Laura Albanese: Jose Iglesias' infectious optimism is just what Mets need right now
Jose Iglesias poses for a photograph with former Mets teammate Francisco Lindor after throwing the ceremonial first pitch before a game against the San Diego Padres at Citi Field on Tuesday. Credit: Jim McIsaac
Jose Iglesias shot into the Citi Field dugout like a human Epi-Pen – awash in the sort of effervescent liveliness that’s hard to believe until you see it in real life.
He smiled when he said how hurt he was that he couldn’t return to the Mets in 2025, though there was no malice behind his words. That magical 2024 season was “hands down” the happiest season of his career, he said.
“I’m very happy to be here tonight.”
Speaking ahead of throwing out the first pitch Tuesday, he twice was interrupted by former teammates. Kodai Senga, who popped his head over the railing, sang a bit of “OMG,” hand gestures and all, and Mark Vientos, who pretty much did the same.
When Iglesias talks about the Mets, he still says “we.” He calls New York “home,” though prior to taking a role in Broadway’s “Buena Vista Social Club,” set to start on Aug. 27, he had been a self-professed nomad. It’s about a six-week run but “every time I get free time, I’ll be here, cheering for my team,” he said.
Iglesias said he feels good, and at age 36, can still play. But this isn’t about whether the Mets should have retained his services in 2025, or if another club should give him a shot after his star turn.
It’s about what Iglesias represents, and what this club needs more of – though we’ve certainly seen seedlings of it during a recent hot stretch that had them going into Tuesday having won 10 of their last 13.
His positivity is coated in Teflon. He’s been out of baseball for a year, but kept posting workout videos on Instagram, trying to give teams a reason to give him another shot. When Broadway called, he at first was flabbergasted, and then said yes, though the prospect is undoubtedly intimidating. Iglesias, the journeyman who bounced around professional baseball for 13 years, lives life with a cheeky aplomb that says, “Whatever happens, at least I know I did everything I could.”
Last week, when interim manager Andy Green was talking about Sean Manaea’s own fight to return to form, he noted that resilience required vulnerability – you have to acknowledge weakness in order to overcome it. It’s an equal parts embarrassing and empowering process, and can serve as a valuable reminder as these Mets play out the stretch, regardless of where they end up in the standings.
To quote J.D. Martinez all those years ago, "If we're going to suck, let's suck together, go have fun sucking, and enjoy it.”
Few people seem to enjoy things more than Iglesias.
Though he hit .337 in 2024 and played with a hustle and grit that belied the fact that he was baseball’s Hannah Montana, in the intervening years, the memories center less around what he did on the field, and more about how he made this team, and this city feel.
Because Iglesias’ story isn’t the type of thing that happens in real life. A reclamation minor leaguer in his mid-30s doesn’t join a team on the brink of disaster and bring it to life. He doesn’t become a chart-topping pop star. But Iglesias did it anyway, and along the way, the response to “this doesn’t happen” started to become, “Yeah, but why not?” And it bled onto his teammates, and helped propel a run few anticipated.
Despite their recent play, it will take little short of an act of God for the Mets to make the playoffs. But the vibes of late have been good, and while it's my job to be realistic, this franchise could learn something from looking at impossible odds and saying, "Yeah, but why not?”
Positive thinking won't force them into contention, but a toothless lack of defiance was one of the things that helped force them out of it.
In contrast, the post-trade deadline Mets – the ones that saw some of their best players and a huge chunk of their bullpen depart for better teams – play with a cheeky boldness that very much mimics Iglesias’ brand. When the roster is restocked next year, and the slate has been wiped clean, that ethos can carry on.
“We never gave up regardless of the results,” Iglesias said of 2024. “We never gave up as a group and we really loved each other as human beings…[It] was a special relationship that I had, not just with the staff, with the players, with the security, with everybody around the stadium. It was a family energy.”
The words sound good, but you also kind of believe him.
See, there was really no reason for him to come back here Tuesday. He wore his bleeding heart on his sleeve after hitting free agency in 2024: He wanted to return to Flushing “bad, very bad,” he said. “I was already looking for apartments to live [in] and it totally got me by surprised.”
He respected the decision, he said, “but just detaching with this organization, it hurt me.”
Players have held grudges for far, far less, but “I’m the guy who’s always looking for the positive and I really mean that. So, I’ll take [this opportunity] to enjoy my family and now here I am in New York. There’s no better place to be right now than Citi Field.”
The Mets came into the day 12 games under .500. Rarely this year has anyone said that there was “no better place to be” than Citi Field. But you can understand where he's coming from.
Iglesias is out of baseball, but he was back in the dugout he loved. He was surrounded by fans and friends. The Mets have looked pretty good, and it was a beautiful night for baseball.
In a certain light, there really was no better place to be.
That was the perspective Iglesias brought to this team two years ago, and just because he’s gone, it doesn’t mean they have to forget it.
Laura Albanese is the Mets beat writer for Newsday. She's been covering MLB since 2014 after starting at Newsday as an intern seven years earlier.
