pay attention.
Take Juan Lagares as one example. As we know, the erstwhile Met, until not long ago the most tenured figure on the club, was issued the humiliating No. 87 and appeared as a pinch runner. His 12? That belongs to Eduardo Nunez, whom I’ve forgotten was/is a Met, just another disabled one for the moment. They tried to right this injustice a day later by issuing Lagares the freed-up 15 most recently belonging to released Brian Dozier and his .133 batting average, only to release Lagares once Andres Gimenez and Michael Wacha and David Peterson and Jake Marisnick returned.
Guys are coming and going every day: third- and fourth-string catchers like Ali Sanchez and Patrick Mazeika, resplendent in Nos. 70 and 76– along with 87, a first-ever issue for an active Met. Walker Lockett up and back. Drew Smith. Corey Oswalt. It’s all a big free-for-all. Joining soon, maybe today, perhaps tomorrow, is the Cuban outfielder Guillermo Heredia, picked up from Pittsburgh. The Mets list his assignment (temporarily, I hope) as 00. Heredia bats right and throws left, a perfect sort of oddball for this whacky year.
Above all, it’s hard to tell what the heck is going on with the team in general. The lineup can hit but can’t score, the bullpen is full of good arms that are unreliable and nobody knows who’s starting. Gsellman and Lugo both are in the rotation. Matz is in the bullpen, or something like it. McNeil’s head is up his ass. Alonso looks horrible except when he doesn’t. Dom Smith is an MVP candidate. Opponents you expect to be formidable, like the Red Sox and Yankees and Nationals, aren’t, and it’s still a monumental struggle. The Marlins outhustle you. You’re just a couple game out of first and would make the playoffs if they began today but have played most of the year like shit.
The 2020 Mets are pretty dreadful so far, giving back both games to an equally awful-looking Boston club this week and demonstrating they’ve solved none of the problems Brodie’s signature trade presented them with, namely, an old and declining second baseman who jams up the middle of the order, and a closer with great stuff, no control and no consistency whose once again devouring the confidence fans and teammates. They also whiff too often, execute poorly, don’t field well and give leads back.
Joining this disappointing group this week were outfielder Ryan Cordell (in for another injured Brodie acquisition, Jake Marisnick) and infielder Brian Dozier, a one-time All-Star with a good chance of being this year’s Joe Panik. Cordell is wearing 18 as he did in spring and summer training. Dozier wears 15.
We got one right for a change. Pitcher Marcus Stroman revealed in a tweet that he would wear the rarely-issued No. 0 jersey in 2020, switching from the 7 he’d originally selected but preferred not to wear because he felt it would interfere with memory of Jose Reyes.
We’ll see what Chief Brodie does in his second visit to the Hot Stove in the weeks ahead but between us I’d be pleased were we to retain Zack Wheeler then figure out what to do next. It’s been signaled that the Mets are shopping for a real center fielder, which to me seems like a pretty good idea, while upgrading the defense behind the plate would also help.
It’s a move with something for everyone: Fans get a figure they loved; players get a guy who engenders reverential respect; Brodie gets a back-page win and enhances his brand of bold unpredictability; Fred gets a white-haired old baseball man; Jeff gets ticket sales and presumably, cover for budget consciousness; and the press gets lots to write about and a return of not one but two good quotes.
And speaking of those who won’t be back and for that matter of center fielders from Puerto Rico, the Mets have made it official they were parting ways with Juan Lagares, who started off better than anyone expected but who also would progress less than might have been hoped. Juan played more games wearing No. 12 than all but J
This Stroman fellow, you may know, is noted for the unusual No. 6 he wears on his Blue Jays duds. This he related, owes to his grandmother’s birthday (March 6) and portends a showdown with current occupant Jeff McNeil. The Mets have never had a single-digited pitcher, though positional players pitching (Desi Relaford in 8 and Todd Zeile in 9, also Jose Reyes in 7) have made appearances.
Will Stroman celebrate granny’s birthday a day later and take the vacant 7? Would he and McNeil make some kind of a side deal? Will 34 and 45 and 44 and 39 and 21 suddenly become available?
The Mets are a wreck again, determined to waste unbelievable years from a core of young players, while little has changed since last week’s coach firing squad and subsequent reporter-threatening-fake-contrition act. The bullpen still stinks under new pitching coach Phil Regan and returning bullpen coach Ricky Bones and as a result they remain a rotten road club that’s going backwards in the standings when they had every opportunity to move up.
Regan was given the same No. 58 removed from Dave Eiland a week but the Mets should have played along and given him No. 82. Bones, who replaced Chuck Hernandez, was given the same No. 25 he’d worn in his previous role, while Hernandez surrendered No. 59. A new “pitching strategist,” Jeremy Accardo, is wearing No. 60. It hasn’t helped.
With Noah Syndergaard set to return after missing two starts with a hamstring issue, Walker Lockett was up and down in 61. Yesterday the Mets promoted a guy called Chris Mazza and gave him No. 74. When Mazza appears it will be the first appearance of that stupid number in club history.
Can the Mets be fixed? I don’t think so. There are a few things overhanging this season that are casting an ominous shadow. Chief among them is the idea that the offseason’s alleged “big bang” has been a complete disaster with Edwin Diaz unreliable at the top, and Robinson Cano stifling the offense by hitting third every night despite being one of the worst everyday players in the league. Let’s just admit it: The Mets would better off having not made that trade in the first place; instead they bet their whole identity on it.
Speculation as to when the club fires Mickey Callaway is another dark shadow. As we 
This when the big story in our world should be Carlos Gomez’s surprise arrival in No. 91. Yes that’s the first issue of that number in Mets history and apparently refers to a bible verse favored by the erstwhile outfielder and not to his fondness for Butch Goring, evidently a remark by Howie Rose.
Word came in this evening the Mets have come to an agreement with chubby veteran free-agent catcher Wilson Ramos, a longtime Met nemesis who if he can 1) pass the physical and, 2) stay on the field, and, 3) slow the aging process typical for fat catchers in their 30s, just might improve the Mets’ stagnant backstop situation.
What number will he wear? Ramos is a longtime No. 40 and old enough to dictate it, so I can see Jason Vargas changing his shirt. Vargas in fact has already changed once; you might recall before being thrown in in the idiotic JJ Putz deal of 2008-09, Vargas spent a brief period with the Mets wearing 43. That figure was worn last season by ineffective reliever Jamie Callahan, whose season ended with shoulder surgery. He refused to be outrighted to the new Syracuse club and so became a free agent. This is a long way of saying 43 would be available should Vargas want to switch back.
I didn’t update you all on this but of course 27 will available for Juerys Familia next season. I’m no fan of blowing cash on relief pitchers, but if you’re going to you may as well get a guy whose stuff you know and mostly trust and whom the fans admire. Familia ought to make a good team with Edwin Diaz especially if they’re utilized effectively, but count on the Mets to justify the strenuous Cano trade by carefully designating Diaz as the “9th inning guy.” Not said, if Diaz happens to screw the pooch or tear his UCL as acquired relievers with 100-mph heat have from time to time, it’s good to have a backup.
Speaking of reunions the Mets signed Dilson Herrera to a minor league deal. Perhaps if it all goes wrong this year they can trade him to Seattle for Jay Bruce.