You ever watch a show that peaked in season one and then somehow limped along for five more years because the network didn’t know when to quit? Yeah, that was the 2025 New York Mets season for us fans.
This season felt like a reboot nobody ordered. The writers were out of ideas, the cast looked confused, and the showrunner kept pretending everything was fine while the ratings tanked. Steve Cohen’s “win now but also later” experiment played out like a Netflix drama with too many subplots and no clear direction, and yet, like the diehards we are, we watched every single episode, hoping it’d get better after the next commercial break.
Episode 1: “Hope Springs Eternal (Until June)”
Opening scene: Spring Training. The vibes were strong, the sound bites were clean, and every player was saying the same thing: “We like this group.” Mets fans, like the suckers we are, bought in. The trailers looked great, Alonso’s contract drama was the cliffhanger, Kodai Senga was coming back healthy, and Francisco Lindor swore this was “the year.”
Fast-forward two months and the plot collapsed faster than a bullpen in Philly. Injuries hit, the offense ghosted us, and suddenly we were binge-watching disaster episodes titled “Five-Game Losing Streak,” “The Return of the Ghost Runner,” and my personal favorite, “The Mets Get Swept by the Freakin’ Pirates.”
Episode 5: “Meet the New Manager, Same as the Old Manager”
Carlos Mendoza was supposed to be the fresh face, the relatable guy who could manage personalities and analytics. Instead, he became the straight man in a sitcom nobody was laughing at. One week he’s calm and composed; the next he’s explaining to the media why the closer came in during the seventh inning of a game we were losing by four.
It’s not his fault entirely. This script was doomed from the writers’ room. Billy Eppler’s ghost still haunts the front office, and David Stearns looks like he’s holding a Rubik’s Cube that’s missing two colors.
Episode 9: “Character Development? Never Heard of It.”
Lindor had his moments, a few clutch hits, a few “I still believe” speeches, but the rest of the lineup felt like background extras. Alonso was either mashing homers or mentally auditioning for another team. Nimmo played hard but couldn’t carry the comedy alone, and the pitching staff? Let’s just say it felt like they were all written off mid-season due to budget cuts.
Remember when every game felt like an adventure? Now it’s like watching reruns of CSI: Citi Field, where we already know who committed the error but still have to sit through the slow-motion replay.
Episode 13: “The Trade Deadline Twist”
Ah yes, the mid-season “plot twist.” Except this year’s twist was that… nothing really happened. Cohen teased a blockbuster, fans refreshed Twitter like maniacs, and then we got a reliever from Tampa with a 4.90 ERA and a “sneaky good spin rate.” It’s the Mets version of adding a random cousin to the cast to boost ratings.
Season Finale: “To Be Continued…”
The finale wasn’t explosive. It was just sad. The team trotted out the September call-ups like new supporting characters, hoping one might test well with audiences. Cohen went on record saying, “We’re building something sustainable,” which is billionaire code for “We don’t know what the hell this is yet.”
But here’s the thing, we’ll be back. We always are. Mets fandom isn’t about logic, it’s about loyalty. It’s about showing up for the next season premiere, beer in hand, telling ourselves “This might be the year.” We’re the MLB version of the NFL’s version, Dallas Cowboys fans.
And maybe that’s what makes this franchise so damn watchable, it’s the ultimate tragicomedy. A show that’s been running since 1962 with no Emmy wins, constant cast turnover, and a fanbase that deserves royalties for emotional labor.
So yeah, 2025 was the season nobody asked for. But like all great cult classics, the Mets will find a way to hook us again. A new signing here, a hot start there, a little bit of magic in Flushing, and suddenly we’re sucked back into another year of pain, pride, and possibility.
Because being a Mets fan isn’t about the ending. It’s about watching the chaos unfold, episode after episode, hoping the next scene is the one where it all finally makes sense.
Next Week on Random Mets Fans:
We’re pitching our ideas for Season 2026, a gritty reboot starring competent pitching, timely hitting, and maybe, just maybe, a postseason cameo.
Join the writers’ room at RandomMetsFans.com, where fans, not front offices, control the script.