If the season were to end today, the Mets would be going to the playoffs. They'd be facing the Phillies in the Wild Card round with the likes of Juan Soto and Francisco Lindor and Pete Alonso. They'd be doing it with one of the best bullpens in baseball, courtesy of Edwin Diaz, Ryan Helsley and Tyler Rogers.
And we'd all be sitting here wondering if it would take the Phillies two games or three to make it to the division series.
It sounds harsh, but reality often can be, and make no mistake about it, we've officially reached the doomsday portion of the schedule.
The Mets visit Milwaukee this weekend, home to the hottest team in baseball, as one of the sport's coldest. When they get there, it'll be impossible not to remember the last time they were at American Family Field.
That time was nothing short of magic.
That was a team that was, at one point, 11 games under .500, and scratched and clawed its way into the playoffs on the last day of their season. They were seemingly sprinkled with pixie dust - spurred by about 10 different talismans, a core of veterans who refused to say die, and the power of friendship.
And then, with the season on the line, Alonso - the homegrown Met playing in what could have been his final game with the franchise - hit the most majestic home run of his career.
Fans have made TikTok montages of that homer. It's been set to the "Moneyball" soundtrack. There are T-shirts.
It was out of a movie. But to be fair, this recent stretch seems to be out of a movie, too. Just maybe one directed by Wes Craven.
So, what happened?
Well, they can't hit at the moment, a starter pitching six innings is a minor miracle, and even small deficits feel insurmountable. They're 25-30 since June 3, and it's clear they're simply just...perplexed. They look perplexed at the plate, and they sound perplexed when contemplating why, exactly, this $339 million team populated with some of the best players in baseball is consistently putting together nine straight innings of weak ground balls and non-competitive at-bats.
"We're not seeing conviction," Carlos Mendoza said after they were nearly no-hit by the Guardians Wednesday. "We go in with a gameplan, and we haven't been able to make adjustments as they make adjustments to us as a whole, as a team."
It could very well be a coaching issue - hitting coaches Jeremy Barnes and Eric Chavez are getting plenty of heat. But even if one or both were fired tomorrow, it very well could do little to change the fact that you can coach players as much as you want; the thing is, they still have to go out and do it.
And that, too, is perplexing. Because even if it truly is a coaching issue, the Mets lineup is full of smart, veteran hitters, who've had success for a long time. It seems nearly absurd that a team with Soto, Alonso and Lindor can't score runs, and is hitting a league-worst .211 over the past 30 days.
"I really don't know what's going on," Soto said. "We definitely have the talent."
They definitely do. On paper. But even though Wednesday looked like rock bottom, it can absolutely still get worse.
Now, no one is saying that last year's team was actually magic. But they did have a spark, and a communal mindset espoused in that famous team meeting - the one that said that no one believed in them, so they might as well go for broke. It's the one that encouraged them to play loose and play for each other. And it's the one that propelled them to the NLCS. Along the way, they got gritty performances, grinded out tough at-bats, and tried not to overthink and overcorrect.
This year's squad could use a little of that right now. Instead, they're a team with high expectations and World Series aspirations playing like one that should start setting up early-October tee times.
By every logical measure, the Brewers aren't an ideal team to be facing this weekend. They're 44-16 since May 25, which is a franchise best over a 60-game span . But in the land of magical thinking, maybe the Mets can go back to Milwaukee and remember who they were the last time they were there.
Last year's Mets would scoff at the notion of people writing them off, summon the power of a Rally Cauliflower (or something), and find a way to win anyway.