MLB

Mets manager wants Tejada to avoid short cuts

PORT ST. LUCIE — There will be no fire, no brimstone, no venom and no vinegar this morning, just before 8:00 in the morning, when Ruben Tejada walks into the Mets’ clubhouse at Digital Domain Park. There will be no spite and no spittle inside the office of Terry Collins when the manager of the Mets summons his shortstop.

“He’s a good kid,” Collins said. “He’s as nice as anyone on the club.”

As a parent might, Collins wants Tejada to know he’s not furious at him, he isn’t angry that he didn’t settle his visa issues early enough to be here sooner. No, he’s disappointed. He expected more from Tejada, given what he saw of him last year, so there is a measure of paternal dissatisfaction.

If he gets those points across, there will be no need for yelling.

“I want to make sure that he understand priorities,” Collins said.

In a very real way, Collins is like that other sporting skipper in town with the initials T.C. In Tom Coughlin’s early days with the Giants, much was made of “Coughlin Time,” which meant if you were on time you were really five minutes late.

“Collins Time” is less formal and it doesn’t really have a name. Players just understand that whatever the official reporting date is, you can alter that as early as you like. And every other important Met did that. David Wright was here a week early. So were Daniel Murphy and Lucas Duda. Ike Davis is here early. Jason Bay, who must secure his own set of working papers to move from Canada, is here.

“I know there were a lot of issues, that meetings he was supposed to have at the [Panama] embassy were cancelled, I get that,” Collins said.

But he also said this:

“Jose left in December.”

That is more than just a reminder to Mets fans that there will be a hole in the Mets’ clubhouse to match the spot in their hearts devoted to Jose Reyes the past eight years. It is a telling and unspoken message from manager to shortstop: you know how important you’re going to be to us this year. You know we’re expecting you to contribute this year in ways you’ve never been asked to contribute before.

You’ve known all of that since December.

Why weren’t you here in January?

Still, Collins will keep his anger in check, will make sure he talks to Tejada before any of us with notebooks and tape recorders can, because of all the variables facing the Mets this year, this is one absolute: Tejada cannot be overmatched. He cannot look out of sync with his double-play partner, Murphy, still a neophyte at second base. He cannot suffer from shaky instincts, as he did at times last year, or start muscling up at the plate when he gives a ball a ride to the warning track early in games.

If he does, the Mets won’t just suffer for it. It also will be a constant reminder of who’s not here.

“This isn’t like when he would fill in and he knew that Jose would be back in five days, or back in two days, or taking a day off,” Collins said. “I need to know that he’s strong enough to handle the 180-day grind that’s ahead of him.”

You’ll notice Collins isn’t curious if Tejada can provide the 39 steals, 16 triples and 181 hits in 126 games Reyes provided in his career season last year. He isn’t expecting Mets fans to figure out a new singsong chant replace “Jose … Jose-Jose-Jose.” He is a man grounded in reality.

But he isn’t running a fantasy camp, either. He has expectations for Tejada, who has a terrific glove, a splendid arm, a good enough eye and enough life in his 22-year-old legs that he should be spending the spring persuading Collins that he could lead off. And Collins wants to be persuaded.

That has to happen in person. This morning, just past 8:00, that starts. First with a lecture and then, surely, with a handshake. And a new day officially will dawn.