Spring training is baseball’s version of a dress rehearsal—bright lights, high hopes, and not a lot on the line. And in that forgiving Florida sunshine, Brett Baty looked like a star in the making. The New York Mets’ young infielder turned heads with a red-hot Grapefruit League showing, flashing an OPS that nestled comfortably among league leaders.
Even more impressive? He picked up a brand-new position—second base—like a kid learning to ride a bike without training wheels. Wobbly, sure, but upright.
Baty isn’t exactly anchoring a Gold Glove campaign at the keystone, but he held it down just enough to earn the nod while Jeff McNeil recovers on the IL. A bold move from the Mets, but one that felt justified at the time. The bat looked real, the glove passable—why not?
Fast Forward to Reality Check
Twelve regular-season games later, though, the story’s changing—and fast. Baty’s bat, once blazing, has turned ice-cold. On Wednesday, he wore another oh-fer, going 0-for-3 with two strikeouts, dragging his batting average to a frigid .111 and his OPS to a painful .259. It’s the kind of slump that makes even casual fans reach for the panic button.
And then there was the throw—wide, off-target, and costly. It cracked the door open for two unearned runs as the Marlins took advantage and walked away with a win.
Errors happen, sure. But when they stack on top of offensive struggles, it begins to feel like a weight the team can’t carry.
Fans Losing Patience, Mendoza Holding Firm
Scroll through X (still known as Twitter in most hearts), and you’ll find no shortage of frustration. Mets fans, famously passionate and rarely patient, are letting their feelings fly:
But while the crowd sharpens pitchforks, Mets skipper Carlos Mendoza isn’t budging—at least not yet.
“We believe in the player. There’s tools, there’s a lot to like there,” Mendoza told reporters. It’s coach-speak, but you can hear the hope trying to muscle its way through the reality.
Stuck Between Gears
The challenge for Baty? It seems mental as much as mechanical. He’s caught in a foggy middle ground—unsure whether to pounce or wait. The result? At-bats that look hesitant, like he’s already working from behind before the pitcher even releases the ball.
“Just kind of indecision. Just being in-between, not having the finger on the trigger,” Baty admitted to SNY. He knows. The fans know. The Mets know.
Clock’s Ticking
With McNeil’s return looming on the horizon, Baty’s window of opportunity isn’t closing—it’s nearly shut. The leash isn’t gone yet, but the slack is shrinking. The bat has to show up. Soon.