Mets couldn't win in Reyes derby

DALLAS

The Miami Marlins, as it turns out, arranged to meet Jose Reyes at 12:01 a.m. on Nov. 3, in a New York City hotel. As early as the rules allowed such a get-together.

To Reyes -- seeking huge dollars, absolutely, but also wanting to be wanted -- that meant a great deal. Just as it upset the shortstop, conversely, that the Mets never made a concrete offer to keep him.

"What can I do?" Reyes told a group of New York reporters Wednesday, referring to the Mets. "They didn't show anything. In Miami, [the Marlins] were there from the beginning for me."

It's quite unfortunate that Reyes carried such hard feelings on a day of celebration for him, and perhaps the Mets could have operated differently during the past month and change.

Nevertheless, if you're looking for lessons the Mets can learn from Reyes' memorable, nine-year stay in Flushing? Ignore what occurred starting at 12:01, and focus on what happened leading up to 11:59: The Mets signed and developed one of the game's finest shortstops, and they qualified for the playoffs with him just once.

"It is disappointing, because you play this game to win," Reyes said. "I feel sorry for that part, because we weren't able to bring a championship to Queens."

The feelings still seemed raw Wednesday. At the least, Reyes felt, if the Mets weren't going to offer any money, they could've at least offered some love -- a phone call from a hierarchy member expressing a desire to retain Reyes.

Sandy Alderson replied, testily, "If you're asking whether I should have sent him a box of chocolates, perhaps I should have done that. But on the other hand, the box of chocolates wouldn't have cost $106 million."

Ouch.

The truth is, the Mets put themselves in an untenable situation and couldn't figure out how to smoothly twist their way out of it. They expected to lose Reyes, yet weren't willing to come out and say, "We don't want him back" -- partly because of the consequential bad publicity and partly because if somehow Reyes' market stayed in the five-year, $75-million range, then maybe the Mets would actually pull the trigger and keep him.

Maybe Alderson or Terry Collins, who enjoyed a close relationship with Reyes, should have called the free agent and tried to explain the club's thinking in a way that would have assuaged Reyes while not compromising the Mets' leverage. Something as simple as "We want you back. We just don't know whether we can make the dollars work."

For a short while last week, it looked as if the Mets might actually be in the Reyes game. Then Miami raised its offer, and on Sunday Reyes deliberated for hours before finally instructing his agent, Peter Greenberg, "Tell them I'm a Fish."

The Marlins will pay Reyes $10 million this year and next year, $16 million in 2014 and $22 million from 2015 through 2017; those latter salaries could very well be huge overpays. The Mets got far better bang for their Reyes bucks, and we still don't fault them for passing on this deal.

No, the key to a championship team is roster depth, precisely what the Mets never provided for Reyes, David Wright, Carlos Beltran and Johan Santana. So if the Mets are taking that $17 million (Reyes' annual average value) and spreading it among the likes of Frank Francisco, Jon Rauch, Ramon Ramirez and Andres Torres, at a time in which they're slashing payroll? That makes some sense.

If this team is ever to succeed again under the Wilpons' ownership, it must cash in when its All-Star players are affordable. There's nothing more depressing than hearing that free-agent clock strike midnight and knowing that you blew your opportunity.