The Day Before Opening Day: Three Mets Voices, and 162 Reasons to Believe

There is something wonderfully strange about the day before Opening Day. It’s like a rehearsal dinner where the speeches are polished, the mood is perfect, and everyone knows tomorrow is when it actually gets real.

And somewhere between the stretching, the smiling, and the ceremonial pretending not to be nervous, Mets manager Carlos Mendoza stepped to the microphone and did what all managers do this time of year—he told the truth, but in a way that makes you feel like you’re being let in on a secret.

The final roster decisions? “Pretty close,” he said, which in baseball terms means someone made it by the width of a rosin bag. The nod went to Richard "Don't Call Me Dicky" Lovelady over Bryan Hudson for his ability to go “multiple innings, strong strikes,” and get lefties out, while the bench decision leaned to Jared Young for his versatility and “that extra left-handed hitter off the bench.” In other words, chess pieces, not checkers.

And if you’re wondering about backup shortstop duties behind Francisco Lindor, Mendoza didn’t blink: “Bo is probably going to be the one… if we need to.” Translation: Lindor plays unless the sun briefly forgets to rise.

When asked what surprised him most this spring—a question I’ll modestly point out was mine—Mendoza zigged instead of zagged. “I wouldn’t say surprise,” he said, which is exactly what you say before giving an answer that sounds suspiciously like one. He pointed to the team getting through camp “relatively healthy” (a phrase Mets fans treat like a rare vintage wine), but then circled to Freddy Peralta, noting the immediate impact of “how good of a person this guy is… the way he carried himself… just go about his business.”

File that away. It comes back later.

Mendoza saved some of his best material for Carson Benge, describing a player who “doesn’t get too high, doesn’t get too low,” which in New York is basically sainthood. “I was surprised that I finally got a smile from him,” Mendoza admitted, which might be the most New York compliment ever delivered. Benge he said, is steady, mature, and ready—he’ll “play a lot,” though the Mets will “protect him” from the 162-game mental grind. Think of it as giving a rookie both the keys to the car and a very cautious GPS.

As for the lineup, Mendoza practically beamed. “It’s fun, I’m not going to lie, writing those names in the lineup,” he said, before admitting the hard part is leaving guys out because “it’s deep.” Thirteen players who could start elsewhere, all crammed into one dugout. It’s the kind of problem that keeps a manager up at night—in a good way.

Then again, sleep might be overrated anyway.

“Opening Day is like the first day at school,” Mendoza said. “You wake up and it’s like, OK, it’s go time.”

Will he sleep? “Probably not… that’s what you want, right?”

A few hours later, Freddy Peralta walked in smiling, which, according to everyone in the organization, is how he walks into everything—including traffic, presumably.

“It’s very exciting,” he said of getting the Opening Day start. “Grateful about the opportunity.” And if you’re looking for bluster, you won’t find it here. Peralta doesn’t puff out his chest; he just shows up with it already filled with air.

When I told him Mendoza singled him out earlier for his energy and positivity, Peralta didn’t deflect—he explained.

“I grew up like that… my parents and family taught me that’s the best way to be,” he said. “It’s natural for me. I don’t try to do it.”

He talked about being the same person every day, about teammates from other clubs coming over just to say hello, about how “you don’t play baseball forever,” but relationships might last a little longer than a hanging curveball.

And then he gave you the identity of the 2026 Mets without ever putting it on a T-shirt:

“We are all on the same page… we are all connected… we care about each other.”

It’s the kind of thing that sounds like spring training poetry until you realize he means it.

As for Opening Day pressure? He didn’t run from it.

“Bigger responsibility and commitment,” he said simply.

Facing Paul Skenes? No ducking there either.

“I know that he’s great… but I see it that we’re facing each other… I give my best for me and my team.”

Not intimidation. Not indifference. Competition.

And when asked about his role as a leader on a team full of new faces, Peralta kept circling back to the same idea:

“Just try to be myself every day… results don’t matter… I have to be the same guy next day.”

It’s the kind of philosophy that sounds simple until you try it during a three-game skid in Philadelphia.

Then came David Stearns, who approached the podium like a man who had just finished assembling a very complicated piece of furniture and was cautiously optimistic that no screws were left over.

“I like the group,” he said. “I like where they are.” Which, translated from front-office dialect, is roughly equivalent to a standing ovation.

He described a “well-balanced group” that can “withstand what comes at us,” acknowledging, as all honest baseball people do, that not everything will go perfectly. (Somewhere, a Mets fan nodded knowingly.)

Stearns called this one of his favorite days of the year—the workout before Opening Day—because “you can exhale for half a day and enjoy it.” That’s baseball’s version of a spa treatment.

When I asked about balancing internal options versus players cut loose by other teams, (see Drew Smith, and Joey Lucchesi )he framed it exactly as it is:

“It’s always a balance… familiarity with guys who have been in our camp… and information from other ballparks.”

In the end? “This year we felt pretty good about what we had in-house.”

Translation: We built this thing for a reason.

And yes, Peralta’s name came up again.

“Big smile, authenticity, love of baseball,” Stearns said. “And then when he takes the mound… he’s as competitive as anyone.” The trick, apparently, is being both the nicest guy in the room and the one most likely to ruin your afternoon.

So here we are.

A manager who can’t sleep.

A pitcher who doesn’t stop smiling.

An executive who finally gets to watch his blueprint take the field.

And a roster that, on paper, looks like it might just be deep enough, steady enough, and connected enough to make all of this more than just a nice March story.

Because as Mendoza put it, with just enough honesty to make you believe him:

“Our goal is… playing deep into October… and winning the World Series is the goal.”

Tomorrow, the games start counting.

Today?

Today, the Mets look exactly like a team that believes him.

We’d love to hear your thoughts on the Mets heading into Opening Day. Which new faces are you most excited about, and what do you expect from Freddy Peralta, Carson Bowe, and the rest of the team this season? Drop your comments below, and join our Kiner’s Korner Facebook group—where Mets fans debate, predict, and occasionally insist they called it before the first pitch.