Deadline Deals and Dugout Feels: G.Soto, Garrett, Lindor and Mullins on the Mood After the Moves

Well, the dust has settled, the rumors have cooled, and the Mets have come out the other side of the trade deadline looking less like sellers or buyers, more like sculptors, and they’ve chiseled themselves a bullpen out of granite.

On post deadline day, I caught up with the players, some new and some familiar ,Gregory Soto, Reed Garrett, Francisco Lindor and Cedric Mullins just to get a sense of the mood, the mindset, and whether anyone had checked Edwin Díaz for actual jet fuel in his arm.

Let’s start with the new kid in town, Gregory Soto, who smiled like a guy who had just found out the hotel had free breakfast and late checkout.

“I felt really good,” Soto told me of hearing he’d been traded to the Mets. “It’s something I was waiting for, so I feel really happy to be here.”

Now that’s a quote that makes you want to take off your hat and wave it like you’re sitting in the bleachers at Shea. Soto, a two-time All-Star with gas to burn, looked around this Mets bullpen like a kid walking into a candy store where everything throws 98 MPH.

“Seriously, no—I’ve never been around this many quality arms,” he said, practically beaming. “It’s emotional, to be part of that.”

That emotion? That wasn’t just him being polite. You could feel it. Soto knows bullpens have changed. You don’t just show up, grab a towel, and wait for the eighth. With this group, you might get the fifth, the seventh, or be told, “Warm up just in case we go extras and need you to pitch the 14th.” Soto’s ready for that. “Same mindset,” he said. “Go in and do my job.”

And as for Edwin Díaz?

“I like the way he throws the ball, the fastball, the way he competes.”

Same, Soto. Same.

Next up, Reed Garrett. He’s been here, done this, and still managed to sound like a guy who just got invited to an exclusive party—only to find out he’s one of the hosts.

Garrett admitted the week leading up to the deadline was tough, especially seeing José Buttó get dealt. “That one kind of hurt,” Garrett said. “Good friend of mine.”

You saw it on television, Buttó sitting in the bullpen, clearly emotional, clearly processing. This isn’t fantasy baseball. These guys aren’t just names on a transaction wire. They’re people, friends, teammates, sometimes for years. And when one of them packs up his cleats and leaves, it doesn’t just leave a hole in the roster. It leaves one in the room.

Still, Garrett knows the drill. “We got some studs,” he said, referring to Soto, Tyler Rogers, Ryan Helsley, and the rest of the new-look 'pen. “Different looks. Velo. Rodgers is like something out of a video game.”

He’s not wrong. One minute you’re facing 100 from Soto, the next you’re watching a submarine slider break like it’s got a mind of its own.

The best part? Nobody in this pen is hung up on who gets the ninth.

“There's no ego,” Garrett said. “Edwin? We saw him pitch the seventh and eighth in the playoffs. Helsley? He’s here to win. We’re all just pulling the same rope.”

And then there's Francisco Lindor. If anyone has perspective, it’s him. He’s been through these deadlines before, and he knows the emotional rollercoaster well.

“You always hope that you’re adding, not subtracting,” he told me. “That means you did something right. You’re going for it.”

When I asked if players act like fans and gossip about rumors, Lindor grinned.

“I’m a fan of the game,” he said, diplomatically. “We talk about it, but it’s not like, ‘We need this guy.’”

But when Francisco Lindor spotted his former teammate Justin Verlander emerging from the Giants dugout and the two met at midfield for a hug without hesitation, it was a reminder once you're a teammate, you're always connected. So when José Buttó returns to Citi Field just days after he is traded with red eyes and a uniform still hanging in his mets locker, you remember, this isn’t just a business. It’s a family. A weird, beautiful, clubhouse-sharing, sunflower-seed-spitting family.

Lindor put it best when talking about the newcomers.

“They’re electric,” he said. “Good clubhouse guys. I’m excited.”

You and me both, Francisco.

And last but not least , Cedric Mullens who basically walked out of an Uber into a dugout press conference.

“It’s been hectic,” he admitted. “I just got here, wanted to get outside, take some swings, meet the guys. It’s been awesome.”

Mullins, a lifelong Oriole until about 24 hours ago, took the trade in stride. “It’s kind of a hard thing to describe,” he said. “I’ve been with Baltimore my whole career. But it’s part of the business. Overall, I’m excited.”

And why not? He’s been hot lately—batting over .300 in his last 21 games.

“I’ve been working on a few things,” Mullins said. “I finally found that cue. It’s paying off.”

As for what he brings to the Mets?

“Speed. Defense. A little power. Some bunts. I try to bring a little of everything.”

He’s even figured out lefties—a longtime struggle. “I’m seeing the ball better. Some offseason adjustments helped.”

His goal now? “Bring a ring back to the city,” Mullins said without hesitation.

Sounds good, Cedric.

So here we are: post-deadline, post-hand-wringing, and pre-stretch run. This Mets team might not have done what the Padres or Yankees did. But they didn’t need to. What they did do was shore up two areas that could make or break their October dreams.

They rebuilt the bullpen into a unit that can outmatch, outlast, and—if needed—outweird any lineup in baseball. And they added a sparkplug in Cedric Mullins—an elite defender, a speed threat, and a guy who knows how to manufacture a run when it matters most.

They didn’t just add names. They added difference-makers.

No egos, no drama—just arms, speed, and attitude.

The stretch run starts now.

Let’s play ball.