Jeffrey Bessen
In early June, I was planning my October.
The Mets, whose record at the time was 41–24, led the National League East by 3½ games on June 7. They didn’t just look like contenders — they looked like one of the best teams in baseball.
Their pitching rotation was sharp, leading the major leagues with an ERA of 2.4. Their bats were delivering timely hits. And for once, the bullpen didn’t make me want to walk into traffic. It was, dare I say, fun to be a Mets fan.
But these are the Mets. Fun is fleeting. Hope is hazardous, and being a fan is not for the faint of heart. And now, two months later, I’m left wondering what happened to the team that had me believing.
Since that June date, the Mets had gone 22–31 as of Sunday night. That’s not just a slump; that’s a collapse. At press time, they trailed the Philadelphia Phillies by 5½ games in the N.L. East and were once again staring down the possibility of a late-season scramble just to get into the postseason. Sound familiar? It should. Last year’s agonizing, stress-filled play-in saga added to my existing gray hair.
And the worst part? It didn’t have to be this way.
In the days before the July 31 trade deadline, the front office made moves — smart ones, even. Acquiring left-hander Gregory Soto and right-handers Tyler Rogers and Ryan Helsley — all three are relievers — and outfielder Cedric Mullins.
They added those arms and a little pop to the lineup, trying to patch what was clearly fraying. For a moment, it looked like the front office had figured it out: Invest in the stretch run, avoid the one-game elimination trap and push for an actual run in October.
But good decisions in the front office don’t always translate into wins on the field. Injuries happened. Slumps happened. And maybe, just maybe, the pressure of being “the team to beat” got into their heads.
Being a Mets fan means riding the emotional equivalent of the Cyclone at Coney Island — except instead of screaming with joy, you’re mostly screaming at the bullpen. We’ve been here before: 2007, 2008, 2015’s near-miracle, 2022’s 101-win team that fizzled in the Wild Card Series. Even last year’s appearance in the League Championship Series, just to lose to the Dodgers, felt like a cruel joke.
This year was supposed to be different. And for a while, it was. The early-season version of the Mets played like a complete team. Watching them was a reminder of why we stick with baseball — for the rhythms, the tension, the slow-burn drama of a team finding itself. It felt earned. It felt genuine.
Now? I watch games bracing for the bullpen to unravel in the seventh inning. I second-guess every swing with runners in scoring position. I wonder if we’ve already seen the best this team has to offer — and if we’re about to spend another fall watching other franchises play meaningful baseball while we stew in what-ifs.
There’s still time. Two months remain, and the National League is crowded. If the Mets can rediscover what worked — if their arms stay healthy, if the lineup settles into a groove, if the new acquisitions mesh quickly — this team
can still avoid the play-in.
They can still push deep. But those ifs are starting to feel heavier by the day.
Baseball is cruel that way. The highs don’t last. The lows can seem to stretch forever. And sometimes it seems as if the worst thing the sport can give you isn’t heartbreak, it’s hope.
The frustrations and stresses of being a Mets fan have no boundaries. Especially after a weekend series in which they lost three games to the Central Division-leading Milwaukee Brewers. A team with so much promise now must pick up the pieces, starting this week with a series against its annual nemesis, the Atlanta Braves. So I’ll watch, and hope the turnaround starts there. Because I’m a Mets fan. And that is what we do.
Jeff Bessen is the managing editor of Herald Community Media.
