
Juan Soto—Not his fault.
A choke? Not exactly. More like the Mets stuck a pin in their $340 million blimp, somehow, and it deflated slowly enough, agonisingly enough. The team that started the season as the best and most expensive in Show finished . . .
No, they didn’t go from the top of the mountain all the way to the rocks at the bottom. They did finish second in the National League East. On the surface, that doesn’t look anywhere near resembling terrible. Know how many teams would jump from the top of the Flatiron Building if it meant finishing second for a change?
Why, over yonder in the American League Central, the Tigers could have been called going down harder. On 12 June they had an eight-game division lead over the next in line. At one point, the Guardians were 15.5 games out of first place in the group.
Then the Tigers deflated painfully themselves to settle for a wild card while the Guards dug, clawed, gnawed, and shoved their way back to take a division that once looked like the Tigers’ exclusive possession. But since the Tigers get to meet the Guards in a wild card set, the magnifying glass is over the Mets.
And how.
How on earth did a team finish play on 12 June and sit 21 games over .500, with a Show-best 45-24 record, and five games ahead of the eventual NL East champion Phillies, but go from there to play .408 ball the rest of the way?
How did that come to include a 10-15 September that featured an eight-game losing streak and a season-ending weekend in which they looked as though they’d signed surrender papers instead of commitments to fight for their very baseball lives?
Juan Soto regrouped after early inconsistency to get within two thefts of posting a 40-40 season and finish the year leading the National League in on-base percentage. Francisco Lindor posted a second 30-30 season in three years. Pete Alonso Alonsoed (38 home runs and leading the league in doubles with 41). But . . .
“A few players thought [manager Carlos] Mendoza’s communication was not as sharp as it could be,” said The Athletic‘s Tim Britton and Will Sammon.
Others suggested that he showed some unnecessary panic early in the season when he kept shuffling roles for different players. That will be part of the conversation this winter.
“I really think he’s done everything in his power,” another club source said. “In this market, you want that type of leader: somebody who is steady and going to be honest.”
That doesn’t mean Mendoza’s coaching staff is safe. The Mets’ defense was a season-long issue. While the offense put up good overall numbers, it operated far too often in boom-and-bust cycles. The pitching staff never put it together in the second half, with many of its purportedly reliable arms underperforming.
Let’s not wait ’till next year. They’ll have all winter to solve the coaching staff, the booming-and-busting, the pitching inconsistencies, and the defense that would guarantee a war over five minutes after it begins—with the Mets on the wrong side. How should we begin to outline the manner in which this year’s blimp deflated?
* When Kodai Senga, one of the best pitchers in the game for the season’s first month and a half, exited his 12 June start with a hamstring injury incurred covering first base, was brought back just before the All-Star break instead of getting that one extra minor league rehab start, and looked nothing like that early-season ace from there, ending up in Triple-A to get himself straightened out?
* When the Rays swept them in early June, which didn’t look that ominous—the Mets were 4.5 in front of the National League East and owned that 45-25 record going in—until you saw the bullpen’s meltdown over the set, and began to get the awful feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time the pen would prove the cobras’ own mongooses? (C’mon, Mr. Webster, make it official and let us use mongeese as the plural!)
* When they rumbled into Pittburgh, where the sunken Pirates were two months past forcing manager Derek Shelton to walk the plank, and got themselves swept by the Pirates in three straight, outscored 30-4 in the set, letting the Pirates drop at least nine runs per game against them during—without Pirates ace/should-be National League Cy Young Award winner Paul Skenes facing them even for a third of an inning?
* When they lost two out of three to the Reds coming out of the All-Star Break, with the 2-1 lead they gifted back-in-the-rotation Sean Manaea squandered by one reliever whose Show debut was just a month earlier but wouldn’t turn up in a Met uniform again? When the Mets won the third game but those first two losses all but handed the Reds the wild-card tiebreaker?
* When relief ace Edwin Díaz’s otherwise stellar season (the finish: 1.63 ERA; 228 FIP; 0.88 WHIP) was rudely interrupted when the Brewers’ Isaac Collins blasted a game-ending home run 10 August, sending the Mets back to New York with their second of a pair of seven-game losing streaks?
* When the Mets turned to Nolan McLean in Philadelphia for his fifth career start, the young man responded with a one-run/5.2 inning performance that would have been enough for the Mets to win . . . if only they could have found a way to score even once? Leading to a Philadelphia sweep and any lingering hope of the Mets reclaiming the NL East they once owned in the trash compactor?
* When the Mets finally gave Jacob deGrom substantial run support in Citi Field—forgetting that deGrom now pitches for the other guys, the Rangers in this case, who’d drop another loss on them the following day for a season-longest eight-game losing streak?
* When the dead-last Nationals beat them 3-2 in the final Mets home game of the year, abetted by a pair of acrobatic fielding plays (robbing Brett Baty of extra bases; swiping a home run from Francisco Alvarez that would have tied the game) by Nats center fielder Jacob Wilson?
* When the Marlins channeled their 2006/2007 ancestors and told the Mets, “Not so fast, boys,” with the Mets needing to scale the Fish on Saturday, the Reds already losing to the Brewers, to nail the third wild card?
* When the non-Díaz bullpen surrendered four in the fourth, forcing manager Mendoza to bring Díaz in early to bind up the wounds?
* When the Mets ended up stranding ten runners, Pete Alonso hit a bases-loaded cruise missle stopped cold by Miami left fielder Javier Sanoja, and the Mets finished 2025 0-70 for the year whenever the other guys led after eight innings? (The number of Mets ninth-inning comebacks this year: zero. The number in 2024, when they got to the League Championship Series: eight.)
“There’s no other way to sugarcoat it,” said Alonso, who didn’t wait too long to let it be known he intended to opt out of his two-year deal and test his market, while leaving a door open wide enough for a reasonable-length deal with the Mets. “Super-talented team and we didn’t even get to October.”
In a sane major league game in which the leagues were aligned and divided reasonably, in which no such thing as regular-season interleague play existed, in which no team earned the right to postseason play unless its fannies were parked in first place at season’s end, the Mets wouldn’t be half the topic they are now.
In a sane baseball world, we wouldn’t have just gone through another wild race of thrills, chills, and spills, on behalf of seeing who’s fighting to the last breath (or rolling over dead trying) to finish . . . in second place.
“Sane” and “Mets” rarely fit comfortably in the same sentence. But this was one of those Met seasons about which you could say it’s liable to get them thrown out of the nut hut.



