It was supposed to be a coronation, not a cautionary tale.

Back in December, as Juan Soto inked his $765 million mega-deal with the Mets, the baseball world buzzed with awe. “Generational,” they said. “The centurion,” some called him, projecting billions in long-term value for whichever team had the guts to go all in. The Mets did. But just five weeks into the season, the script is flipping—and fast.

On a recent broadcast of WFAN with Keith McPherson, one insider named Toney didn’t mince words: “That gluttony of that contract is going to eat him up.” It was more than a hot take; it felt like a gut punch to a player still finding his footing in Queens. The numbers don’t help. Soto’s OPS has dipped to a pedestrian .772, and his once-feared barrel rate has plummeted. He’s not mashing fastballs. He’s not an intimidating pitcher. And worst of all? He’s not leading.

That’s where the Judge-Alonso comparison surfaces and cuts deep.

“You have Judge, who is a leader, a captain, an icon,” Toney continued. “He can take the heat. So can Alonso.” The implication is clear: Juan Soto, for all his prodigious talent, isn’t that guy—at least not yet. And in a city like New York, “not yet” quickly becomes “not good enough.”

This isn’t about smiling in the dugout or having swagger. It’s about embodying the city’s grind, owning the weight of expectations, and elevating those around you. “If you’re not going to be humble, you will be humbled.” He loves himself too much, hinting that Soto’s perceived self-focus may be part of the problem.

It’s not that Pete Alonso is a perfect player. But he’s shown an ability to wear the pressure like a badge. He doesn’t flinch in the spotlight. Aaron Judge? He practically lives in it. Juan Soto, on the other hand, has made comments about missing lineup protection—perhaps an unintentional slight toward his current teammates.

That won’t fly here.

Juan Soto to simplify the swing and elevate the impact

Let’s be real, Juan Soto doesn’t need to reinvent himself. His swing is already one of the most feared in baseball. But lately, it’s felt like he’s trying to do too much, chasing power. Pressing in big moments. Overthinking instead of reacting. And when a hitter like Soto, known for his elite discipline and strike-zone command, starts expanding his zone or lunging at pitches, it’s a red flag—not for talent, but for rhythm. The solution? Strip it down. Return to the approach that made him special: controlled aggression, patience, and forcing pitchers to come to him.

Think about Soto at his peak, working counts like a seasoned vet, spitting on pitches just outside the zone, and drilling mistakes into the second deck. That version wasn’t just dangerous; he was surgical. Right now, he seems caught between trying to justify the $765 million and just being himself. But New York doesn’t need him to hit five homers a week. It needs quality at-bats, clutch contact, and a presence that stretches every inning. Get back to that, and the power numbers will follow naturally—because Soto’s bat speed and balance don’t need help. His mindset might.

And here’s the kicker: a simplified swing does more than boost stats; it quiets the noise. If Juan Soto gets back to being the toughest out in the league, suddenly the critics fade. Suddenly, Citi Field leans in instead of sighing. Because when the game speeds up, the best hitters slow it down. Soto’s already done it before in D.C. and San Diego. Now he just needs to do it in the biggest baseball city on Earth.

And it starts with one thing: trust your swing, not the headlines.