Carlos Mendoza—taking the fall for a deflation not of his making.

On opposite coasts, two baseball men met their unmakers toward the end of last week. One was a manager, the other was a general manager. Both weren’t exactly the prime issues with their bottom feeders.

Met and Angel fans had reason enough to feel a bit of relief after, respectively manager Carlos Mendoza and GM Perry Minasian. But they also had reason to feel frustrated. Mendoza wasn’t the problem with the Mess. Minasian wasn’t the entire problem with the Angels.

Not even bellying up to a bar and getting blinder-than-Ray-Charles drunk would compel anyone to call Mendoza and Minasian the second coming of Casey Stengel or Branch Rickey. But would the same drunk accuse either of being the second coming of Matt Williams or Frank Lane?

Strap someone into the witness chair under oath and neither he nor she will say Mendoza was mistake-free without facing perjury charges. He was executed two days after a comedy of errors against the Cubs while losing 10-5 prompted enough remaining Met fans in Citi Field and about a hundred thousand times that many out of the ballpark to clamour for Mendoza’s head at last.

But Mendoza wasn’t the man who assembled this menagerie of mismatched Mets. It wasn’t Mendoza who pinked half his coaches last winter. Including and especially pitching coach Jeremy Hefner, long since hired to that job by the National League East-leading Braves. It wasn’t Mendoza who let Pete Alonso walk into the free agency arms of the Orioles or Edwin Díaz walk into those of the Damned Dodgers. It wasn’t Mendoza who traded Jeff McNeil and Brandon Nimmo away.

And it wasn’t Mendoza who brought in successors who’d underperform and/or end up on the injured list along with one of the two best remaining Mets, Francisco Lindor. That’s on president of baseball operations David Stearns. The same David Stearns who turned a far lesser budget into consistent success in Milwaukee, once upon a time. But, now, the same David Stearns who’s proving only that if you give him a superbudget he has an apparent knack for shopping the wrong aisles for the wrong merchandise.

Too many new faces came to equal too many parts to build a car that couldn’t or wouldn’t run. This year’s Mets are baseball’s Yugo. All of a sudden, the sorry condition of the 162-224, 2023-2025 White Sox seem even more like ancient history. The White Sox today are at the top of the American League Central heap. The NL East, and everyone else in the Show, have heaped upon the Mess.

Under interim manager (and former Padres manager turned Mets farm director) Andy Green, the Mets finished play Sunday having lost two out of three, with Kyle Schwarber abusing them to become the fastest in Phillies history to hit his 30th home run of a season.

Don’t say things can only look up from here until or unless Stearns turns last week’s trade of once-successful, lately-struggling pitcher David Peterson to the Cubs into a respectable heap of on-the-fly rebuilding pieces by way of continued trade deadline-approach activity. The optimism isn’t exactly high.

Perry Minasian—how far behind his back did the Angels’s owner tie his arm?

On the same day the hapless Mendoza met the managerial gallows, Minasian met likewise on the opposite coast, right before the Angels met their longtime left coast rivals the Athletics and got slapped around, 9-3.

Minasian wasn’t exactly the willful demolition expert the likes of Lane, John Holland, M. Donald Grant, Woody Woodward, Dave Littlefield, Cam Bonifay, and Randy Smith proved to be. In all fairness, he operated under the ten-thumbed handicap of the Angels’s owner, Arte Moreno, whose pre-baseball marketing success compelled him to assemble baseball teams according to marketability first and baseball cohesion second through tenth.

It’s only fair to call Minasian out on such mistakes as almost constantly trading any Angels future for hurrying prospects to the parent club so fast it became debatable whether those who looked like real comers down on what remained of the farm would have better than replacement-level success in the Show.

But it probably wasn’t Minasian who insisted upon such blunderful moves as . . .

* Drafting all pitchers in 2021 and watching most of them become trade pieces, injury-addled, or out of affiliated baseball entirely.

* Firing manager Joe Maddon during a twelve-game losing streak to end a tenure in which Maddon (and perhaps anyone else) couldn’t overcome a lack of pitching depth and a crowd of injuries.

* Going all-in at the trade deadline during Shohei Ohtani’s final Angels season . . . but not dealing Ohtani for the badly-needed reinforcement of prime prospects and major league-ready top talent he could have drawn.

* Putting six players onto the waiver wire a month after that all-in deadline—including two of the deadline acquisitions.

* Continuing not to turn the healthy version of Mike Trout into a trade piece that, like Ohtani, would have brought badly needed youth back to commence or continue that badly-needed team and organisational overhaul.

As The Athletic‘s Sam Blum phrased it, “Minasian inherited a bad organisation and left it a disastrous one.” Really, though, Minasian probably spent his entire Angels tenure, loyal though he was to Moreno, with the proverbial arm tied behind his back.

Moreno still can’t decide whether to invest like the large market owner he is or the small market owner too many former Angel personnel have suggested he’s become. Meanwhile, the Angels spent the first weekend of the post-Minasian era taking two of three from the A’s, with Josh Lowe’s first career salami slice all the runs they needed to win, 4-1.

Will Green prove to be the manager the Mets need to stabilised while retooling? Or, will the Mets hunt other candidates, send Green back to running the farm, and put Stearns on a crazy short leash depending upon his trade deadline work? Will they hire Alex Cora as Green’s permanent successor? Carlos Beltran? Hall of Famer-in-waiting Albert Pujols? Rob Thomson?

Will John Mozeliak—who worked in the Cardinals front office for the entirety of Pujols’s original eleven seasons there, and built their 2011 World Series winner—use his interim GM time with the Angels for more than just to oversee the draft and the trade deadline? Will he leave his permanent successor, maybe, with Pujols in the manager’s chair after incumbent Kurt Suzuki’s single-year contract expires?

Forgive Mets and Angels fans if they’re putting their heads between their knees instead of answering.