The great start was somewhat misleading and rested on things that it turns out (not too surprisingly) could not last. It relied, for instance, too much on pitching overperforming, including bullpen arms and marginal starters who did great for a while, but are starting to fall back to earth. And, yes, I'm upset about that lack of fight. The Marlins beat this team just over the weekend. They aren't damn world beaters. And, this isn't Atlanta. They continued to lose at home. This run is a tad disgusting.
The Mets overestimated the young infielders and thought one or maybe even two of them would step up. That's why they didn't sign Jose (OMG) Iglesias. Not one stepped up, and Jose and his energy are missing. This is not to say that if they signed Jose, that anything would be different, just that it may be a snippet in this horror story. What is important, however, is that the talent evaluators, didn't. Alvarez is a puzzlement and the pitching is another story.
But there’s another piece of this that’s gotten under my skin lately—one that speaks directly to the heart of the Mets' offensive identity crisis: Brett Baty.
Take a look at that one at-bat where he actually came through—a rare two-RBI knock. What did he do? He didn’t load up for a monster hack. He simply flicked the bat, dumped the ball into the outfield, and got the job done. It was the kind of smart, situational hitting that the Mets rarely do. No full swing. No trying to be a hero. Just putting the ball in play--even if the pitch is out of the strike zone. Ironically, that’s often the best way to get a hit—particularly in high-leverage moments. But you’d never know it watching this team under Mendoza. It’s not a technique they seem to emphasize or practice. And that’s a problem.
Then there’s Baty’s maddening habit of taking the first pitch—something he shares with Alonso, Nimmo, and Taylor. The whole team treats 0-0 like it’s some sacred offering from the baseball gods that must be left untouched. It’s often the best pitch they’ll see all at-bat. Yet they’re passive. Even worse is the 2-0 count, which, to Baty, seems like an automatic take every single time. It’s like he’s allergic to confidence in the box. Alonso’s guilty of this too. You’re ahead in the count! Why are you suddenly paralyzed?
And when they do get to two strikes? Forget it. It’s flailing season. Wild, desperate swings at pitches nowhere near the zone. No approach. No plan. Just hope.
What we’re seeing is not just a cold stretch. It’s a systemic failure in approach hitting, and that’s got to fall at least in part on the coaching staff. The lack of aggressiveness in hitters’ counts, the refusal to capitalize on pitcher mistakes early in at-bats, and the collective inability to shorten up and just make contact—this isn’t random. It’s coaching. It’s philosophy. Or more accurately, the lack thereof.
So yes, Stearns is right—it’s not just one thing. But when you look closer, a whole lot of those things trace back to how this team approaches the fundamentals of the game. And right now, they look like a team that doesn’t know how—or worse, doesn’t care—to fix it.
Baty is a kind of canary in a coal mine for me. When he came back up, all of a sudden he was moving in the box a little, tapping his right foot, waggling the bat, looking to do damage. And he started hitting.
Now, he's back to being ultra-still in the box. And he's a millisecond late on almost everything again.
I have no idea if he's reverted on his own or if it's coaching advice, but the bottom line for me is, he looked like he was finally breaking through. He was being aggressive. He was ready to rip. And then he stopped. It's inexplicable.
I really don't mean to single him out, though. He's representative of something bigger going on with this team. We're too restrained. We get hit by pitches and no one even barks at the pitcher, let alone charges out there to do a little business. Our own pitchers don't come up and in enough to back guys off the plate, and God forbid they should hit someone in the keister to retaliate.
And we seem to be trying to get everyone to hit the same way (except for Soto — he's left alone).
All of the retread pitchers Stearns got cheap have regressed back to their career norms. Not surprising. What is surprising is how bad the bats not named Lindor, Soto and Alonso have been. Not only do Senga and Manaea have to come back and both pitch like aces, but Stearns needs to go get 2 more hitters and 2-3 relievers and not sure that’s possible. Oy.
Maybe it isn't "statistical," but is it quantifiable? Teams that aren't hitting always look lethargic. What would be a good metric? Maybe pitches per at bat-- is that down from when we were playing well? Are we chasing more? Less hard contact? Worse BABIP? I don't know where to get that data, but someone must have it.
The great start was somewhat misleading and rested on things that it turns out (not too surprisingly) could not last. It relied, for instance, too much on pitching overperforming, including bullpen arms and marginal starters who did great for a while, but are starting to fall back to earth. And, yes, I'm upset about that lack of fight. The Marlins beat this team just over the weekend. They aren't damn world beaters. And, this isn't Atlanta. They continued to lose at home. This run is a tad disgusting.
The Mets overestimated the young infielders and thought one or maybe even two of them would step up. That's why they didn't sign Jose (OMG) Iglesias. Not one stepped up, and Jose and his energy are missing. This is not to say that if they signed Jose, that anything would be different, just that it may be a snippet in this horror story. What is important, however, is that the talent evaluators, didn't. Alvarez is a puzzlement and the pitching is another story.
But there’s another piece of this that’s gotten under my skin lately—one that speaks directly to the heart of the Mets' offensive identity crisis: Brett Baty.
Take a look at that one at-bat where he actually came through—a rare two-RBI knock. What did he do? He didn’t load up for a monster hack. He simply flicked the bat, dumped the ball into the outfield, and got the job done. It was the kind of smart, situational hitting that the Mets rarely do. No full swing. No trying to be a hero. Just putting the ball in play--even if the pitch is out of the strike zone. Ironically, that’s often the best way to get a hit—particularly in high-leverage moments. But you’d never know it watching this team under Mendoza. It’s not a technique they seem to emphasize or practice. And that’s a problem.
Then there’s Baty’s maddening habit of taking the first pitch—something he shares with Alonso, Nimmo, and Taylor. The whole team treats 0-0 like it’s some sacred offering from the baseball gods that must be left untouched. It’s often the best pitch they’ll see all at-bat. Yet they’re passive. Even worse is the 2-0 count, which, to Baty, seems like an automatic take every single time. It’s like he’s allergic to confidence in the box. Alonso’s guilty of this too. You’re ahead in the count! Why are you suddenly paralyzed?
And when they do get to two strikes? Forget it. It’s flailing season. Wild, desperate swings at pitches nowhere near the zone. No approach. No plan. Just hope.
What we’re seeing is not just a cold stretch. It’s a systemic failure in approach hitting, and that’s got to fall at least in part on the coaching staff. The lack of aggressiveness in hitters’ counts, the refusal to capitalize on pitcher mistakes early in at-bats, and the collective inability to shorten up and just make contact—this isn’t random. It’s coaching. It’s philosophy. Or more accurately, the lack thereof.
So yes, Stearns is right—it’s not just one thing. But when you look closer, a whole lot of those things trace back to how this team approaches the fundamentals of the game. And right now, they look like a team that doesn’t know how—or worse, doesn’t care—to fix it.
Baty is a kind of canary in a coal mine for me. When he came back up, all of a sudden he was moving in the box a little, tapping his right foot, waggling the bat, looking to do damage. And he started hitting.
Now, he's back to being ultra-still in the box. And he's a millisecond late on almost everything again.
I have no idea if he's reverted on his own or if it's coaching advice, but the bottom line for me is, he looked like he was finally breaking through. He was being aggressive. He was ready to rip. And then he stopped. It's inexplicable.
I really don't mean to single him out, though. He's representative of something bigger going on with this team. We're too restrained. We get hit by pitches and no one even barks at the pitcher, let alone charges out there to do a little business. Our own pitchers don't come up and in enough to back guys off the plate, and God forbid they should hit someone in the keister to retaliate.
And we seem to be trying to get everyone to hit the same way (except for Soto — he's left alone).
We're ... boring.
All of the retread pitchers Stearns got cheap have regressed back to their career norms. Not surprising. What is surprising is how bad the bats not named Lindor, Soto and Alonso have been. Not only do Senga and Manaea have to come back and both pitch like aces, but Stearns needs to go get 2 more hitters and 2-3 relievers and not sure that’s possible. Oy.
As soon as they lose a lead it's over. Wake up!
Too bad it's not hockey, where a big brawl can wake a team up. Can that be arranged?
I'd put money on Stanek
Ha, ha, I had the same thought. He does look like a wild man.
New York, tenemos un (grave) problema...
As only Jimmy Durante would say, "WHAT A CATASTROPHE!" Bring back JD!
Maybe it isn't "statistical," but is it quantifiable? Teams that aren't hitting always look lethargic. What would be a good metric? Maybe pitches per at bat-- is that down from when we were playing well? Are we chasing more? Less hard contact? Worse BABIP? I don't know where to get that data, but someone must have it.