Wright Vs. Right

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David Wright apparently sustained a stress fracture to his lower back on April 19^th in a game against Houston.

This of course raises two questions. 1) Houston still has a major league franchise? And 2) Why did this information take 25 days to ascertain?

“They had wanted me to get an MRI for some time now, and I kind of – I won’t say put it off – but I felt like it was getting better,” Wright inexplicably said over the weekend.

Lower back stress fractures typically get worse with activity and go away with rest. It’s highly unlikely that Wright was in fact feeling better as he continued to play everyday and his declining numbers certainly justify the suspicion: he had just 11 hits in 62 at-bats (.177) since April 25.

Wright didn’t tell the team that he was dealing with this pain and therefore the Mets’ medical staff –one of the league’s worst when it actually knows of an injury – could not do anything to treat it.

Was Wright supposed to know the proper treatment for a fracture? Did he even know he had a fracture? Highly doubtful. And why would he know if he never got it checked out?

Never mind Wright’s stupidity for refusing a simple MRI (a procedure that costs a modern day athlete a mere hour of their day), more importantly if the team was pushing for him to have an MRI ‘for some time now’ then they knew something was potentially wrong. So why aren’t the Mets ordering Dinky - the soon-to-be lone face of the franchise left on the team – to have an MRI? Is Mr. Met really going to say no? If he did say no, it would be the first time he said no to anything they requested.

It’s tough to know Wright’s motives for keeping quiet. Could he possibly be so insecure that he thinks his job was in jeopardy if he were to miss a few games or land on the DL? The face of the franchise needs to know that he can be honest about injuries without suffering the fate of Wally Pipp.

More likely of an explanation is the idea that David Wright is another in a long line of modern day athletes who confuses toughness with leadership. The type of star that thinks ‘playing every day’ and ‘gritting it out’ alone will make them enough of a leader. Being in the lineup everyday is certainly a positive and a good example for teammates - but it is only a small piece of the ‘leader’ puzzle. One of the largest pieces of that puzzle, especially in New York, is – to put it bluntly - having a set of stones.

Some might call the types of players who lack these stones ‘a different type of leader’ or a ‘lead-by-example’ type leader, but let’s call a spade a spade: these players make the choice not to step up into this role. Met fans saw it for years from Mike Piazza. He was tough as nails, played his hardest and put up phenomenal numbers. But when push came to shove, he was an absentee presence in the clubhouse.

Those that have followed Wright’s career know how little the third-baseman likes to say anything controversial. Serving under his fourth manager in Queens, nary a word has been said by David about any of the four gentlemen he has played for – either complimentary or derogatorily. He doesn’t write provocative tweets. He doesn’t sit out games when his spot in the batting order changes. He doesn’t critique management (and honestly, what player in the majors has had more right/opportunity to do so other than Wright, the biggest star with the most power on the bumbling Mets of the Wilponzi era?) In short, he doesn’t do anything that could even potentially be perceived as negative.

Sure, playing every day and not stirring the pot shows good character and can be a breath of fresh air. But what athletes like Wright often do is mistake character and attendance for leadership while failing to use their crystal clean charisma for good. No one is suggesting you’re not a good guy Davey, but it’s your eighth year in the league and you haven’t even accidentally flexed your locker room muscle for the good of the franchise. Every Met fan out there would accept you not playing all 162 games and resting once in a while in exchange for 145 games played and you possessing the gumption to occasionally grab some teammates by the throat and demand they play the right way.

And while it’s unfair to blame Wright for any of the epic disasters that marred the Omar Years, maybe if he spoke up a little more and wielded some of the clout that he has spent countless hours earning through public appearances and overall ‘good-guy-ness’ - the old regime would have been ushered out of town a little sooner and as a result, placed the Mets a few seasons ahead in the rebuilding process they find themselves immersed in today.

But Wright seems to be okay with his place on the Superstar Path of Least Resistance. The type of cookie-cutter star ballplayer model that was perfected by Alex Rodriguez, controlling every element of their image, never giving their naysayers a free reason to question their drive or knock them. The resulting figure makes for a player who certainly does the right thing and respects the game, but one who fans have a very hard time fully embracing or connecting with, leaving them with positive but hollow feeling towards their superstar.

Perhaps this is undeserved pressure and responsibility to place on Wright and other athletes. Maybe fans should just be thankful they’re not shooting themselves in the thigh in a nightclub with an unregistered gun or sexting dick-pics to unsuspecting cheerleaders. To be fair, David Wright is far from the biggest problem in sports today.

But as we saw with A-Rod, who got busted for steroids, eventually had his wife leave him after cheating on her with Madonna and is now banging every washed up blonde in Hollywood, these players are still human. Hopefully for Wright’s sake, not reporting his back injury earlier is the worst thing he does in his career. Met fans can only hope that, like A-Rod, Dinky can help in some way to deliver a championship. 

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