Davidoff: Wright can fill leadership role, says Delgado's presence didn't hold him back

PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla.

The workplace dynamic is complex here at Tradition Field, just as it likely is at your office, or your friend's or your spouse's.

Carlos Delgado no longer has a job with the Mets; thanks to repeated hip problems, he is a free agent and very well might be done. He spent the last four seasons with this team, producing one great year (2006), one season with a double feature of "Horrendous Carlos" and "Transcendent Carlos" (2008), one disappointment (2007) and one injury-induced vanishing act (2009).

He carried a presence because of his career accomplishments, so his absence will be felt. But there will be room for other players to grow.

The most obvious person to fill that void, however - David Wright - rejects the commonly held notion that Delgado hurt Wright's stature and damaged the clubhouse in general.

"In baseball, you put your time in," Wright said. "When you've done what he's done in this game, obviously he deserves a lot of respect. But by no means did I feel intimidated, that he was holding me down from being a leader on the team. If anything, he helped me. He pushed me to become a leader."

"Come on!" you might say. "Wright is too politically savvy to light up Delgado!"

You're right. But I believe that Wright believed his words.

From 2006 through 2009, you could argue that Delgado served more as a powerful mirror of the Mets than he did a bellwether.

The first year, everyone played terrific ball as the Mets won the NL East title, and people indeed regarded Delgado as a team leader.

When Willie Randolph started to lose the team in 2007 and even more so in 2008, Delgado appeared the least happy, through both his statistics and his body language. Make no mistake, though: Randolph alienated myriad people by his own virtue. He can blame Delgado only to the degree that Delgado's poor play hurt the club.

Delgado's dramatic resurgence in the second half of 2008 symbolized the team's newfound happiness under Jerry Manuel. And last year? Well, with only 26 games played, Delgado became the most injured of a group stupefied by disabled list visits.

"It's a veteran presence that we're missing from the clubhouse now, so someone's going to have to fill that role," Wright said. "Not necessarily just one person, but I have to be one of those people that step up and kind of come to the table . . . I think that some of us, me included, need to step up and help me fill that role."

Added hitting coach Howard Johnson: "[Wright's] willing to take on that role. I don't see why he wouldn't. He leads by example. That's the biggest thing about David. He's not afraid to talk to guys, but for the most part, he's going to be out there playing 100 percent."

Delgado didn't make a habit of big clubhouse speeches; neither will Wright. Very few can get away with doing that.

The truth, as Mets fans should have realized last season, is that the leadership talk can be vastly overblown. Yes, it has a real value; CC Sabathia helped the Yankees' chemistry last year because he refused to fall victim to the false choice of "Choose a side - Derek Jeter or Alex Rodriguez." He stayed true to himself and liked everyone. Yet if Sabathia had put up, say, a 6.00 ERA, such maturity would've gotten him nowhere fast.

The best way Wright can exhibit maturity is by accepting that he plays in a pitcher's ballpark and by not trying to carry the load offensively during Carlos Beltran's absence.

And - in a sign he's on his way - by not feeling liberated because of Delgado's departure.