Shocker: Soto's Feeling The Pressure Of Choosing The Wrong Team

There’s a storm brewing in Queens — and its name is regret.

Juan Soto was supposed to be the answer. The Mets’ near billion-dollar swing. The superstar who would bring Citi Field back to life, stack MVPs, and carry the team on his broad shoulders all the way to October glory. But here we are, not even halfway through Year One of his 15-year megadeal, and it already looks like Steve Cohen’s grand experiment is turning into a very expensive case of buyer’s remorse.

Because what we’re watching unfold isn’t a coronation — it’s a cautionary tale.

Soto came to the Mets to be the man. But the problem is… he’s not. That title still belongs — definitively, unmistakably — to Aaron Judge who is the king of New York. And no amount of money, press conferences, or forced “fresh starts” in Queens can change that.

This weekend was the clearest example yet. While Judge was tearing the cover off the ball, Soto was barely a presence. He didn’t just get outplayed — he got owned. Judge looked like a superhero, a natural-born leader who carries his team with poise and power. Soto, on the other hand, looked like a guy who wandered into the wrong borough and immediately started wondering how fast he could get back to his Uber.

But the most damning moment didn’t even happen on the field. It came from behind the scenes, courtesy of Bob Klapisch of NJ Advance Media, who reported that Soto agreed to be miked up for ESPN in the second inning — and then backed out at the last minute. Why? Because he was “tired” of answering questions about Aaron Judge. He didn’t want to talk about why he chose the Mets. He didn’t want to talk at all.

And then he ghosted reporters after the game, pulling a classic “I’ll be right back” move to go see family, never to return. It was a Houdini act that fooled no one.

Mets execs are reportedly “concerned” about Soto’s energy. His mood. His commitment. And honestly, they should be. This is a guy who was marketed as a once-in-a-generation superstar, a five-tool phenom with the bat of Barry Bonds and the charisma of David Ortiz. But what they’ve gotten so far is a player who can’t run, can’t field, and looks like he’s one bad game away from asking his agent if there’s an escape clause in his contract.

And as if things weren’t embarrassing enough, the one time Soto looked genuinely happy this weekend according to Klapisch? It was during batting practice — chopping it up with Judge, Aaron Boone, and Jazz Chisholm like a kid who snuck into the cool lunch table and forgot where his locker is.

It’s clear now: Soto never stopped wanting to be a Yankee. That dream died when the Yankees passed on giving him a lifetime deal. So, he did the next best thing — he took the biggest check. But with that check came pressure, expectations, and, unfortunately for Soto, reality.

Because reality is, Aaron Judge is that guy. Always has been. Since the moment he broke into the league, he’s been doing things Soto can only dream about. He’s the face of the Yankees, the heartbeat of the clubhouse, and the guy every player — including Soto — still gravitates toward.

Judge didn’t just stay with the Yankees. He became the Yankees. He turned down overtures from the Giants and others not just to win — but to lead, to be the captain in a city that eats its stars alive unless they shine brighter than Times Square.

And shine he does.

Judge is what Soto wanted to be — a superhero, but in Queens, beloved by fans, respected by rivals, and absolutely terrifying at the plate. Judge hits for power, plays Gold Glove-caliber defense, and leads by example. And let’s not forget — he carried the Yankees when they were injured, underachieving, and battered, putting the entire city on his back.

Meanwhile, Soto is out here acting like a moody transfer student who can’t believe his new school doesn’t have better lunch options. He even managed to annoy Pete Alonso — the one guy who was supposed to be his partner in crime — by implying that pitchers go at him different now because, gasp, Judge isn’t behind him. Talk about bad optics. Especially when Alonso is currently hitting better than Soto. You don’t throw shade at the guy who’s raking. Not unless you’re producing like peak Miguel Cabrera. But Soto isn’t.

This whole saga has already veered into sitcom territory. Soto wanted to be King of New York. Instead, he’s Judge’s jester — stuck in a long-term relationship with a team he doesn’t seem excited about, in a city that already crowned someone else the face of baseball.

And Yankees fans? Oh, they’re loving every second. Not just because the Yankees dominated the series — but because we dodged a bullet. We watched the Mets drop a Brink’s truck on a guy who can’t even commit to answering a few mic’d-up questions, while our guy quietly continues to build a legacy worthy of Monument Park.

Let’s call it what it is: Juan Soto chased the money. Aaron Judge chose greatness.

And that, more than anything, is why one man wears the crown — and the other wears a very expensive reminder that he made the wrong choice.

Suck it Soto, you chose wrong.