JUAN SOTO SAYS IT'S "NOT EASY". NO ONE CARES.

You know what’s worse than overpaying for a car that breaks down the moment you drive it off the lot? Handing out a near billion contract to a guy who suddenly forgets how to play baseball the moment the ink dries.

Juan Soto is the latest poster child for why long-term mega contracts are often the dumbest financial moves in pro sports. One great season—or even a few—gets a guy generational wealth, and the team gets... a sulking outfielder who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but Queens.

Steve Cohen, baseball’s biggest spender, made the ultimate bet when he pulled Soto out of pinstripes and plopped him into Citi Field. And so far, it's gone about as well as trying to light a cigar in a hurricane. The Mets are stuck with a guy who isn’t hitting, never stole bases, can't play the field, and now apparently can’t crack a smile either.

In a recent interview with Ken Rosenthal, Soto poured his heart out, saying:

"It’s not easy at all... after you make a commitment for this long, it takes you time."

Cry me a river, Juan. You’re not a rookie switching from Triple-A to the show—you’re a superstar (allegedly) making nearly half a billion dollars. You don’t get “adjustment time.” You get expected results.

And now Soto sits in the outfield, looking like a man who just realized he moved into the wrong house and can’t get a refund. Tough. That’s the business. You took the deal, you cashed the check—now you earn it.

The Yankees, to their credit, saw this coming. Their front office deserves a standing ovation for dodging this trainwreck. Letting Soto walk may go down as one of the smartest decisions in their history. Meanwhile, Steve Cohen is lighting his money on fire and watching it burn from a luxury suite.

Soto’s been a disaster defensively. Advanced metrics? Don’t bother. He’s a black hole in right field. The Mets didn’t pay that much money for “a tough adjustment” or “finding comfort”—they paid for MVP-level production. Instead, they paid for a pout.

And let’s not pretend Soto is the victim here. His agent, the ever-savvy Scott Boras, worked his magic, hyping Soto into the stratosphere. And why wouldn’t he? Every extra zero on the contract means another boat for Boras. But now the party’s over, and it’s Soto who has to show up every day and prove he was worth it.

Spoiler alert: he’s not.

Cohen should be furious. If he had any sense, he’d call Soto into his office and say, “Look, we need to talk. You’re not living up to what we paid for. We can’t go 14 more years like this.” And he’d be right. There’s no room in a billion-dollar baseball plan for sluggish feet, weak at-bats, and “sad boy” energy.

Bottom line? This is a business. And in business, if you don't deliver, you're out. Juan Soto better wake up and play like someone worth the historic contract he signed—or Cohen should start asking for a serious renegotiation. Because right now, Soto looks less like a cornerstone of the Mets’ future and more like an anchor dragging them straight to the bottom of the NL East.

Get it together, Juan. Or get ready to be remembered not as the next great Met, but as the most expensive mistake in baseball history.