Hit or Error? Baseball Digest's 1998 Rookie Edition Reexamined

Welcome to the 36th installment of Hit or Error, our weekly time-travel trip through the pages of Baseball Digest, where we relive the optimism of spring through the cracked lens of Mets fandom and wonder, once again, how many “future stars” turned out to be future trivia answers.

This week, we dust off the March 1998 issue, back when Titanic ruled the box office, Seinfeld ruled Thursday nights, and Baseball Digest confidently rolled out its crop of can’t-miss rookies. Names like Kerry Wood and Ben Grieve were getting the kind of ink usually reserved for royalty or Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ballots.

Then we turned to the Mets page.

Let’s just say the hype wasn’t exactly overwhelming. Only four rookies made the cut—two returning faces in pitcher Derek Wallace and outfielder Jay Payton, both of whom had already logged major league time and injury history, and two newcomers: catcher Vance Wilson, a blue-collar backstop who looked like he might someday make a dependable bullpen catcher… and Preston Wilson, the highly-touted outfielder with serious power, serious speed, and the kind of baseball bloodlines you needed a flowchart to keep up with.

So the question, as always, is simple: Did Baseball Digest make a hit… or commit an error?

Let’s find out.

Vance Wilson: Intense Gamer or Intense Backup ?

The March 1998 Baseball Digest scouting report didn’t exactly mince words. “Solid defensive catcher with ability to hit for average plus power, intense gamer, leader on the field.” Read that and you’d think the Mets had stumbled onto a right-handed version of Carlton Fisk—with a buzz cut and a pack of Big League Chew in his back pocket.

For a franchise still spinning its wheels in the long shadow of Gary Carter, Wilson sounded like a godsend. But like so many Mets catching prospects over the years, he came with a heavy dose of what-ifs, almosts, and injury reports longer than a CVS receipt.

Wilson’s pro journey began when the Mets took him in the 44th round of the 1993 draft. That’s right—the 44th round. At that point in the draft, teams are usually picking guys who might one day make a great assistant JV coach. But Wilson, a local hero in Mesa, Arizona, and a Junior College All-American at Mesa CC, was determined to beat the odds.

And beat them he did—eventually. After five years of wrestling with injuries and bouncing around the Mets’ minor league system, he made his big league debut on April 24, 1999. A defensive sub, fittingly. It wouldn’t be until late 2001 that he finally found a regular seat on the bench—as Mike Piazza’s backup.

Now, imagine being a catcher trying to make your mark while standing directly behind one of the most feared hitters in the game. That was Wilson’s fate in New York. But while Piazza hit moonshots, Wilson did the gritty stuff: working pitchers through jams, cutting down base stealers, and popping out to second when you just needed a productive out.

He never hit more than eight home runs in a season and owned a career slugging percentage that had all the thump of a paperback. That “plus power” Baseball Digest promised? If that was plus, then I’m a candidate for the Home Run Derby. But defensively? The man was nails. From 2001 to 2004, he was near the top of the league in gunning down base runners. And pitchers? They loved throwing to him. He called a clean game and kept them calm—sort of a bullpen psychologist in shin guards.

In 2005, the Mets shipped Wilson to Detroit for second baseman Anderson Hernández. New team, same gig—this time backing up another future Hall of Famer, Iván Rodríguez. When Pudge hit the injured list in 2005, Wilson finally got a run of starts and reminded everyone why he had been so highly regarded in the first place.

But, as had been the story from the beginning, the injury bug came back. A torn forearm muscle in 2007 required Tommy John surgery (a catcher needing Tommy John—only the Mets, right?). He never really got back on track after that. Plantar fasciitis added insult to injury (literally), and by 2008, he’d filed for free agency. A brief stint with the Royals organization followed, but he hung up his spikes for good in 2010.

That wasn’t the end of his baseball story, though. Wilson slipped seamlessly into coaching, managing Royals minor league affiliates and eventually joining the big club’s staff. He’s now the third base coach in Kansas City, waving home runners and no doubt offering young catchers the kind of wisdom that only eight seasons of bruises and backup duty can provide.

So—was the scouting report right?

Well, they nailed the gamer part. The leadership, the toughness, the defensive chops? All real. But that “plus power” claim? Let’s call that a scouting slip-up. Not quite a full-blown E-2, but definitely one the official scorer should think about.

Verdict: Respectable Error. Wilson never became the heir to Gary Carter’s throne, but he gave the Mets meaningful innings, was beloved in the clubhouse, and kept showing up no matter how many times his body tried to shut him down. In the world of backup catchers, that’s about as close to stardom as it gets

Preston Wilson: Scouting Report Says Superstar. Baseball Says… Kinda?

In the early ’90s, the name Preston Wilson carried serious weight in scouting circles. “Gifted athlete with unlimited potential,” read the reports. “He can hit with power and play defense. He will be an impact player at the Major League level.”

He had the pedigree—Mookie Wilson’s stepson and nephew (yes, both)—and the tools. Power, speed, glove, arm—check, check, check, check. The Mets took him in the first round in ’92, and fans dreamed of a Mookie 2.0.

Instead, he played just eight games in a Mets uniform before being dealt to Florida in the Mike Piazza trade. So, in a way, Preston did impact the Mets—just not in the way Flushing had hoped.

In Florida, Wilson proved the scouts weren’t dreaming. He hit 26 homers as a rookie in 1999, then went 30–30 the following year with 121 RBIs. He was electric… and he struck out a lot. In 2000, he fanned 187 times—just shy of the MLB record at the time.

Still, you lived with the Ks because he could beat you with the bat, the glove, or his legs. He wasn’t a perfect player, but he was exciting—and he was his team’s best bat for a stretch.

Traded to Colorado, Preston peaked in 2003: 36 homers, 141 RBIs, and his only All-Star selection. Yes, it was Coors Field, but plenty of guys played there and never sniffed those numbers. It was validation of the tools everyone saw from the start.

After Colorado, knee injuries and inconsistency took hold. He bounced from Washington to Houston to St. Louis, winning a World Series with the Cardinals in 2006. A brief stint with the Long Island Ducks followed before he hung up his spikes.

His final tally: 189 home runs, 668 RBIs, 124 stolen bases—and a career that touched both promise and perseverance.

So, did he live up to the scouting report? In bursts, yes. He never became a superstar, but he was a legitimate impact player during his prime. A 30–30 guy. A league RBI leader. A World Series champ.

If we’re scoring it, Preston Wilson’s career wasn’t a home run, but it wasn’t a strikeout either. Call it a stand-up double—and a reminder that baseball’s journey rarely follows a clean scouting line.

And so, as we close another chapter of Hit or Error, it’s clear that the Mets’ 1998 crop was a mixed bag of grit, flashes, and “almost-there.” Vance Wilson showed us that sometimes heart and hustle matter just as much as the home runs you don’t quite hit, while Preston Wilson reminded us that potential can light up the game—if only for a brilliant, imperfect moment or two. Baseball, like life, doesn’t always give you the superstar you dreamed of. Sometimes, it hands you a steady glove, a battle-worn catcher, or a fiery outfielder who dances between promise and the tough grind of reality. And for a Mets fan, that’s just another day in paradise. Here’s to the hopeful hits, the respectful errors, and the endless love of the game that keeps us coming back for more.