Mets have a lot of money to offer, so why are their free agents going elsewhere?
Newly signed Baltimore Orioles first baseman Pete Alonso (25) shakes hands with Orioles president of baseball operations Mike Elias, as Orioles owner David Rubenstein, left, and sports agent Scott Boras, right, look on during a baseball press conference, Friday, Dec. 12, 2025, in Baltimore. Credit: AP/Ulysses Muñoz
Shortly after Pete Alonso shrugged on his Orioles jersey, he made sure to thank his wife and to say hello to his infant son — the boy born in the waning days of the Mets’ season, though the Alonsos decided to keep it private at the time.
His name is Teddy.
A little later, reporters in Baltimore asked Alonso why he’s called “Polar Bear,” and in a tale he’s told before, he recalled earning it with the Mets in spring training in 2019.
“I love the nickname,” Alonso said. “I think it’s great.”
It’s likely no coincidence that the Polar Bear inspired a Teddy bear. It also speaks to how deep the ties go: Alonso’s life is threaded through Flushing, and though he’s now 31, a father and the owner of a life-changing five-year, $155 million contract, there’s still so much left of the goofy kid with the big swing and the big heart.
That heart doesn’t beat for the Mets anymore, though. Nor does Brandon Nimmo’s. Nor does the one belonging to Edwin Diaz, who had his own introductory news conference with the Dodgers in Los Angeles right after Alonso’s. And that makes for a dark day in Flushing.
Let’s be realistic: This could work out. President of baseball operations David Stearns could build a roster of champions, bring a championship to Queens and earn his moniker as boy genius. The Mets of old were talented, yes, but that same core (no matter how likable) failed to net them a World Series appearance, let alone a title. It’s also far too early to judge the success of this offseason or to pick up the pitchforks and join the social media hordes asking for Stearns’ job.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t pay attention, and in a way, the insights provided by Alonso, Diaz and Nimmo are parting gifts from three players who undoubtedly gave their all when they donned the orange and blue.
By now, we know the Mets never presented Alonso a final offer, and to hear him speak at his introductory news conference, it doesn’t sound as if the front office gave him all that much to hold on to.
“It was the perfect fit, not just as a player but for family life,” he said of the Orioles. “Every single box just placed checks.”
He then praised the Orioles’ front office for their transparency: “Them pretty much giving me the entire blueprint of the organization is extremely refreshing.”
Thousands of miles away, Diaz, who spurned the Mets for an extra $3 million (but not really), gave his own subtle indictment of his old club.
“I chose the Dodgers because they are a winning organization,” said Diaz, who never allowed the Mets to make a counter-offer, meaning he very likely left money on the table. “I’m looking to win and I think they have everything to win, so picking the Dodgers was pretty easy.”
After being traded for Marcus Semien, Nimmo gave a fairly sad account of what spurred him to waive his no-trade clause.
“I was taken aback,” he said. The Mets “made it clear that the best way to move forward [for them] was this trade.”
With the way their departed players are indicating that they didn’t feel wanted anymore, you’d think this was a poverty-stricken franchise. But the Mets are far from poor. They’re simply corporate and, at its core, that’s how a baseball team should be run.
Owner Steve Cohen didn’t become a billionaire by being sentimental. Stearns didn’t excel with the Brewers because he put personality over results. The Dodgers aren’t two-time champs because of a rally monkey and the power of friendship.
That’s not the issue. You can spurn sentimentality, you can lean into optimization, you can gut a team all you want. What’s more concerning is how it’s being done.
When Alonso said he found the Orioles’ transparency “refreshing,” it’s fair to question the level of communication between the players and the Mets’ front office. When Diaz said he opted for a “winning organization,” it’s fair to ask what made him think winning isn’t a part of the Mets’ DNA. When Nimmo said he was “taken aback,” it’s fair to wonder how much notice the team gave its longest-tenured player.
All three things point to the same issue: a disconnect between the front office and the players it pays to play.
Granted, it’s possible the Mets simply outgrew Nimmo and Alonso, but Diaz feels like a different situation. Fans may be put out about him not giving the Mets a final shot, but in reality, they might need to thank him.
Money talks, but he showed that, at least for some, the bottom line might not always have the final say. And he showed that maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason not to go back to Queens.
That’s the problem: If that’s true for him, it might be true for other free agents.
After all, money may talk, but dysfunction screams.
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.
