We called, and he missed it. Obviously it ends up being a big play.
In the unforgiving arithmetic of a struggling season, small decisions carry outsized weight. Mets manager Carlos Mendoza twice declined to challenge umpire calls his own bench believed were wrong — once on a bizarre glove-flip play involving Juan Soto, and once on a tag play that allowed a decisive run in a one-run loss. For a team that has fallen to 12-22 after a twelve-game losing streak, the margin between competing and collapsing may be exactly as thin as the gap between reaching for the challenge flag and letting the moment pass.
- A ball trapped in a glove's webbing, flipped whole to a covering pitcher, produced one of the season's strangest out calls — and the Mets let it stand without a challenge.
- The day before, a reviewable tag play at third base allowed a run to score in a 4-3 loss, and Mendoza again did not throw the red flag, later blaming his replay analyst for missing it.
- The back-to-back failures have sharpened scrutiny on Mendoza's in-game decision-making at the worst possible moment for a franchise already reeling from a twelve-game losing streak.
- Sunday's 5-1 win softened the immediate damage, but a 12-22 record leaves the Mets with almost no room for the kind of institutional slippage that missed challenges represent.
- The replay room, the manager, and the team's broader culture of in-game aggression are all now under the same uncomfortable spotlight.
Sunday at the ballpark produced one of baseball's stranger moments. Angels first baseman Nolan Schanuel caught Juan Soto's grounder cleanly enough, but the ball lodged in his glove's webbing and wouldn't come free. Rather than lose the play entirely, Schanuel flipped his entire glove — ball still trapped inside — to pitcher Jack Kochanowicz covering first. The umpire called Soto out. The Mets bench erupted, convinced Kochanowicz had bobbled the glove before securing it. Manager Carlos Mendoza did not challenge the call.
The Mets won anyway, 5-1, and the moment might have dissolved into a footnote — except it was the second straight day Mendoza had declined to challenge a call his team believed was wrong. On Saturday, a tag play at third base allowed a run to score in what became a 4-3 loss. Replay appeared to show Bo Bichette's tag beat Jorge Soler to the bag. Mendoza never threw the red flag. Asked why, he was candid: his replay room had missed it. Analyst Harrison Friedland, whom Mendoza praised as among the best in the business, simply hadn't caught what the footage showed. "We called, and he missed it," Mendoza said. "Obviously it ends up being a big play when you lose by one run."
The pattern lands hard on a team already struggling to stay afloat. The Mets have endured a twelve-game losing streak this season and sit at 12-22, far from the playoff contender many anticipated. In a year this desperate, the difference between challenging a call and watching it stand can be the difference between a momentum shift and another quiet surrender. Baseball is a game of margins, and right now the Mets are operating on the thinnest ones — which makes every unchallenged call feel less like a footnote and more like a symptom.
Sunday afternoon at the ballpark brought one of baseball's strangest moments—the kind of play that leaves everyone in the stadium unsure what they just watched. Juan Soto grounded a ball to first base, and Angels fielder Nolan Schanuel caught it cleanly enough, except the ball lodged itself in the webbing of his glove and wouldn't come free. With Soto sprinting down the line and a potential double play slipping away, Schanuel made a split-second decision: he flipped his entire glove, ball still trapped inside, to pitcher Jack Kochanowicz covering first base. The umpire called Soto out. It was close. It was messy. It was the kind of play made for replay review.
But Mets manager Carlos Mendoza didn't challenge it. His bench was screaming from the dugout that Kochanowicz had bobbled the glove as Soto crossed the bag—that the pitcher never fully secured it. The call stood. The moment passed. And by evening, it seemed like a minor footnote to a Mets victory, a 5-1 win that improved their record to 12-22.
Except it wasn't minor at all, because it was the second consecutive day Mendoza had chosen not to challenge a call that his team believed was wrong. The day before, on Saturday, the Angels had beaten the Mets 4-3 in a game that hinged on a tag play at third base. With two outs in the bottom of the first inning, Mets right fielder Austin Slater threw a strike to third baseman Bo Bichette, who tagged out Jorge Soler. The replay showed Bichette's tag came before Soler touched the base—before the run scored. It was the kind of call that changes a game's trajectory. Mendoza never challenged it.
When reporters asked him afterward why he hadn't thrown the red flag, Mendoza's answer was direct but deflating. His replay room had missed it. Specifically, replay analyst Harrison Friedland—someone Mendoza described as one of the best in the business—had not caught what the replay clearly showed. "We called, and he missed it," Mendoza said. "Obviously it ends up being a big play when you lose by one run." He added that the team had other chances to win and hadn't capitalized on them, a fair point but one that didn't erase the fact that a reviewable play had slipped through their fingers.
The pattern matters because the Mets are drowning. They've lost twelve straight games at one point this season. They're fighting just to reach .500. They're a team that many expected to compete for a playoff spot, and instead they're scrapping for relevance in May. In a season this tight, in a team this desperate, the difference between challenging a call and letting it stand can be the difference between momentum and collapse.
Mendoza's reluctance to challenge—whether because his replay room missed something or because he simply didn't see it himself—speaks to a deeper problem. Baseball is a game of margins. The Mets are operating on the thinnest of margins right now. They need things to break their way. They need their manager to be aggressive when the rules give him the chance to be. They need their replay room to be sharp. And they need to stop leaving runs on the field, whether those runs are scored on the diamond or handed away by a manager who doesn't reach for the challenge button when he should.
Citas Notables
We called, and he missed it. Obviously it ends up being a big play when you lose by one run.— Carlos Mendoza, Mets manager, on his replay room missing a reviewable call
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why didn't Mendoza challenge the Soto play on Sunday if his bench was screaming that it was wrong?
That's the question everyone's asking. He had the information right there—his own dugout saw what looked like a bobble. Maybe he was gun-shy after Saturday, or maybe he just didn't trust what he was seeing in real time. Either way, it's a missed opportunity.
But they won that game 5-1. Does it really matter if one call went against them?
It matters because of the pattern. Saturday's loss was decided by one run, and a call he didn't challenge was the difference. Then Sunday, he does it again. When you're 12-22 and clawing for your life, you can't afford to leave those decisions on the table.
What's the replay room's role in all this? Mendoza said they missed it.
That's the real problem. The manager is supposed to have eyes in the sky—people whose only job is to spot these things and tell him to challenge. If Harrison Friedland, who Mendoza says is one of the best, missed a call that was clearly reviewable, then something's broken in how the information is getting to the field.
Is this about Mendoza's judgment, or is it about the system failing him?
Probably both. A good manager challenges anyway, even if his room isn't sure. He trusts his gut. Mendoza seems to be deferring too much to what the replay room tells him, and when they miss, he's left standing there with his hands empty.
What does this say about a team that's 12-22?
It says they're not just losing games—they're losing the small battles too. The margins are razor-thin when you're that far under .500. Every call matters. Every decision matters. And right now, the Mets are making the wrong ones.