Just Like Old Times

This year was turning out to be fun. Mind you, I had no illusions or expectations of a deep playoff run, but I actually enjoyed watching this group. I enjoyed watching their resilliency. I enjoyed watching there grit. I enjoyed watching their cohesive play. Simply put, I felt something that I haven't felt watching this team since the 2006 NLDS: enjoyment. (I enjoyed nothing about the 2006 NLCS, which is the first of 3 straight collapses).

Weren't we just having a blast? The Mets were playing an overachieving brand of baseball that was the exact opposite of everything the Omar Mets had been. While I, admittedly, did not think it possible at the season's outset, I was feeling as if this group was allowing me to finally put the past- and all the despair that came with it- behind me. They were allowing me to finally move on. And then he came back.

When healthy Carlos Beltran may the best centerfielder in baseball. He is as graceful in the outfield as he is on the bases. He is what so many prospects are touted as but never prove to be: the ultimate five tool player. And over the offseason the Mets must do whatever it takes to trade him.

I'm not putting the Mets poor play all on Beltran's shoulders; in fact, I believe he still makes their line up much better. The reality, however, is that with his return comes not only a reminder of what has transpired over the past 5 years, but an aura that has taken hold of the team. It is dark and brooding aura that has seemingly sucked the life out of all of Beltran's teammates, who before his return was announced were playing with a spirit not seen in Flushing for a very long time. And now that spirit is broken.

With Delgado gone, Beltran is now the poster child of the most under achieving group of players the Mets have ever fielded. While he may not be the clubhouse cancer that Delgado was, his make up- one forever stigmatized by softness and failure- is just as poisonous to the rest of the team. For all of us, its just time to move on.