Mets’ $340 Million Meltdown Hands Reds Playoff Spot—Only for LA to Exterminate the ‘Cockroaches
For much of the 2024 Major League Baseball season, the New York Mets carried the heavy burden of expectation. With a payroll north of $340 million—the highest in the sport—they were supposed to be the powerhouse of the National League, a team built to contend for October glory. Instead, their season unraveled into one of the most spectacular meltdowns in recent memory, ultimately handing an unexpected postseason berth to the Cincinnati Reds. But just as the Reds embraced their underdog identity, clinging to life like self-described “cockroaches,” their October dream was brutally crushed by the Los Angeles Dodgers.
The Mets’ collapse was as shocking as it was expensive. Armed with superstar names and bloated contracts, they carried the aura of a juggernaut in spring training. Yet, injuries, inconsistency, and a failure to live up to their own hype plagued them at every turn. The final weeks of the season were a nightmare: late-game implosions, runners left stranded, and a bullpen that buckled under pressure. By the time the dust settled, New York had fumbled away a chance at the postseason, leaving fans stunned and ownership facing hard questions about the future.
That stunning collapse opened the door for the Reds, a team that had been counted out by many early in the year. Unlike the Mets’ star-studded roster, Cincinnati thrived on grit, youth, and a relentless style of play that earned them the unflattering—but oddly fitting—nickname of “cockroaches.” No matter the deficit, no matter the odds, the Reds found ways to survive. Their scrappy energy electrified fans in Ohio, as they squeaked into the postseason for the first time in over a decade.
The city of Cincinnati celebrated like it was 1990 all over again. Fans packed Great American Ball Park, thrilled to see playoff baseball return. The Reds had pulled off the impossible, defying skeptics and capitalizing on the Mets’ implosion. But while the celebration was deserved, reality quickly reminded them of the brutal step up in class October baseball demands.
Enter the Los Angeles Dodgers. For a franchise accustomed to October lights, this was business as usual. Armed with one of the deepest lineups in baseball, featuring MVP-caliber bats and a pitching staff loaded with power arms, the Dodgers approached the series with a mix of confidence and ruthlessness. Cincinnati’s magic ran out almost instantly.
Game after game, the Dodgers’ dominance was on full display. Their bats punished Reds pitching, racking up runs with ease. Their arms suffocated Cincinnati’s lineup, turning every at-bat into a grind. For all the grit and resilience that defined the Reds’ improbable run, they were simply no match for LA’s machine. By the end of the series, the sweep was complete.
The Reds’ dream was over almost as quickly as it began. Their scrappy, never-die identity had taken them further than anyone expected, but against the Dodgers’ might, they were swatted aside—exterminated, as one LA player brutally put it, “like cockroaches.” For Cincinnati, it was heartbreak, but also a reminder that they had built a foundation worth believing in. For the Mets, it was a different story altogether.
The stark contrast between the two franchises could not be more glaring. Cincinnati, operating with one of the league’s lowest payrolls, clawed their way into the postseason through heart and hustle. The Mets, meanwhile, wasted a historic financial investment and ended up on the outside looking in. One team had hope for the future; the other faced questions of accountability, leadership, and whether throwing money at problems can ever substitute for true chemistry and consistency.
As the dust settles, two truths remain. The Dodgers are a juggernaut, ready to continue their march toward a championship. The Reds, though humbled, showed the league that they’re no longer a doormat—they’re on the rise, even if their storybook run was cut short. And the Mets? Their $340 million meltdown will be remembered as one of the most embarrassing collapses in baseball history, the ultimate reminder that money can’t buy October glory.
