Can the Mets Rebuild Clubhouse Chemistry Before 2026?
Was the fall of the 2025 Mets a result of team dysfunction? There’s no exact way to know what goes on inside the clubhouse. What fans know is this – the Mets were once a team that prospered under pressure. Now the pressure seems to be coming from inside themselves.
Picture this: it’s October 2024, and the Mets have beaten the odds once again by making it to the National League Championship Series. José Iglesias’ song “OMG” is the team anthem, blasting through the stadium for every victory, whether big or small. When the Mets secure the Wild Card, the locker room is a delight. The team sprays Carlos Mendoza with champagne, and all is right in the world. Even when they are eliminated by the Dodgers, it doesn’t feel like a failure. This team is just getting started – 2025 is sure to be their year.
Then come the unexpected off-season changes. In December 2024, management offered Juan Soto, most recently a New York Yankee, a $765 million contract for the next 15 years as a Met. This was an unprecedented deal in all of baseball for its longevity and financial risk. Soto’s addition wasn’t universally accepted by fans or social media, with discourse online stating people were unsure how he would fit into the team chemistry.
At the time, a free agent, Pete Alonso, was still deciding his baseball future. A homegrown player for the Mets, Alonso had become a true facet of team culture. Still, he wanted an impressive contract that reflected his skill sets and a real shot at winning it all. By February 2025, Alonso accepted a two-year contract with an opt-out clause built in.
When the Mets came back for the 2025 season, there was no sign that anything might go wrong. It was clear from their performance – they were in it to win it all. Through the month of June, the starpower of the team shined bright from the proven and confident veteran players to the eager to grow, “Baby Mets.” The Mets were leading the league with poised determination and a stellar ERA. There was no doubt that they would continue to thrive.
On July 19th, David Wright retired his number and was inducted into the Hall of Fame for the team. Rumors were swirling that “The Captain” was sure to name a successor to his legacy. Fingers pointed at Francisco Lindor. Those who witnessed the game can attest to the loud cheers when Lindor’s walk-up song played and the expectation that hung in the air. Then, nothing. What the Mets needed was a leader – a core member of the team who would hold them together through the upcoming trials of the season. Who would have known what was to come?
When the starting pitchers like Edwin Diaz and Kodai Senga got injured, the bullpen became completely taxed. Francisco Alvarez was optioned to Triple-A. To make up for this gap in pitchers and defense, management used the 2025 MLB Trade Deadline to bolster their bullpen. Leading up to final decisions, younger players like Mark Vientos were speculated to be on uncertain ground, which possibly contributed to less confident game performance.
Homegrown player, Jesús Báez, was traded for all-star Ryan Helsley – a decision which was announced mid-game. Fans watched as Báez received the news, crying on the sidelines as he departed from the clubhouse forever. Management expected these trades to fix the 2025 problem. Instead, it only exacerbated it. The team chemistry began to seem off as long-standing players had to adjust to the new additions and their playing styles while navigating the loss of a once-certain season.
Baseball is a business, but the Mets had never operated like that before. The reason why fans stay loyal, even when performance is low, is different. Fans love the Mets not just because, at their best, they are fun, but because even at their worst, there is hope in how they play. This hope was missing this year. Even when the Mets went into the Wild Card Series against the Brewers to fight for their postseason spot, it already felt like they had accepted defeat. Uncharacteristically, it already felt like fans had accepted defeat, too. The spark was unlit, and the magic had disappeared. Yet why?
It’s plausible that it was a series of mistrust among each individual of the team that culminated in the 2025 elimination. Lindor’s captaincy snub. Alonso’s desire to be competitively compensated. Diaz’s and Sengai’s injuries. Soto’s lack of acceptance from fans. Going down the list, there’s a thread of disconnect that can be pieced together. Of course, it could just be a story I’m telling myself to feel better about the Mets’ missed opportunity.
When I finally see the 2026 Mets together, whoever will be on that starting roster, I believe that it is up to them to open themselves up to victory. As much as I want to “Ted Lasso” the group by taking them to the pub and helping them trust each other, it’s only up to them to find the Clubhouse chemistry that once sparked through the screen. It can be done. Each member of the team is talented and meant to be there. In 2026, it’s time to remember that being a Met isn’t always about winning, but it is always about believing.
