Hit or Error? Baseball Digest's 1996 Rookie Edition Reexamined

Welcome to the 34th installment of Hit or Error, our deep dive into the scouting pages of Baseball Digest, where we sift through past prospect hype to uncover what was real and what was wishful thinking.

This time, we turn to the March 1996 issue, which prominently featured a two-page article on the Mets' much-hyped "Generation K" trio: Bill Pulsipher, Jason Isringhausen, and Paul Wilson. These young pitchers were expected to lead the Mets back to prominence, drawing comparisons to past Mets pitching stars such as Seaver, Koosman, and Matlack .

The scouting reports in this edition singled out four Mets prospects: Paul Wilson and three hitters—Jay Payton, Rey Ordóñez, and Alex Ochoa.

Now, let's examine the scouting reports for the three hitters to see if Baseball Digest's scouts got a hit or an error on these players.

So dust off the old scouting reports, and let's find out: did Baseball Digest make a hit, or commit an error?

The Pulse of Generation K: Bill Pulsipher’s Mets Moment

Jay Payton: A Tale of Resilience and Realization

The scouting report on Jay Payton was glowing: "MVP of Eastern League hitting .345 with 14 home runs and 54 RBIs; has all the tools; has hit for average at all levels; speed and power combination."

At first glance, this assessment seemed spot-on. Payton's minor league performance was stellar, boasting a .316 batting average with 50 home runs and 295 RBIs over 1,961 at-bats.

However, the journey to the majors was anything but smooth. Payton underwent three elbow surgeries—two of which were Tommy John procedures—and a left shoulder surgery, causing him to spend much of his first five professional years on and off the disabled list.

Despite these setbacks, Payton made his MLB debut with the Mets in 1998 and became the starting center fielder by 2000. That year, he played a pivotal role in leading the Mets to the World Series, where he hit a dramatic three-run home run against Mariano Rivera in Game 2.

Over his 12-season MLB career, Payton posted a .279 batting average with 119 home runs and 522 RBIs across 1,259 games. His best season came in 2003 with the Colorado Rockies, where he achieved career highs in home runs (28), RBIs (89), runs (93), hits (181), and a .302 batting average.

While he didn't become a perennial All-Star, Payton's career reflects a commendable realization of his early potential, especially considering the significant injuries he overcame.

So, was Baseball Digest's assessment of Jay Payton a hit or an error? Let's call it a solid single that stretched into a double with some heads-up baserunning. They correctly identified his potential, but injuries and other factors prevented him from fully realizing the five-tool promise. Nonetheless, Payton carved out a commendable MLB career, marked by perseverance and key contributions, especially during the Mets' 2000 postseason run.

Rey Ordóñez: The Wizard of Shea

Let’s go back to 1996 for a moment, when Baseball Digest sized up a Cuban shortstop making the leap to the big leagues: “No one can fill his position better. His range will simply amaze you. Has enough hitting skills to make jump to the majors.”

Well, they nailed the first part like Seaver painting the black. Rey Ordóñez was a human highlight reel with a glove — part shortstop, part magician.

Ordóñez’s range wasn’t just good; it was cinematic. By 1999, he had made the impossible look routine — flipping balls from his knees, gunning down runners while falling backward, turning double plays with his back to the plate as if he had rearview mirrors in his eyeballs. He even set a then–MLB record with 100 consecutive errorless games at short. Rey could’ve fielded a bowling ball with a spoon if you asked him.

But that second part of the scouting report — “enough hitting skills”? That’s where the dream grounded into a routine 4–3. To be fair, Rey did hit enough to reach the majors. The problem was he didn’t hit nearly enough to stick around a lot longer than he did. His lifetime batting average was a respectable-looking .246, but the full story was more sobering. His career on-base percentage was just .289, his slugging a mere .310, good for a career OPS of .600 and an OPS+ of 59 — well below league average. You didn’t need a TI-83 to do that math.

And yet, early on, there were glimmers of hope. In 1999, he posted his most productive season at the plate: a .258 average, a .319 OBP, and his highest walk total (49). But those moments were the exception, not the norm. His bat often made you long for the pitcher to be up next.

The 2000 season began with promise, but it ended in May with a broken arm. From there, the Mets moved on — and so did baseball. Ordóñez bounced to Tampa Bay, then to the Cubs, but the spark was gone. Without the bat to back up his glove, the career that had once looked so bright faded like a Shea Stadium echo.

Still, let’s give Rey his due. He played the game with joy, flash, and ferocity. He didn’t just field his position — he owned it. Fans didn’t go to Shea to see him hit; they went to see what impossible play he’d pull off next. For a few golden years, Rey Ordóñez was the defensive wizard who made Mets fans proud to say, “Yeah, we got that guy at shortstop.”

So, was the scouting report right? Halfway. Range? Off the charts. Hitting skills? Let’s just say he often looked like he was swinging one of those souvenir mini-bats. But when it came to glove work? No one — and I mean no one — made you spill your beer quite like Rey.

Alex Ochoa: A Strong Arm, a Sweet Swing, and a Suitcase Always Packed

The scouting report was a beauty. Straight out of Baseball Digest central casting: “Obtained from the Orioles in the Bobby Bonilla deal. Powerful throwing arm. Line-drive hitter who can hit 15+ homers a year.”

Now, I don’t know who wrote that report, but I hope they kept the receipt. Because while parts of it rang true, others aged about as well as a two-day-old soft pretzel in the sun at Shea.

Let’s start with the facts. Alex Ochoa — born March 29, 1972 — was the classic “tools guy.” Big arm? Oh, absolutely. The man could’ve hit a cutoff man from the Verrazzano Bridge. Smooth swing? Yep. He looked like a ballplayer the way Sinatra looked like a lounge singer — made it look easy. And at times, the production was there. He hit for the cycle in 1996 with the Mets, and to this day remains the only guy to hit for the cycle both in Major League Baseball and Nippon Professional Baseball. The kicker? He did it in reverse order in Japan — homer, triple, double, single. Try pulling that off in a video game. File that one away for your next trivia pursuit night; it’s the kind of quirky fact that’ll make you the MVP of the crowd.

But did he ever become that 15+ homer-a-year guy? Not quite. Not in the bigs, anyway. Ochoa played eight MLB seasons — some with the Mets, then bouncing through Minnesota, Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Colorado, and the 2002 World Champion Angels. He finished his big league career with 46 home runs total. So, yes, if you average that over eight seasons, technically that’s 5.75 dingers per annum — which is still a few shy of the 15 the scouts were daydreaming about. Maybe in Japanese yen the math works differently.

Ochoa’s bat was solid, but not scary. His best year came in 2000 with the Reds, when he hit .316 with a .826 OPS. But power? That wasn’t his calling card. He was a line-drive guy in an era that binged on home runs like it was an all-you-can-eat midnight buffet.

Still, he was no slouch. In fact, Ochoa had that beautiful in-betweenness that frustrates fans but earns respect in the clubhouse. He wasn’t a star, but you wanted him on your team. He could play all three outfield positions, gave you professional at-bats, and had a whip of an arm that froze more runners than an early April home stand at Shea.

After his big-league days, he carved out a nice career in Japan with the Chunichi Dragons and later the Hiroshima Carp — known simply as “Alex” to fans there, like he was a one-name pop star. Then he returned to the States, stepped into coaching with the Red Sox, and kept giving back to the game. A first-base coach, a batting instructor, a special assistant — the man stuck around for the right reasons: he knew the game and respected the grind.

Look, not everyone can be a Hall of Famer or a household name. But every team needs an Alex Ochoa — someone who does the little things right, shows up ready, and gives you the kind of effort that never makes the back pages but always earns a nod from the bench.

So, that scouting report? Like a lot of them, it saw the potential — and some of it came true. The cannon of an arm? Absolutely. The bat? Flashes, but never fireworks. But respect the journey. Because Alex Ochoa may not have turned into a 30-homer slugger, but he played across two continents, hit for two cycles, won a ring, and kept the suitcase ready at all times. Not too shabby for a guy who once came to Queens in a deal for Bobby Bonilla — and ended up with fewer zeroes on his paycheck, but a heck of a lot more likability.

So, what’s the final scorecard on these scouting reports from Baseball Digest’s March ’96 issue? Like any scout’s crystal ball, some calls hit the sweet spot, others found the warning track, and a few sailed out of the park in the wrong direction. Jay Payton showed the grit and talent to make good on much of his promise despite the injury curveballs. Rey Ordóñez dazzled with the glove but left us wishing his bat had learned the dance steps, too. And Alex Ochoa? Well, he wasn’t quite the 15-homer dream, but he was the dependable pro every team needs—always ready, always steady, and with a highlight reel arm that could scare a cutoff man silly.

In the end, these guys remind us why baseball is the ultimate game of patience and possibility. Not every prospect becomes a legend, but every player’s story adds a chapter to the rich tapestry of Mets lore—and that, my friends, is the real hit. Until week when we turn to 1997, keep your eye on the ball and your trivia facts ready.