David Wright re-became a New York Met here on Wednesday morning. He wrestled into a disobedient blue jersey, a new look for the franchise. He patiently curled the orange brim of a new cap and, two-handed, pulled it snug on his head.
His new contract is for $138 million over eight years. Their past, their present, is their future. Every penny of it, every day of it.
Wright was, as always, the picture of hope. He's young and eager, at 29. He brought his mom to the news conference. He introduced his girlfriend, Molly, with a gentle nod. He stood with one arm around the general manager and the other around the owner's son, brightly smiling through the last click and flash.
He spoke with clarity of the promise ahead, his hands gripping the lectern, his voice running thin at the appropriately emotional parts.