Rewriting Mets History: The Reggie Jackson Draft Day Alternative
- Mark Rosenman

- May 22
- 4 min read

It started on a dreary, gray afternoon—the kind where you go looking for something to do and wind up neck-deep in nostalgia and mildly dangerous hypotheticals.
As a lifelong Mets fan, I’ve always loved my guys — even the ones who couldn’t hit a curveball or hold a lead in the ninth. But even as a kid, I was building fantasy rosters in my head long before it was a thing. I’d mix and match my favorite players from other teams and imagine them in Mets pinstripes.
Armed with ChatGPT and a stack of Topps cards that smell like bubble gum and heartbreak, I started reimagining my favorite stars as Mets. Reggie launching bombs onto the Shea scoreboard, Bench gunning down runners at second, Clemente climbing fences like Spider-Man, and Koufax freezing hitters with that left-handed sorcery — all in blue and orange.

Then it hit me:
What if the Mets had drafted Reggie Jackson with the first overall draft pick instead of Steve Chilcott in 1966?
Yeah. That one. The big one. The Original Mets What If.

Chilcott, a lefty-hitting catcher with tools, got hurt roughly 17 seconds after signing and never made the majors. Reggie, picked second by the Kansas City A's, hit 563 home runs, won five rings, and made more October memories than Halloween. One guy vanished. The other became Mr. October.
So let’s fire up the old Wayback Machine — batteries charged, bow tie straight, and coordinates set for 1966. Somewhere, Mr. Peabody is explaining to Sherman how the amateur draft works while casually rewriting baseball history between puns. But this time, we're not helping Marie Antoinette avoid the guillotine — we’re helping the Mets avoid Steve Chilcott.

Because in this version of events, the Mets don’t blink. They don’t overthink. They take Reggie Jackson with the first pick in the 1966 draft. And just like that, everything changes.
1966 The Mets take Reggie Jackson with the #1 overall pick. Steve Chilcott still exists, but maybe he becomes a dentist or an excellent high school umpire.
Reggie starts in A-ball, hits .290 with 20 bombs, and Mets scouts high-five in parking lots for months.

1967 Reggie debuts in July for the last-place Mets. He hits .240 with 10 homers in 70 games and instantly becomes the most exciting thing in Queens not involving construction delays.
Mets go 63-99 (up from real-life 61-101). Fans celebrate improvement like it’s a pennant.
1968 Reggie gets his first full season, slugs 25 homers, and makes Shea's upper deck his personal practice target. The Mets go 77-85, thanks to Seaver, Koosman, and now Reggie. Manager Gil Hodges quietly wonders if his lineup might finally beat the .220 team batting average threshold.
1969: World Series Champions, With Bonus Firepower The real-life Miracle Mets win 100 games and the World Series. In our version, with Reggie replacing Ron Swoboda/Art Shamsky, they win 105. Reggie hits 47 homers, knocks in 120, and hits two into the parking lot against Baltimore.
Swoboda’s diving catch slowly vanishes from that old Polaroid, just like the McFlys fading out of their family photo in Back to the Future.
1970-72 Reggie averages 35 homers, 100 RBI, and 6 WAR a year. Mets flirt with 90 wins annually but fall short of the playoffs (remember, this is pre-Wild Card). Still, Shea is rocking, and the offense no longer has the punch of a soggy knish.
Nolan Ryan is never traded for Jim Fregosi because the Mets aren't desperate for bats. Ryan becomes Seaver’s co-ace, and opposing hitters openly cry.
1973: Ya Gotta Believe... and Win In real life, the Mets made the World Series and lost in seven games to Reggie’s A’s. In our version, Reggie hits .300 with 32 HR during the season, and then helps the Mets take down the A’s in a full-circle Series showdown.
Mets win in six. Reggie is Series MVP. Tug McGraw hugs him so hard Reggie drops his sunglasses.

1974-76 Reggie keeps mashing. The Mets remain contenders but can’t get over the NLCS hump. Still, they average 90+ wins and don’t become the "Ya Gotta Rebuild" Mets of reality.
1977: The Seaver Trade That Never Was Here’s the big one. With Reggie as a franchise centerpiece and ownership finally seeing dollar signs in the stands, the front office doesn’t implode. Tom Seaver stays.
No Midnight Massacre. No emotional scars. No "The Franchise" being shipped off like a crate of rosin bags.
1977-80: The Dynasty Window
1977: Mets win 92 games, lose NLCS to Dodgers.
1978: Reggie hits 36 homers, Mets win 97 and go to World Series. Lose to Yankees in 7. Reggie has mixed feelings.
1979: Mets beat Orioles in 6. Reggie MVP again. Seaver throws two complete games.
1980: Mets fall in NLCS, but Reggie hits HR #500 and tips cap at Shea.

Reggie finishes his Mets career with 540 HR, 4 World Series rings, 12 All-Star nods, and a permanent spot on Mets Mount Rushmore. No one ever utters the words "Steve Chilcott" again, except in pub trivia. And forget the Pete Alonso chase for the franchise home run record—Strawberry’s 252 long balls would leave him a distant second 288 homers away from Reggie’s 540 .

Reggie enters Cooperstown in a Mets cap. Yankee fans are furious. Mets fans weep with joy. Even the candy aisle got a piece of the action, with Reggie Bars enduring as a beloved treat — proof that the man was as much a legend off the field as on it.





If the Mets had drafted Jackson, held on to Ryan, Seaver, Amos Otis and Ken Singleton, the dynasty that never was in the 1980's would have become the dynasty that never was in the 1970's. Make no doubt about it: the organization would have found a way to have flushed all of that talent down just as they did in the post-1986 era.