The Victor Zambrano Decision

(Note: Pieces by Sip and Cheddar Ben follow this one by A.F.O.M.G.)

The date was April 19, 2006. The night before, the Mets had been unceremoniously destroyed by the Braves. Final score 7-1. It was only our third loss in 13 games.

The following morning I woke up pissed. My ire, like everyone else's in Metsville, was directed toward the man who started the previous night's exercise in humiliation, Victor Zambrano.

"I'm sick of Victor Zambrano," I wrote at the time. "I'm sick of his grimace. I'm sick of his sad-sack, loser's demeanor. I'm sick of feeling that it would take a miracle for the Mets to win a game with him on the hill."

Eighteen days later I had softened somewhat. The news that Zambrano had been lost for the season was fresh, for me, when I opened the morning newspapers. After processing it all, I wrote the following:

"I feel as though I should be elated. I mean, I really, really dislike Zambrano. But there are competing emotions here.

The truth is, I feel bad for the guy. My heart goes out to him when I hear that he was crying in the clubhouse because he's not going to be there to take the ball every fifth day.

My heart goes out to him (if only for a brief moment) when I put myself in his shoes and consider the unfair burden of expectation that accompanies his every moment in a Mets uniform."

Zoom forward to the present and the Mets are faced with decision time on Tricky Vic. The Mets have until midnight tonight to tender Zambrano a contract, or risk losing him via free agency. Should the Mets tender a contract, it would be for a minimum of $2.4 million.

Just as I was on that day in early May, I'm conflicted.

In an offseason when Andy Pettitte commands $16/22.4 million to be a third starter, or Gil Meche is given 5 years and $55 million, is it really such a bad investment to re-up with a guy with back-of-the-rotation potential at a measly $2.4 million?

Economically speaking, resigning Zambrano is the right move. As we saw in 2006, you can never have enough options when it comes to starting pitching. Zambrano's bad, but he's not Jose Lima bad, so in at least one respect he would represent an upgrade.

But we also learned something else in 2006, beyond the need for a surplus of starting pitching. We learned what a pleasure it is to have a universally likeable team.

We've all got our favorites and least favorites, but after Kaz Matsui was traded for a bag of balls (sorry, Eli), the Mets were truly lightning rod-free for the first time in recent memory.

Every era has players the fans despise, guys who are sometimes called people we love to hate. That's a misnomer, in my experience at least. I have never once relished hating a member of the Mets, I've always just wished they would go away.

Who am I talking about here? I'm talking about the Bobby Bonillas, the Armando Benitezes (after a point anyway), the Roger Cedenos, the Robbie Alomars, the Kaz Matsuis...

And yes, the Victor Zambranos.

Short of rescuing John Rocker from his charity work (incidentally, I'm sure those "Speak English" t-shirts would go over HUGE in the Mets' clubhouse), Zambrano is as despised a player as the Mets could possibly field in 2006.

Do we really want that element on our team in 2007? Do we really want a guy whose very name will demand a loud and lusty boo from the home crowd?

Do we even need him? Does he really come in higher on the depth chart than John Maine, Dave Williams, Oliver Perez, Mike Pelfrey, or Phil Humber?

He's said he's willing to pitch out of the bullpen; can you imagine how queasy it would be watching a wild arm like that come out of the bullpen? If he started the first batter of an inning 2-0 the crowd would be on him like white on the new Y2K background.

That all said, from a baseball perspective it probably does make sense to tender Zambrano a contract. He's not higher than Pelfrey or Humber on the depth chart, but we should do everything we can to avoid being in a position where we simply have to rush one of them up.

But it'll be an interesting decision. Is it more desirable to have a stable of arms or to have a team that won't be subjected to the crowd's ire? Booing like that can be cancerous. It can bring an entire team down with it, at least once every fifth day.

Me? The fan in me wants him gone, but the baseball observer knows he should stay.

Salt.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(All pictures in the article above appear courtesy of MLB.com)