Matt Harvey's Health Is More Important Than the Mets

Matt Harvey's teammates may see him as the missing anchor in their postseason rotation, or a leader out of action come October, but they'll never see him as a coward. At least not for doing something the rest of them would do: put their health before team goals. Harvey's choice to follow his surgeon's advice, which may end his season and hamstring the Mets 2015 playoffs, isn't a departure from the true competitor's path; it's a sharp return to it.

During my playing days, a reporter once gave me this hypothetical choice: Would I rather have a three-year-long career in the big leagues, breaking records and leaving my mark on the game, only for my arm to explode and never play again at the end of it? Or would I take an average career lasting ten healthy but yawningly mediocre years, which would undoubtedly disappear into the annals of history?

I opted for ten mediocre years. To me, it was a no-brainer. The reporter, meanwhile, shook his head in disgust and told me I was playing for the wrong reasons.

To verify I'd not missed some transcendent baseball truth about athletic glory, I put that same question to my teammates: Short and exceptional? Or long, healthy, and utterly forgettable?

They chose healthy and forgettable. Every. Single. Time.

Ten years in the big leagues gets you a full pension and a life-changing contract, maybe two. It puts you on ten teams, with ten chances for post-season bonuses. It's ten years of big league jets rides to five-star hotels in major cities with top-tier groupies. Ten years of living the dream you hatched when you were a kid. Best of all, when you retire—in your thirties—you're set for life and you can still shampoo your head with your throwing arm!

Players get it. Harvey's teammates get it. They know the value of health, and how easily a career can be snatched away for taking stupid risks with it. This is why there's one piece of advice all players can agree on: don't get hurt.

Bowing out after 180 innings pitched will not change Harvey's reputation among his teammates from the one he already has: a fierce competitor, a perfectionist, a guy you don't fuck with while sleeping. That he had to make this decision as the Mets reach for October is unfortunate, but it doesn't make his logic any less sound, or relatable. Besides, without his stellar innings this season, the Mets wouldn't be having this heated conversation about his postseason absence.

While some teammates may dislike the amount of media attention Harvey's inning cap drama has garnered—and specifically how it pulls attention away from the team's success to focus on the contributions of one man—this is hardly Harvey's fault. It's not like he wants to be embroiled in this media shit storm, surrounded by reporters, fans, and front office staffers shaking their heads, thinking he's playing for the wrong reasons.

Make no mistake: Harvey is playing for the right ones. If he, his agent, and his surgeon decide it's best for him to shut it down, he's doing that for the right reasons, too. It doesn't mean it's going to be easy; Harvey's competitive drive and Mets front office bungling both make sure of that.

Harvey wants to compete. Any player who has worked as hard as Harvey did—through rehab and ridicule, just to have a chance at a chance—obviously has no qualms about pushing himself over the edge. But discretion is the better part of valor, which, unfortunately, will be of zero consolation to Harvey as he burns to take the ball every single inning he misses in the postseason.

That inner fire consuming Harvey will be nothing compared to the flogging he'll take for staying out of the game. Should the Mets see their postseason run end in a situation where Harvey's arm could have proved the difference maker, he may need to go into hiding.

It didn't have to be like this. The Mets could have announced an innings limit at the start of the year. Fan-fueled vitriol could have splattered on the system instead of on Harvey. Harvey's teammates might want to take note how this is being handled, lest they decide to get hurt or otherwise prioritize their health at an inconvenient time.

Regardless of how this plays out, my advice to Harvey is simple: even a long career is a finite experience, so do what's best for you health, and give fuck-all about what it does to your reputation.

For every Derek Jeter this game creates, there are dozens of players who through no fault of their own are disliked and reviled simply because they failed to live up to unrealistic expectations they had no part in creating. Fans are selfish, the media is fickle, and reputations come and go. The only thing Matt Harvey needs to worry about is what he has been focused on all season: doing the best job he can as long as he's healthy enough to do it. So far, that's been anything but mediocre and forgettable.