Yoenis Cespedes [1] said he won’t be speaking to the media [2] this year. If he’s not speaking to the media, he’s not speaking to the fans. C’mon, Yo, talk to us.
You don’t have to say anything substantive. Hardly any of your professional colleagues do when they’re not suggesting what acts of vigilante justice [3] they’d like seen performed on select members of the 2017 Houston Astros. We just like feeling a part of the conversation. Last season, Pete Alonso (have you guys met?) tweeted “#LFGM” and reiterated the message to Steve Gelbs in a postgame interview. We went nuts for it.
To make certain I accomplish nothing with my life, I carved out a half-hour Tuesday evening to watch the Hot Stove Report on SNY. A person couldn’t do less with his time if he tried. Still, I listened attentively when Gelbs chatted with Dom Smith, who captured the essence of baseball playerspeak when he explained how well the Mets “clicked,” “gelled” and “meshed” with one another. “Aren’t those three words that mean the same thing?” my wife asked. Indeed they are. No wonder the next episode of Hot Stove Report will be broadcast live from Roget’s Thesaurus.
It’s not what Smith said. It’s that Smith said it and evinced a happy-to-be-here demeanor that convinced me, baseball viewer back in New York, that my Mets are clicking, gelling and meshing beautifully in Florida. They’re genuinely happy to be there. And if I wasn’t sure, the show concluded with Gary Apple engaged in an intense dialogue with Brandon Nimmo. In a world exclusive, Nimmo revealed to Apple he really hopes to play every day.
That’s all I want from my players in February. Happy horsespit is fine. Acronyms are a bonus. Revelations can come later. Yoenis can surely hang in there for five minutes and tell the beat reporter steno pool that he feels pretty good, that he hopes to stay healthy and that he’s gotta go get his treatment. That will feed the fairly tame beast. Click. Gel. Mesh. Move on.
Once Opening Day rolls around, if Cespedes is back at the ranch, he won’t have anybody but the crashing boars [4] to ignore. If he’s somehow fully physically rejuvenated and swinging at Citi, the talking doesn’t have to go as deep as his best-case scenario swings. Just don’t be the one Silent Sam amid a roster of Garrulous Guses. Don’t make Dom or Brandon or another of your teammates answer for you when you don’t catch up to a fastball at the plate or a sinker in left should we be so lucky so soon to be again graced by your talents. Don’t give Luis Rojas one more detail to master without proper preparation. The mysterious stranger persona is cool to a point. Now and then, though, chime in with a cliché. You felt good out there. You’re healthier than you’ve been in a while. You gotta go get that treatment.
See? That didn’t hurt a bit.