An hour or so after the Mets’ season ended last October, Francisco Lindor stood in front of his locker, contact lenses out and eyeglasses on, and left me with two words to head into the offseason: “Push it.”
By “it,” Lindor meant the notion of Carlos Beltran returning to the organization. He wanted to use any means necessary, including the media, to help move that process along.
By then, Beltran had already taken the first step out of an excessive exile. His time away from the team he was once supposed to manage will finally end this week when he signs a contract to become an assistant to general manager Billy Eppler.
The first seeds for this were planted late in the regular season.
On September 15, Beltran returned to Citi Field for the first time since the Mets fired him in February 2020, following revelations of his involvement in the Houston Astros’ sign-stealing scandal. The ostensible reason for that return was a gathering of past Roberto Clemente Award winners, but for Beltran, the day represented an additional layer of meaning, and an emotionally fraught one.
Leading up to pregame introductions of the honorees, Beltran felt nervous, friends of his say. He was expecting to hear boos.
That did not happen. Fans cheered Beltran. Then, during the game, Beltran visited Steve Cohen’s box and met the owner for the first time. The two enjoyed a pleasant chat, during which Beltran mentioned that Cohen’s commitment to winning would turn the Mets into a preferred destination for free agents. Beltran also spent quality time with owner Alex Cohen.
He left the ballpark that night feeling relieved, with a sense that the evening might be a first step of some kind. The word he used with one friend was “productive.”
Down in the Mets’ clubhouse that day, two of the team’s brightest stars hoped that would be the case.
“He’s with the Yankees on the TV broadcast,” Lindor said, referring to Beltran’s year as a broadcaster for the YES Network. “Hopefully when he gets back to wanting to be on the field or front office, whatever he wants to do, I hope he gets the opportunity. Would I want him to be here? One hundred percent.”
Closer Edwin Diaz felt the same way.
“He knows so much about baseball,” Diaz said. “He can help the youngest players to develop.”
As natives of Puerto Rico, Lindor and Diaz understand the depth of Beltran’s commitment to teaching. His baseball academy on the island has turned out scores of high school graduates; at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the academy in 2011, Beltran wept.
It was that love of mentorship, combined with his baseball IQ, that landed Beltran in trouble. As a member of the Astros, he was a part of a group that took advantage of advanced technology to steal opponents’ signs via a live video feed.
It was cheating. It was unethical. But it was also a twisted outgrowth of Beltran’s passion for teaching, in this case teaching the art of picking up signs. It began as legit, added technology, and crossed the line. Other contributing factors included an amoral front office culture and a bench coach in Alex Cora who was also skilled at stealing signs. Good people did bad things.