Think Rendon’s Bad? We Had $20 Million for Nothing. Lowrie Set the Bar For Being the Worst.

Every few years, baseball social media gathers like villagers with torches and pitchforks to anoint The Worst Free Agent Signing of All Time. This winter, the mob has pointed west, squinting into the Anaheim haze, yelling one name in unison: Anthony Rendon.

And look — fair. Very fair.

The conversation flared back to life because the Angels just quietly reworked the final year of Rendon’s seven-year, $245 million deal, a move that functioned less like roster planning and more like emotional triage. When a team has to restructure a contract simply to survive it, the internet smells blood.

The revision spreads the remaining $38 million owed to Rendon into the future, the baseball equivalent of refinancing a timeshare you never wanted but are legally forbidden to escape. Rendon, who last appeared on a baseball field sometime around the invention of sourdough starter, continues to rehab at home while the Angels attempt to amortize disappointment.

But Mets fans — and this is important — we must not let history be rewritten.

Because while Rendon’s contract has been bad, frustrating, injury-ridden, and spiritually exhausting, it still does not — and cannot — touch the pure, uncut, museum-quality catastrophe that was Jed Lowrie, New York Met.

Once upon a time, Anthony Rendon was everything you wanted in a franchise cornerstone. He starred at Rice University, became a top draft pick, and blossomed in Washington into a complete hitter with power, patience, and October heroics. He collected Silver Sluggers, MVP votes, an RBI crown, and, most importantly, a World Series ring in 2019.

Then the Angels showed up with $245 million and the baseball gods said, “That’s adorable.”

Since signing that contract, Rendon has essentially been a medical symposium in cleats. Groin. Knee. Hamstring. Shin. Oblique. Back. Wrists. Hips. At one point, I’m fairly sure he strained an eyebrow.

Over five seasons in Anaheim, Rendon has appeared in 257 games. That’s barely more than a season and a half — spread out over half a decade. His Angels stat line reads like a typo: a .242 average, 22 home runs, and an OPS that screams “mid-table rental,” not “quarter-billion-dollar savior.”

Financially, it gets bleak fast. Rendon has cost the Angels roughly:

$953,000 per game

$264,000 per at-bat

$1.09 million per hit

That’s not a contract. That’s a Silicon Valley startup burn rate.

And yes, Rendon didn’t help his cause by publicly suggesting baseball was more of a job than a passion — a bold stance when your job pays enough to purchase several small islands.

Still, as ugly as this is… it’s not the worst.

Now, before anyone accuses Mets fans of recency bias or selective amnesia, let’s be clear: this franchise has a long, well-documented history of free agent regret. We’ve lived through Vince Coleman, Jason Bay, Bobby Bonilla, Oliver Perez, George Foster, Luis Castillo, Kazuo Matsui, and yes, even the very recent Frankie Montas experience. Different eras, different dollar amounts, same uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach when the press conference ended.

And yet — here’s the thing — every single one of them had a moment as a Met. Coleman stole bases. Bay hit homers. Bonilla actually played before the punchlines took over. Perez ate innings. Foster had power. Castillo got on base. Matsui had that one April. Montas, at the very least, has taken the mound wearing the uniform.

Jed Lowrie did none of that. Not a hit. Not a play in the field. Not even a fleeting “maybe this is the series” moment. He didn’t underperform — he never performed at all.

Jed Lowrie came to the Mets in January 2019 on the heels of a genuinely excellent season in Oakland. He was an All-Star. He hit for power. He sprayed doubles everywhere. He looked like exactly the kind of steady, professional bat the Mets lineup desperately needed.

Then he arrived in Port St. Lucie and promptly disappeared into baseball folklore.

Lowrie spent the entire 2019 season injured, rehabbing, “getting close,” and doing everything except actually playing baseball. The Mets signed him to a two-year, $20 million deal, and in return, received the kind of statistical footprint usually reserved for Moonlight Graham:

9 games

7 at-bats

0 hits

0 defensive innings

Not zero good hits. Zero hits. Period.

Lowrie later wanted knee surgery. The Mets said no. Lowrie said the Mets threatened to void his contract. The Mets said… well, the Mets said Mets things. Eventually, the season ended, the pandemic happened, and Lowrie left having contributed exactly one thing to the organization: a cautionary tale.

Let’s do the math, because math deserves to feel pain too.

Jed Lowrie’s Mets contract cost approximately:

$2.22 million per game

$2.86 million per at-bat

Infinite dollars per hit

That last number is not hyperbole. You cannot divide by zero. NASA won’t allow it. The Jed Lowrie Mets era was basically Money for Nothing without the guitar solo. No blisters, no sweat, no work just $20 million and no MTV no AVG either.

Rendon, at least, played. He homered. He drove in runs. He stood in a batter’s box long enough for photographers to confirm he exists. His contract is bad, yes — but it contains moments.

Jed Lowrie’s Mets tenure was performance art.

It was two full seasons of anticipation, updates, setbacks, optimism, setbacks, and finally, resignation. Mets fans didn’t boo him — we forgot what he looked like. He became less a player and more a rumor. Like Bigfoot.

And here’s the kicker: Lowrie went on to play again. Just not for the Mets. After leaving New York and finally getting the surgery he wanted, he returned to Oakland and logged real innings, real at-bats, and real hits — confirming that yes, he could play baseball. Just apparently not in Queens.

So Angels fans, we see your pain. We acknowledge it. We respect it. Anthony Rendon’s contract is an all-timer.

Normally, this is where we’d cue up a highlight reel.

Instead, we checked the archives, the hard drives, YouTube, Mets Classics, and a guy on Twitter who owns every VHS tape from 1987.

Nothing.

Jed Lowrie’s Mets highlights are still buffering.

So Mets fans — stand tall.

Because when it comes to the worst free agent signing in baseball history, the Mets didn’t just miss.They paid $20 million for nothing.

And that, my friends, is a record that may never be broken. Happy New Year.