Welcome, THB Class of 2024!

Oh, it was a fun year. Such a fun year! The fuel light came on and the engine quit a little ways short of the Promised Land, but what a joyride until then! We got 34 new Mets, five of them making their MLB debuts. Some look like pieces of the future, others remind us that the 2024 team took a while to come into focus, and a few you may not remember at all. But isn’t it always that way?

(Background: I have three binders, long ago dubbed The Holy Books by Greg, that contain a baseball card for every Met on the all-time roster. They’re in order of arrival in a big-league game: Tom Seaver is Class of ’67, Mike Piazza is Class of ’98, Francisco Alvarez is Class of ’22, etc. There are extra pages for the rosters of the two World Series winners, the managers, ghosts, and one for the 1961 Expansion Draft. That page begins with Hobie Landrith and ends with the infamous Lee Walls, the only THB resident who didn’t play for the Mets, manage the Mets, or get stuck with the dubious status of Met ghost.)

Welcome lads!

(If a player gets a Topps card as a Met, I use it unless it’s a truly horrible — Topps was here a decade before there were Mets, so they get to be the card of record. No Mets card by Topps? Then I look for a minor-league card, a non-Topps Mets card, a Topps non-Mets card, or anything else. That means I spend the season scrutinizing new card sets in hopes of finding a) better cards of established Mets; b) cards to stockpile for prospects who might make the Show; and most importantly c) a card for each new big-league Met. Eventually that yields this column, previous versions of which can be found here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.)

Let’s get to it, shall we?

Harrison Bader: A superlative center-fielder with a question-mark bat, Bader’s shoulder-waggle strut — cocksure to the point of performative, and complemented by those lilac gloves — made me laugh regardless of scoreboard or standings. I loved doing the Bader Walk in our living room after Harrison did something notable and repurposed an old Simpsons bit in his honor, pretending to be the opposing manager: “Look at him strutting around like he’s cock of the walk! Well, let me tell you, HARRISON BADER IS COCK OF NOTHING!” (Not true: He was one of the merry ringleaders of the Zesty Mets.) Bader is a free agent and headed elsewhere; I hope his new city enjoys him as much as we did. 2024 Topps card in which he’s beardless, a giveaway that it’s a Photoshopped image of him as a Yankee. I’m not happy about it either.

Jorge Lopez: A gawky middle reliever, Lopez’s exit from the roster will go down in team lore as a turning point of the season and a key moment in learning about David Stearns and his regime. Which, to paraphrase Absence of Malice, isn’t true … but is accurate. If the details have grown hazy, Lopez pitched pretty well for the season’s first two months, then got shellacked by the Dodgers on May 29 and ejected. His reaction was to fling his glove over the netting, and a postgame interview made things worse: What Lopez meant to say came out a little mangled, but the gist was that the Mets were the worst team in the whole fucking MLB, or Lopez was the worst teammate in the whole fucking MLB, or some combination of the two. Rather than pounce, the beat reporters gave Lopez chances to clarify his remarks, none of which he took. He was DFA’ed the next day with Carlos Mendoza talking about standards. At that point the Mets had lost 15 of 19 and pretty much were the worst team in the WFMLB. But though we didn’t know it yet, the bad times were over and the dizzy, giddy rocket ride that was the rest of the season was about to begin. That’s the story, but if told fairly it’s not that simple. Lopez was clearly struggling with his emotions after the game, which he had a history of — he’d been put on the 15-day IL as a Twin to address mental health. That’s not a disparagement — baseball has evolved and so have we, and we’re all better for it. Lopez also has a son who suffers from a rare disease requiring regular hospital visits and multiple transplants; cruelly, the day of the implosion was his son’s 11th birthday. None of that was a reason for Lopez to keep his job, but it’s context to keep in mind and be kind about. Happily, Lopez was picked up by the Cubs and pitched well; he’ll be a National in 2025. 2022 Topps card as an Oriole.

Michael Tonkin: Greg and I are both fond of Recidivist Mets, players who return to our roster for another go-round. But Tonkin took earning that status to an extreme. The already much-traveled reliever — Twins, Nippon Ham Fighters, Rangers, Brewers, Long Island Ducks (twice), Diamondbacks, Toros de Tijuana, Braves — pitched in three early games, the second a disaster that was scoreless rolling into the 10th but became a 5-0 loss. Tonkin was excused further duty after one more outing, picked up by the Twins and pitched poorly, then returned to duty with the Mets and was last seen hosing out the stables during a 10-0 loss in LA. He became a Yankee, his third organization (fourth if you want to be pedantic) of a season whose calendar hadn’t turned to May. Tonkin pitched pretty well in the Bronx over the summer (though we hung a loss on him), got designated for assignment, and wound up … back with the Twins. I’m sure he found the whole thing as ridiculous as the rest of us did. An old card as a Ham Fighter. Everyone deserves a card as a Ham Fighter!

Luis Severino: I was not a fan of the Mets signing Severino, a Yankee phenom turned medical chart. That had nothing to do with Severino and everything to do with scar tissue from the Wilpon era. Because what was more Wilponian than happy talk that a broken-down pitcher could return to his glory years? And a former Yankee, no less! But Severino wisely didn’t try to return to what had worked in his youth, instead emphasizing his sinker and pairing it with a sweeper. He pitched somewhere between ably and quite well for the Mets, running out of steam in the postseason but with plenty of company in that regard. He then declined a qualifying offer and signed a hefty contract with the A’s. I personally wouldn’t sign up to pitch in a minor-league park for three years, but nobody’s ever offered me $67 million to do anything, so what do I know? 2024 Topps card as a Photoshopped Yankee. Did Topps have time to get an actual shot of Severino as a Met? Yes, but they’re now a monopoly and the quality has gone in the direction any econ professor would tell you to expect when monopolies are tolerated.

Zack Short: Mark Vientos was one of the best stories for the 2024 Mets, but they sure took their time finding their way to the right answer. Short was one of the false starts, a career .174 hitter who parlayed a solid spring training into a spot on the Opening Day roster over Vientos … then went 1 for 9 and was sold to the Red Sox once J.D. Martinez was ready. Short didn’t do anything in Boston and wound up as a Brave, so of course he hit .370 the rest of the way with a pair of walk-off homers against the Mets … oh wait, that’s the paranoia talking. He actually hit .148 for Atlanta, though he did face us in May and scored two runs off walks, but Brandon Nimmo walked off future Met A.J. Minter so all ended well. 2022 Topps card as a Tiger.

Tyrone Taylor: An import from Milwaukee, Taylor doubled with Bader in the defensive center-fielder/fourth outfielder role, which has been a revolving door for years. Taylor stopped the Mets’ season-opening losing streak by walking off the Tigers and his bat heated up down the stretch, making him a starter and Bader an afterthought. His AB in the Francisco Lindor Game was a critical turning point, a Dunstonesque 11-pitch epic that resulted in a double and sent Spencer Schwellenbach to the showers. He’s the first player in this year’s chronicle who’ll be a Met again in 2025. 2024 Topps Card as a Photoshopped Brewer.

Jake Diekman: A red-bearded itinerant reliever who walked too many guys, Diekman arrived having revived his career as a Tampa Bay Ray. That’s generally begging for trouble, as Rays pitcher whispering tends to stop working once exported, and so it was with Diekman, who caused no end of Met-fan agita before getting DFA’ed near the end of July. With one glorious exception: With the Mets clinging to a 3-2 lead over the Yankees, Diekman was entrusted to retire Trent Grisham, Juan Soto and Aaron Judge and secure the save in the Bronx. Which he somehow did, erasing Judge with a fastball on the hands. It was the best pitch of Diekman’s Mets tenure, and if you ever see him out in the wild, you owe him a beer. Topps Heritage card as an Oakland A.

Yohan Ramirez: A new Mets trend is having relievers earn their stripes with the team by exacting vengeance — see Yoan Lopez a couple of years ago against the Cardinals, and Ramirez in 2024 against old friend Rhys Hoskins. Ramirez’s pitch behind Hoskins’ back earned him an ejection and a suspension … and was probably the most effective pitch he delivered in New York. He was an Oriole by Tax Day, made a Tonkinesque return to New York in May and was terrible again, then was terrible for the Dodgers and Red Sox before signing on with the Pirates. Good luck everybody! Old Topps Heritage card as a Mariner.

Sean Manaea: A lefty hurler with Samoan ancestry and an all-West Coast track record, Manaea arrived in New York trying to rebuild his career after the Giants couldn’t decide what to do with him. Pitched pretty well for the Mets in the first half of the season (though he did cut off his fabulous mane), but really caught fire after he watched Chris Sale mowing hitters down with Atlanta and decided, “I could do that.” And indeed he could: Manaea changed his arm slot and his pitch mix and was electric the rest of the way. (Well, almost: Like lots of other Mets, he looked gassed in October against the Dodgers.) Let’s review: Manaea decided to reinvent himself as a pitcher in the middle of a season in which he’d already been successful … and it worked. That’s having balls the size of church bells. He was also a delight as a teammate, pirouetting with Bader in dugouts as part of his elaborate handshake routine, beaming in Instagram photos with Lindor’s kids, and generally spreading joy. He opted out of his contract at year’s end but will return on a new deal, and I’ll be overjoyed to see him. 2024 Topps card, Photoshopped. Oh well, now he’ll get another one.

Joey Wendle: Boy did that not work out. Wendle arrived with expectations that he’d be a perfectly cromulent utility guy but was jaw-droppingly wretched as a Met. First came a muffed play at second base that led to an implosion against the Tigers; then at the end of April he inexplicably tried to start a double play on a 49 MPH grounder to third with a speedster at bat and the tying run 50 feet from home plate. The former was a physical error and so forgivable; the latter was a mental one and so raised the question of what Wendle was doing on the roster. The Mets came to the same conclusion and Wendle was excused further duty two weeks later. 2024 Topps card, a souvenir of a brighter world that never came to be.

Adrian Houser: Arrived with Tyrone Taylor after looking serviceable as a member of the Brewers’ rotation, another move that didn’t work out. Houser was pretty good in his first start but horrible after that, becoming a Tommy Milone 2.0 metronome of suck. He lost his starting job at the beginning of May and was a bit better in the Mike Maddux role of banished long man, but anything short of “spontaneously combusted while signing autographs for orphans” would have counted as “a bit better.” Houser was DFA’ed in late July and last seen posting a 9+ ERA in Triple-A with the Orioles. Got a 2024 Topps Update card, which annoyed me despite being useful for THB purposes, as I never wanted to think about him again.

Julio Teheran: Here’s a difference between the new regime and the Wilpons. The Mets brought in Teheran, a former Braves star derailed by injuries, to pitch against Atlanta on April 8 and he got tattooed. (Though the Mets somehow won that particular barnburner.) The Wilpons would have kept Teheran around until midsummer, ignoring the can’s scratches and dents and the stack of ever-smaller price tags affixed to it and ignoring questions about whether that gross stuff leaking through a rusty seam was safe for human consumption. The Cohen-Stearns regime thanked Teheran for his lone evening of service and sent him off with what I presume was a thoughtful parting gift. Some old Topps Heritage card as an Angel, secured because I refused to admit him to THB as a Brave.

Cole Sulser: Don’t remember a thing about him. The record shows he put up a 9.64 ERA in four appearances, so that’s for the best. 2022 Topps card as a Marlin. It’s a horizontal; I should probably fix that.

Dedniel Nunez: We’ve already been through such familiar roster niches as the late-inning defensive center fielder and the middle relievers with early-spring sell-by dates. Now for a happier one: the unheralded guy who becomes essential. That was Nunez, a lifelong Met farmhand (not counting a season as a Giants Rule 5 pick that he lost entirely to Tommy John) who’d flunked his initial go-round at Triple-A but got the call after looking a lot better in 2024. Nunez quickly became a reliable arm out of the bullpen, which was badly needed given injuries and ineffectiveness. Unfortunately, he was felled by a strained forearm tendon that limited him to one appearance after late July. Imagine if we’d had a healthy, non-gassed Nunez against the Dodgers! But this is missing the point: Imagine bemoaning this what-if back in spring training when only veteran roster hounds had any idea who Nunez was! Anyway, the last update about Nunez was that he’d thrown some bullpens and BP in the Dominican Republic academy, which … doesn’t sound particularly promising. Got a ridiculous two-person 2024 Topps card in which he shares space with Tyler Jay; I scorned it and used an old Syracuse Mets card instead.

Tyler Jay: Jay made his big-league debut a couple of weeks before his 30th birthday, completing an unlikely journey that included being out of baseball due to what was eventually diagnosed as eosinophilic esophagitis, a scary sounding inflammation of the throat. That made for a nice story, complete with Jay’s refreshingly jockspeak-free interview after his debut. His three-letter name looked mildly ridiculous due to Nike fucking up the 2024 uniforms — years from now we’ll see a 2024 highlight and go, “What the fuck is wrong with … oh yeah, that’s right.” Anyway, Jay only pitched twice for the Mets in April and once in July before winding up as a Brewer, but don’t tell him 2024 wasn’t a helluva year. Chattanooga Lookouts card due to the Topps shenanigans decried above.

J.D. Martinez: Have bat, will travel — think of J.D. as a bubble-gum-card Shane. Martinez signed on with the Mets shortly before Opening Day, taking the DH job away from Vientos, and made his debut in late April. His season was a strange one: a superb May and June (including his first-ever walkoff homer, which seems impossible), a meh July and August, a disastrous September and a not bad postseason. That adds up to a rather wan statistical record but misses his other contributions: Martinez was like another hitting coach, praised as a hitting savant by Alonso and others and serving as a key mentor for Vientos. That last part may soon be viewed as having been worth $12 million all by itself. 2024 Topps Update card, the first in THB to show a Met wearing City Connect togs.

Danny Young: Proved at least a marginally useful lefty reliever after Brooks Raley was lost for the season, despite often looking vaguely frightened about the assignment. Young was good at times and not so good at other times, which is to say he was a middle reliever; I never really trusted him but also didn’t recoil in horror when he’d arrive. Not Alex Young, another black-bearded lefty reliever. I wonder if the Mets had them room them together, a la the two Bob Millers … oh who am I kidding, MLB players haven’t had to double up for a generation. 2024 Syracuse Mets card.

Christian Scott: Hailed as the future, Scott pitched reasonably well but was frequently snakebit and never recorded his first big-league win in an abbreviated season that frankly struck me as a little underwhelming.  Maybe this is unfair — and if so I’ll gladly admit it when Scott is our ace — but every time I watched Scott pitch, it felt like GKR talked him up like a trio of nervous matchmaking aunts trying to market a basement-dwelling nephew with weird online interests. Scott will have to wait a while to try again for that first win, as his UCL blew out in July and he had Tommy John surgery. He should return in 2026; who knows what he’ll be when he does? 2024 Topps Update card.

Jose Iglesias: OMG! No player better personified the the Mets’ giddy transformation from car wreck to Lamborghini. (I see you with your hand up; for the last time, Grimace doesn’t count as a player.) Iglesias had a dream season, one even more remarkable because it almost didn’t happen. Always known for good hands and superb instincts, Iglesias had spent years as a starter in waiting, signed by clubs as a utility guy and a stabilizing presence and then ascending to a starting role to fill the kind of need that always arises. But by 2023 it looked like that had stopped working: He became a minor-league free agent in June and this time the phone didn’t ring. Iglesias thought about retiring but gave it one more shot with the Mets, where things also didn’t seem to work: He was passed over for a roster spot and convinced not to opt out by Stearns, who promised he’d be the first callup from Syracuse. That came on Memorial Day, with the Mets 10 games under .500; after Iglesias’ arrival the Mets went on a 26-13 tear, reviving their moribund season. Iglesias was a Baez-esque fielding partner for Lindor (witness this late August sprawl-and-kick force against the Padres) and a terror at the plate, particularly in clutch situations. (The highlight: driving in the go-ahead run in the Edwin Diaz restoration game in Arizona, which provided the one-win margin that put us into the playoffs and not them.) Oh, and as Candelita he became a legit pop star, with the bouncy, infectious “OMG” going from clubhouse soundtrack to home-run celebration to the top of the Latin charts and a staple of national-TV Mets footage. Next time an aging slugger continues to erode or a pitching reclamation project doesn’t work out, remember that a utility infielder called up at the end of May once saved our season, ascended to pop stardom and gave us a You Had to Be There on-field concert with his teammates grooving along the first-base line. (Is the best part Pete Alonso’s endearingly awkward vibing, Harrison Bader’s cutoff Mets tee, or both?) Topps gave Iglesias a card in its Living Set, complete with the OMG sign, and this outweighs so many of my other complaints.

Luis Torrens: A wandering backup catcher (honestly that’s redundant), Torrens arrived after the Mets decided they’d seen enough of Omar Narvaez and paid immediate dividends, providing surprisingly potent offense and taming enemy basestealing. The offense didn’t last but the defense did, and Torrens crafted a season highlight by initiating a game-ending 2-3 double play against the Phillies in London. It’s a play I still marvel at months later, one that required baseball instincts and situational awareness and cool under fire: Nick Castellanos dribbled a Drew Smith pitch out in front of home plate, Torrens grabbed it, whirled to find home plate with his foot, whirled back, found a lane connecting himself with Alonso’s glove at first, and made the throw. It’s a play for the top of any catcher’s CV. Topps Heritage card as a Mariner.

Joe Hudson: A backup catcher, Hudson went to London as part of the taxi squad but didn’t get into a game until a couple of weeks later in Chicago, where he caught the 9th inning of a 11-1 Mets win without getting an plate appearance. (The final Cub batter of that game, if you’re curious? Tomas Nido.) The lack of an AB sounds cruel, but it’s a hazard for third catchers, as is never getting into a game at all and becoming a ghost. BTW the Mets had two 2024 ghosts — Matt Gage and postseason phantom Max Kranick — and their all-time ectoplasmic roster now numbers 15. 2024 Syracuse Mets card.

Ben Gamel: A journeyman outfielder known to Stearns from a stint as a Brewer, Gamel spent a month and a half on the roster, mostly as a defensive replacement late in games, and did nothing particularly praiseworthy or blameworthy. 2024 Syracuse Mets card; he has not one but two unique cards from Topps team sets, which were expensive and annoying to track down. This isn’t Gamel’s fault but I’m still a little ticked.

Ty Adcock: Former Mariner pitched well in his first appearance as Met, less well in his second appearance, then got bombed in his third. There wasn’t a fourth appearance. Some old card as an Arkansas Traveler.

Matt Festa: Made his Mets debut in the 11th inning of a 5-5 tie against the Astros; when he left it was 10-5 Astros. Thus did Festa’s Mets tenure begin and end. Ouch. An old Topps Total card as a Mariner.

Eric Orze: A hulking righty (is there any other kind of righty reliever these days?), Orze had spent the last couple of years at Syracuse, often discussed for a callup but never getting one. He finally got his chance in July against the Pirates and it didn’t go well: a walk and two singles, followed by watching glumly from the dugout as Adrian Houser got obliterated and put more runs onto Orze’s ledger. Orze reduced his ERA from infinity a couple of weeks later mopping up against the Braves, but that was it. He was sent to Tampa Bay in the trade for Jose Siri and will now undoubtedly become a highly useful reliever. (Speaking of which, did you know Edwin Uceta and Tyson Miller emerged as reliable bullpen arms elsewhere this year?) Syracuse Mets card.

Phil Maton: Arrived from Tampa Bay at the trade deadline and stabilized the relief corps, though his needle looked like it was on E come the postseason. Maton’s utter lack of affect went from amusing to mildly worrying over time; in the early days I thought “Phil Maton sure is admirably stoic” but later that became “I hope digging under Phil Maton’s porch wouldn’t lead to a horrifying discovery.” Has never had a Topps card, which feels like a mild injustice; in THB he’s an El Paso Chihuahua. I did the best I could, Phil, so please don’t put me under the porch.

Alex Young: Not Danny Young! Pitched pretty effectively down the stretch, but mostly in low-leverage situations, was left off the postseason roster and non-tendered after the season, and will return to the Reds in 2025. Here’s where I put the annual reminder that there are 1,450+ innings in a big-league season and it takes a lot of arms to get through them. (In last year’s THB this reminder was basically the entirety of Reed Garrett’s entry, so you never know what the future holds.) Old Topps Heritage card as a Diamondback.

Ryne Stanek: Looked terrible after arriving at the trade deadline, but righted the ship and was invaluable down the stretch and in the postseason, and will return in 2025. In addition to pitching well, Stanek taught me a valuable baseball lesson; I can’t find it, but somewhere he talked about the things he’d been working on as a pitcher with help from the coaching staff, and how poor results didn’t necessarily mean progress wasn’t being made. That was a point about patience and process that resonated with me; so was this Stanek line about the hazards of long ABs, from the perspective of the guy on the mound: “You only have so many tricks. It makes the at-bat substantially harder when you’ve exposed everything you’ve got.” Topps Heritage card as an Astro.

Jesse Winker: Before he became a Met at the trade deadline, I would have said — albeit with no particular heat — that Jesse Winker was an asshole. Which is not wrong, from a blinkered perspective that misses the point entirely. In fact Jesse Winker is a kayfabe asshole, who understands that there’s a home team and an opposing team and being on the opposing team means you’re the enemy, so you may as well embrace that role and play to the crowd. And why not? Baseball may be humanity’s highest art form but it’s also goofy theater, and far better when all involved have fun with it. I found it interesting that the Mets were delighted beyond the usual collective-endeavor sentiments to add Winker as a teammate, and that the Citi Field crowd quickly embraced him as well, recategorizing his antics as a long-ago Reds villain according to the philosophy sketched out above. Winker’s season highlight was walking off the Orioles and kicking off one of the more epic home-run celebrations in recent memory, complete with an awesome opening spike of the batting helmet. Brian McCann probably had an embolism watching the clip from the sidelines of some tedious golf course, but too bad: Baseball’s way more fun without all the grim frowny gatekeeping. Topps Now card celebrating the above.

Huascar Brazoban: Another trade-deadline acquisition, Brazoban was 34 but seemed a lot younger, his butterflies forming a visible cloud when he was on the mound. (Think of him as the antimatter Phil Maton.) He was the center of a notable moment in San Diego, saucer-eyed and clearly out of sorts as a decent-sized Met lead became smaller and smaller. Which led to Francisco Lindor clapping madly and exhorting Brazoban to bear down and Francisco Alvarez removing his helmet to bark at him from behind the plate. (By the way, when Alvarez came into this world Brazoban was 12 years old.) Brazoban somehow got the last out and his teammates surrounded him on the mound like they’d all won the World Series; while it wasn’t a moment to make me want to invest in Huascar Brazoban futures, it was also kind of sweet. Some card in which he’s a Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp.

Paul Blackburn: A cromulent fifth-starter type, Blackburn was rescued from the A’s at the trade deadline and made five starts — three good, two bad — before taking a line drive off the hand. While rehabbing he developed back woes, which turned out to be a leak of cerebrospinal fluid. That sounds terrifying but apparently isn’t as severe as … no, fuck it, that sounds terrifying. Mysteriously got a 2024 Topps Chrome Update card as a Met.

Pablo Reyes: A club’s last few season debuts usually reflect tinkering at the margins of the roster: subbing out a gassed middle reliever, adding a third catcher, or upgrading a utility infielder/fourth outfielder. The Mets needed to fill the dual role of utility guy/speedy pinch-runner and couldn’t seem to decide how best to do that. Their first choice was Reyes, who entered Sept. 1’s game against the White Sox as a pinch-runner, scored five pitches later on a Starling Marte double, and so concluded his Mets career. Somewhere Dave Liddell is smiling. 2024 Topps card as a Red Sock.

Eddy Alvarez: Plan B in Operation Find a September Utility Guy was Alvarez, so far the most notable winner of an Olympic silver medal for speed skating to suit up for the New York Mets. Alvarez played capable defense though he never recorded a hit, ending the year 0 for 9. Strange but true: He wound up with more strikeouts as a Mets pitcher than hits as a Mets batter, somehow fanning poor Weston Wilson during a scoreless ninth that ended a horrific loss against the Phillies. That’s worth a Faith & Fear bronze at least. Old Topps Heritage card as a Marlin.

Luisangel Acuna: “Baby Acuna” (at least that was his name in our house) was summoned when Lindor’s back acted up and he turned out to be a godsend: solid in the field, more pop than we’d anticipated, and a certain unquantifiable electricity that was a welcome September jolt. Beware small sample sizes (that performance came after an up-and-down year with Syracuse) and keep in mind that Acuna is just 22, but the future looks bright. Impress your friends with the factoid that the Acunas’ father, Ronald Sr., was a Mets farmhand and a teammate of David Wright’s. A terrible Syracuse Mets card; Acuna will get something better soon.