PORT ST. LUCIE — Jose Reyes stood in front of his locker early yesterday morning and delivered a performance that should encourage the Mets as much as anything he has done with his legs so far this spring.
The previous evening a story had broken that the FBI was planning subpoenas for athletes who had ties to a Canadian doctor accused of selling unapproved drugs. Reyes was among those stuck in that web, since he had consulted Dr. Anthony Galea last September for his persistent hamstring troubles.
In this era there are few places an athlete wants to be less than having his name tied — even third-hand — to illegal performance enhancers. The innocent look guilty by mere association.
Reyes said he talked to FBI agents for about 45 minutes Thursday while accompanied by one of his agents. He said he told the FBI what he told about a dozen reporters circled around his locker yesterday morning: That he had gone to Toronto and received platelet-rich plasma therapy, a legal process thought to speed up healing, for which Galea had gained renown in athletic circles. Reyes said he had undergone the process three times in a five-day period. He said he felt better initially, but that the therapy did not ultimately work well enough to get him back on the field and he was forced to turn to surgery.
But, as long as he was telling the truth, it was not what Reyes said that should so encourage Mets fans. It was how he said it. We too often take for granted that someone such as Reyes is handling delicate questions and answers in his second language. How comfortable would you feel dealing with drug questions in Spanish in Santo Domingo?
Reyes was poised. There was no fidgeting, no sweating, no evasion. If you saw only film of his facial expressions and body language, you could have assumed he was talking about whom he might play catch with that day.
It was a mature performance, which is not exactly a term associated regularly with Reyes over the years. But what if this were an indication of Reyes, at age 26, evolving toward a mental state to match his fast-twitch athleticism?
Many factors, for example, went into Alex Rodriguez presenting a more grown-up persona last season. But, to me, the biggest transformative factor revolved around the two months Rodriguez spent rehabbing after undergoing March hip surgery. Mostly alone in Vail, Colo., Rodriguez had to face life without baseball — maybe permanently — and that reinforced his ardor for the game. So when he returned, he embraced all of the fraternity and competition and challenge as if renewing a love affair. He worked more diligently — more maturely — at not letting outside influences get between him and his passion.
Reyes had played the fourth-most games in the majors from 2005-08, and then missed the final four-plus months of the 2009 season with that unforgiving hamstring injury. The frustrating quest to fix the inured area made Reyes appreciate playing more than ever.
“I really did learn how much I enjoy the game,” he said. “I love to be on the field. It is what makes me happiest. I don’t want to be at home watching the games ever again.”
The Mets need Reyes to truly be marrying his kid’s joy for the game with a more adult nature. For he is being asked not just to come back from a serious injury, but in Jerry Manuel’s plans to assume the No. 3 lineup spot in Carlos Beltran’s absence. His burden cannot be minimized, even by Reyes, who acknowledged, “I know, I hear it, people say the way I go, so goes the team.”
In the past, he might go first to third in a breathtaking way. He also might go pout or make you wonder about his baseball IQ.
But the Reyes who stood before the media yesterday morning adeptly — maturely — handled a difficult situation like the Mets dream he will handle everything from a Josh Johnson fastball to the responsibility of being a leading man, even if he does bat third in the order.