I so desperately wanted to write a column previewing the Yankees’ possible run to the World Series that began last night against Cleveland in the American League Division Series. But it’s simply impossible to ignore the precipitous and humiliating demise of the New York Mets, who blew a seven-game lead with 17 games to go. The Metsies are now the only team in Major League history to squander that large a lead with so little time remaining in the season.
The Mets’ fall occurred because of a confluence of factors all converging at exactly the wrong moment, resulting in a perfect storm of athletic ineptitude. Tom Glavine was not only hideous in the final regular season game, but in all three of his final starts, with an E.R.A. hovering in the mid-teens over that stretch. Carlos Delgado never did emerge from a season-long malaise. Lastings Milledge did not provide the youthful spark that Joba Chamberlain, Phil Hughes, Ian Kennedy and Shelley Duncan did for the Yankees; instead he further alienated fans and teammates with his arrogant attitude. Willie Randolph made his share of questionable decisions and failed to light a fire under his underachieving, under-hustling veterans. And Omar Minaya did nothing in-season to bolster an obviously leaky bullpen and a starting rotation relying on ancient relics of past baseball glory (namely Glavine, El Duque and the resilient but injury-prone Pedro Martinez).
But to me, the main culprit of the Mets’ fall from playoff shoo-in to playoff outsider is the talented but enigmatic Jose Reyes. Reyes is the symbol not because he was the worst offender, but because he was supposed to be above such uninspiring play. It wasn’t long ago that Reyes was being compared favorably with Derek Jeter. There were some who called him the best all-around player in baseball. Most were in agreement that – largely because of his speed – Reyes was the most exciting player in baseball. Early in the season, he was on pace to steal 100 bases, a feat that has been unreachable since the 1980s when it seemed like Ricky Henderson and Vince Coleman were doing it every year.
Reyes still ended up with 78 swipes, but that included exactly zero in his team’s final 15 games, not coincidentally when the Mets were going 5-10 and gagging up a division lead they’d held since virtually the first days of the season. Of course, you can’t steal if you don’t get on base. And in September, Reyes amassed an OBP of .279 along with a .205 batting average and five total stolen bases. Reyes’ posted a .251 BA, .316 OBP and 32 SB after the All-Star Break on the heels of a first half that saw him go for .307/.387/46. Wow.
More troubling, though, is Reyes’ attitude that included a number of mental/effort errors. In July, Reyes was pulled from a game for not hustling to first base on a ground ball he thought was going foul. That didn’t stop him from repeating the mistake in subsequent games. He also tried to steal bases at inexplicable moments and incited a fight with Marlins’ catcher Miguel Olivo that helped spark the Marlins in the final regular season game, a game that ultimately eliminated the Mets from playoff contention.
In his column in Monday’s New York Times, esteemed sportswriter George Vecsey coined Reyes “a swaggering, helpless juvenile” and perhaps that is the most accurate way to put it. Reyes is like a child who acts only on impulse, without giving a moment’s reflection to consider the potential ramifications of his actions. Reyes has been described by most who know him as “a good kid,” but perhaps the last word in that assessment is more than just the vernacular of older folks. There are plenty of “good kids” after all who must be reprimanded when they act out. For the most part, Willie Randolph – like an indulgent, private school parent who thinks his progeny can do no wrong – was unwilling to play that role.
Let’s be clear: Reyes’ enthusiasm is part of what makes him not just a good player, but a potentially special one. But those who make the mistake of conflating enthusiasm with lack of appropriate effort are missing the point. You know the way that line of argument goes: “Well, if you tell him to calm down his act, maybe he’ll lose some of his effectiveness.” It seems to me that Reyes is actually missing the kind of enthusiasm for the game that could make him into an outstanding player. He is far more concerned with acting enthusiastic than displaying it in any meaningful fashion. Flailing your arms around, high-fiving in the dugout and inciting bench-clearing brawls is not enthusiasm; it is – on a baseball diamond anyway – either out-of-control behavior or an emotional release. There is even a time and place for those things. But enthusiasm for the game should translate into smart play. Enthusiasm for winning would not tell Reyes to steal third with two outs and David Wright at the dish. It would tell him just the opposite. Believe me, Derek Jeter is plenty enthusiastic about baseball, which is exactly why he doesn’t steal in that situation.
All that being said, Reyes isn’t responsible for all the other things that affected the Mets, most notably a pitching staff that couldn’t get anybody out for the past three weeks. It still almost feels like a nightmare, even to this non-Mets fan. When broadcaster Howie Rose signed off the Mets postgame show on Sunday by saying, “We’ll see you in the spring,” it almost felt like he was joking. Similarly, when SNY, the Mets television network, scheduled its programming for this past Monday, the 6:30-7 p.m. slot was reserved for a Mets playoff preview. Wonder what SNY executives found to replace that show? Maybe a Mets Classic? Perhaps something from 1986 or 1969, the Mets’ only two championship years in their 45-year history.
The Mets’ best hope now is that the Yankees falter in the playoffs to take off some of the heat. Because in a season when some pundits declared that the Mets had taken the town away from the Yanks, the divide appears to be greater than ever.