The Mets’ How We Spent Our Winter Vacation essay can be produced in succinct fashion: “We did some signing. We did some trading. We did some retaining.” Given who they signed in December and who they retained in February, that’s a dozen words worthy of a pretty high grade.
Free agents and player swaps are what get the Hot Stove blood flowing, but as we’ve felt in our veins since learning Pete Alonso won’t leave, you can’t sleep on retaining your own when your own have been part of something special.
The Retained Polar Bear needs no further reintroduction [1], but let’s take a moment and appreciate the re-signings of three Mets who wove themselves into 2024’s narrative as the year went on. On the edge of the most recent season, Sean Manaea [2] qualified as a reclamation project; Ryne Stanek [3] was another box on somebody else’s Journeyman Reliever bingo card; and Jesse Winker [4]? We despised that dude!
[5]Now? We recall Manaea as our 2024 rotation ace, Stanek as our 2024 bullpen lifesaver, and Winker? We adore that dude! Still do — all of them. When the Mets re-signed each of them, the images the club posted on social media didn’t just illustrate them in on-field action, but reaction. These guys shouted to the high heavens when they and their teammates succeeded, leading us to our own episodes of frenzy. We don’t want to lose what winning feels like. They were part of one of the most lovable teams of our lifetime, so besides keeping three Mets who we consider good at what they do, we don’t have to let go of too much of that 2024 feeling.
[6]Had agreement not been reached with Alonso, there would have been many practical reasons to baseball-mourn, but the kick to the emotional gut might have left the deepest mark. A lack of Alonso would have massively changed our connection to what we just did. To a lesser extent, bringing back Manaea, Stanek, and Winker prevents a case of the orange-and-blues. You could take a shot at replicating their statistics through other acquisitions, but were the next starting pitcher, the next setup man, and the next DH-OF going to bring that certain something to Citi?
[7]Maybe. But you just don’t know. Really, you just don’t know how personalities and performance will blend from campaign to campaign. In the history of the New York Mets, the years after years that have yielded postseason play have yielded, uniformly, fewer regular-season wins. The second time around is inevitably a challenge. Still, it’s tough to erase the immediate past and write nearly as satisfying a next chapter from scratch.
The Mets didn’t retain Ed Charles for 1970. Try repeating without the poet laureate of 1969. Gil Hodges liked Joe Foy at third base, and Wayne Garrett earned further reps there, too. But it wasn’t the same.
The Mets didn’t retain Kevin Mitchell or Ray Knight for 1987. There was decent rationale within both decisions. Kevin McReynolds was an absolute get when he was got, and Knight’s position, third base, was crowded with potential in the persons of Howard Johnson and Dave Magadan. I understood both transitions. The Mets loomed as stronger on paper going into 1987 than they might have had they tried to run it back with Mitchell and Knight from 1986. But it wasn’t the same.
Not The Same is a tough barrier to overcome from the Mezzanine or Promenade or wherever you’re consuming Mets baseball. Willie Mays retires. Wally Backman is squeezed out to create space for Gregg Jefferies. Todd Zeile isn’t quite John Olerud. Kevin Appier and Steve Trachsel combined aren’t quite Mike Hampton. Moises Alou replaces Cliff Floyd. Neil Walker replaces Daniel Murphy. Bartolo Colon is born to wander to other destinations. Jacob deGrom takes the money and pitches somewhere else (for a few innings, anyway).
[8]The Mets were already tempting fate by unveiling alternate road jerseys that feature the same script they modeled in 1987, the ultimate Not The Same season in franchise lore. You want to send nine players onto the field in shirts that less read as New York than Nope, Not Again. If enough of the players are the guys who did it in the first place — and they’re augmented by a newly signed stud like Soto and assorted other acquisitions (no offense, likes of Griffin Canning and Jose Siri, but everybody’s bound to be “all other” compared to Juan Soto) — you don’t worry so much about Not The Same, because you believe things will be even better. Never mind that only twice has a Met playoff years been succeeded by a different Met playoff year. Spring Training approaches. We’ve got enough of the band back together. We’re here for the enhanced continuity. We’re here for the believing.
A fistful of non-incidental 2024 Mets linger on the free agent market. None among J.D. Martinez, Adam Ottavino, my personal favorite Jose Quintana, or the sidelined-early duo of Brooks Raley and Drew Smith has been mentioned as a possibility to return. I wouldn’t dismiss any of them with “good riddance,” but I get it. Teams move on from players and players move on from teams. I shrugged similarly at the news that Luis Severino landed in Sacramento, Harrison Bader in Minneapolis, and DJ Stewart at the confluence where the Allegheny and the Monongahela form the mighty Ohio. Thank you for your service, fellas. Phil Maton might have been referenced once or twice in mid-winter “should we…?” chatter, but the bullpen appears packed if not stacked (that’s an assessment that’s always up for grabs). Besides, it took me a few weeks after their respective arrivals to remember which one was Stanek and which was Maton. Maton was the one I couldn’t picture shouting like Stanek, Winker, Manaea, or most Mets.
The one überMet of 2024 who’s currently unsigned and carries with him the most appealing Sameness is Jose Iglesias [9]. Jose hit .337 against major league pitching and No. 1 on a couple of Latin music charts. Both were pluses in creating the vibe of the 2024 Mets. I don’t have to spell out what OMG meant to us [10]. I also don’t have to list all the second base candidates this team already maintains under contract, but will: an ascendant Luisangel Acuña; a recovering Ronny Mauricio; a possibly versatile Brett Baty; and a previous champion of batting named Jeff McNeil. Iglesias, 36, is older than the lot of them, just like Knight was senior by a far sight to HoJo and Mags coming off his showstopping 1986.
[11]Beyond the hitting that won him Comeback Player of the Year honors and the World Series MVP trophy, the chemistry of that Mets team pulsated through Knight. We kind of knew it when he was here. We definitely knew it when he was gone, regardless that Johnson blossomed into 30-30 territory and Magadan’s swung quite sweetly. Mitchell didn’t put up numbers on the level of McReynolds in 1987, but by 1989, Mitchell was the National League’s Most Valuable Player and, in terms of personality, there was never any confusing the two Kevins. Metrics count so much, but character counts as well. Had Knight and Mitchell remained Mets a year longer, maybe that old script New York on the new blue road togs wouldn’t give me shivers.
When it comes to ballplayers, you can only keep so much yesterday as you build tomorrow. Some of it you don’t have to think about. For example, the talent and character inhabiting Francisco Lindor figures to fit in any Met year or Met uniform, whereas some ballplayers stock only so much magic in addition to ability from year to year. The OMG secret sauce Jose Iglesias stirred — with pinches of so many Mets included — probably can’t be replicated for a second serving. But, man, don’t you sort of want another taste of what he brought? Or would you rather try some of those fresher ingredients in hope that something more delicious can be created? Days before Pitchers & Catchers, there are no wrong answers.
The idea going into 2025 isn’t to do another 2024, no matter how awesome 2024 was. It’s to come up with something that somehow tops it. You never know what exactly the recipe for what’s better will be.