The New York Mets won’t be naming a captain anytime soon—and if Steve Cohen has his way, they won’t be naming one at all.
At the club’s spring complex in Port St. Lucie, Cohen declared that he will not allow an official “C” on anyone’s jersey while he owns the franchise. “As long as I’m owning the team, there will never be a team captain,” Cohen said to reporters, including MLB.com’s Anthony DiComo. Cohen presented the move as a philosophical choice rather than a reactionary one. In his view, the clubhouse should define its own hierarchy organically, year by year, rather than through a front-office designation.
That stance lands differently in Queens, where captaincy has historically meant something.
Breaking From Mets Tradition
The Mets have named only four captains in franchise history: Keith Hernandez, Gary Carter, John Franco, and David Wright. Each represented not just on-field excellence but cultural identity. Wright, in particular, bridged eras—from the late Shea Stadium years to Citi Field—embodying stability amid turbulent seasons.
With that lineage in mind, many assumed shortstop Francisco Lindor would eventually receive the honor. He is the longest-tenured everyday player, the face of Cohen’s first blockbuster trade, and the recipient of a 10-year extension that signaled ownership’s long-term vision. Lindor nearly won the NL MVP in 2024, has collected multiple Silver Slugger awards, and has become the de facto spokesman inside the room.
Even manager Carlos Mendoza has acknowledged that Lindor “does a lot of the things that a captain would do,” and former captain John Franco publicly endorsed the idea last spring.
Cohen, however, isn’t interested in symbolism.
Leadership Without a Label
From a roster-construction standpoint, Cohen’s decision aligns with how this front office operates. President of baseball operations David Stearns has emphasized flexibility and adaptability, reshaping the roster aggressively after the Mets’ 83-79 disappointment in 2025. This winter brought headline moves, from adding star talent to reinforcing the bullpen, all in an effort to return to October.
Cohen has also been unusually candid about his frustration. He said he feels “annoyed” that the team hasn’t won a championship during his tenure and openly stated that he can spend at the same level as the powerhouse Los Angeles Dodgers. In that context, eliminating the captaincy may be less about diminishing leadership and more about avoiding static hierarchies on a roster that is constantly evolving.
Baseball, unlike the NFL or NBA, rarely leans on captains as structural necessities. Many successful teams operate without one, relying instead on veteran cores, positional leaders, and clubhouse accountability. Cohen appears to believe that formal titles can sometimes box in a dynamic room—especially in an era of short-term contracts and annual roster churn.
Still, perception matters. In a market starved for a World Series title since 1986, fans often gravitate toward identifiable figureheads. A captain can serve as a bridge between ownership and clubhouse, between expectation and execution.
Cohen is betting that results will matter more than ceremony.
If the Mets win, the absence of a captain will be framed as a modern form of pragmatism. If they fall short again, critics may wonder whether removing symbolic leadership also removed something intangible.
For now, one thing is clear: Steve Cohen expects players to earn leadership in Queens every day—but he will never attach it to a stitched letter.
Mets Owner Draws Hard Line: No Captain Under His Watch