Laura Albanese: Amid a tough start, Bo Bichette is starting to feel more like himself with Mets
Mets third baseman Bo Bichette acknowledges the crowd as he is presented with a tribute video from his time with the Toronto Blue Jays prior to a game between the Mets and the Blue Jays in Toronto on June 29. Credit: The Canadian Press via AP/Nathan Denette
ATLANTA — Bo Bichette didn’t see it coming. He didn’t quite realize what it would be like to tear his life up from the roots and make the move to New York. For his entire life, baseball had simply been baseball, and certainly it would be no different a couple hundred miles south of the border.
Baseball might be baseball, but people always going to be people, and for a moment there, Bichette was a person unmoored.
“I didn’t think coming in that it would feel that way,” he told Newsday Monday ahead of the Mets’ series finale against Atlanta. “But yeah, definitely [it’s hard to feel like yourself in a new environment]. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never struggled in comfortable areas before either, but yeah, I think all of it plays into me not being completely myself at the start of the year.”
It’s possible some Mets fans were confused by the adoration that followed Bichette from the moment he stepped foot in Rogers Centre last week. Sure, the people of Toronto have known Bichette since he was a teenager, but it was his choice to leave for New York and take his payday, and that’s not always greeted with unequivocal affection.
At Citi Field, Bichette has been booed, taunted, and often has had to hold the banner for David Stearns’ ill-fated offseason acquisitions. In television interviews, he’s soft-spoken, bordering on reserved, which doesn’t always play well in this market. But in Toronto Wednesday, the armor came off: He cried on camera thinking about how he couldn’t bring a championship there.
It was in that moment that you understood why. You understood why the in-stadium merchandise stands still carry his jersey. You understood why, on Thursday, Kevin Gausman decided he needed a new baseball when Bichette came up to bat, allowing the fans that hadn’t been there the day prior to show their love for the son raised in the shadow of the CN Tower.
“It’s nice you know you meant a lot to people,” Bichette said then.
But it also paints a portrait of a player that perhaps has been misunderstood in his new home. Bichette came here with huge expectations and a huge contract to go along with it: three years, $126 million, with an opt out at the end of this season that he may not have the benefit of exercising because of early underperformance.
But he couldn’t control whether his many hard-hit balls found grass. He couldn’t will himself to play to the back of his baseball card. Baseball, after all, was going to be baseball — fickle, and sometimes cruel. What he could control was who he was as a person, and in the process, it seems he’s found something indispensable.
“I’m getting more comfortable, being more of myself,” said Bichette, who came into Monday slashing .350/.373/.564 in the 29 games since June 3 — hiking up his batting average from .213 to .258. “I think [hitting] instincts come from being fully immersed in the game and typically, when hitters struggle, they’re looking at themselves and trying to figure out what they can do better instead of playing the game.”
It's easy to fall into that trap when you’re surrounded by new teammates, and being beset by some truly woeful luck (even now, Bichette’s expected batting average is .073 higher than his actual batting average).
But during the lows and the highs, a theme emerged. Former manager Carlos Mendoza pointed it out first, and interim manager Andy Green echoed it recently.
“He really sacrificed for the team,” Green said last week. “He slid into shortstop when [Francisco] Lindor was out, slid into second base for an inning, slid back to third base. [He's] been a selfless teammate.”
Maybe you don’t expect that. Bichette is the son of Dante Bichette, who played 14 MLB seasons, and no doubt has been afforded every tool available to succeed, but there’s no whiff of diva about him.
After all, it was the career shortstop’s idea to move to second base with the Blue Jays battling for a title last year — both to compensate for not being completely healthy, and to ensure that the infield maintained its continuity. In the end, his Game 7 three-run homer will live in the annals of Toronto sports history, despite the loss.
So he didn’t complain when the Mets moved him moved him like a pawn across various infield positions, even though the common belief among many players is that having to think too much on defense can have a negative impact on offense. It’s enough to make you believe him when he trots out the well-worn cliché: “I’m just here to help the team win…”
“Doing it in the World Series the first time probably gave me the confidence,” he said of the position switches. Then, “I just wanted to get in the lineup however I could…It’s [about] doing whatever I can do.”
Eventually, among the instability, this team’s failures, and its search for identity, Bichette was able to find an anchor within himself.
“I’ve had enough seasons in my career at this point to have been through very similar things,” said Bichette, who pointed to the 2024 season hampered by a calf strain and broken finger that cost him half the year. “I’ve learned what leadership looks like and that means showing up every day to win games, to work hard, to try to become a better player no matter what happens.”
He’s also made a home in the clubhouse. Marcus Semien came with the package — when they played together in Toronto, Semien helped shape how he approaches the game, Bichette said. He’s also gotten close with “a lot of guys…I’ve grown very close to [Francisco] Alvarez and I’ve grown really close to the two rookies, A.J. [Ewing] and Carson (Benge) — they’re a good time.”
Of course, the big question is what’s next. It’s unlikely, though not impossible, that Bichette is moved at the trade deadline (among other things, he has a no-trade clause). The Mets would actually have to pay him if he opts out at the end of this year, but thanks to his slow start, it’s unclear if another club would pay him more than the $42 million he stands to make next season.
And there’s another factor — though Flushing hasn’t been the most hospitable place, Bichette has indicated from the beginning that he doesn’t look at his opt-out as a ‘get out of jail free card.’
“Right now, I’m working really hard to make sure my season ends the way I want it to,” he said. “I don’t think there’s any way where I could be in the mind frame of where my future is right now when I’m trying to be the best version of myself.”
It makes sense: First, Bichette had to figure out how to be himself. Now, he can relearn how to be the best at it.

