By Lee Jenkins

A two-time AL Cy Young Award winner, Santana led the league in strikeouts for three of the last four seasons. Heinz Kluetmeier/SI

Given what the Mets endured last fall, they may be a little prone to hyperbole these days. Santana views himself not as a symbol of hope and renewal but as a catalyst for a comeback. He insists that the Philadelphia Phillies are still the favorites to win the National League East this season, while acknowledging that the Mets are uniquely motivated. Riding in a golf cart through the Mets' complex, Santana studied his new surroundings. He stopped at a souvenir stand, already stocked with items featuring his number 57. "I'm not going to go out there and try to be a hero," says Santana, the AL's leader in strikeouts for three of the last four seasons. "I'm just going to be myself. And hopefully, with my help, we can make everyone forget what happened last year."

Santana does not know exactly what happened in September, nor does he need to. He was not around when the Mets made six errors against Philadelphia on Sept. 16, or blew a five-run lead against the Washington Nationals on Sept. 26, or gave up seven runs in the first inning against the Florida Marlins four days later. He was not in the clubhouse that final day, after the Mets' sixth loss in seven games, when manager Willie Randolph was teary-eyed and outfielder Moises Alou was enraged. "I hate baseball right now," Alou said as he cleaned out his locker after the season, a sentiment shared by most of Queens.

For the next four months the Mets tried to recapture their love of the game. Peterson read Eastern philosophy and drew sketches of his players. Third baseman David Wright worked out at Shea Stadium, using bad memories to push through drills. "We have a lot of those memories," Wright says. "They are training tools." General manager Omar Minaya read encouraging notes from friends and commiserated with other G.M.'s, reminding himself that the Mets were not alone in their agony. The San Diego Padres had been one strike away from making the playoffs, when Tony Gwynn Jr. -- of all people -- hit a game-tying triple off Trevor Hoffman to open the door to a key San Diego defeat. Minaya called Padres G.M. Kevin Towers to offer his condolences, but Minaya knew hard work was the only thing that would really help.

The last time the Mets swooned down the stretch, finishing 12-29 in 2004, they reacted swiftly and dramatically. They fired manager Art Howe and demoted G.M. Jim Duquette, hiring Randolph and Minaya and then signing pitcher Pedro Martinez and centerfielder Carlos Beltran. This year, they had to make a similarly drastic move to vanquish the gloom that had descended on the team.

When the Mets' front office convened on Oct. 1 to analyze the breakdown, it was at first unclear if Randolph would be back. But it soon became apparent that they did not need a new manager. Rather, they needed a new starting pitcher, someone who could take the ball with a four-game losing streak and make certain it did not reach five.

Minaya had already spent two years looking for such a stopper. Last off-season he tried to pry Roy Oswalt from the Houston Astros and Carlos Zambrano from the Chicago Cubs. He tried to sign then free agents Daisuke Matsuzaka and Barry Zito. But each time, the Mets either could not swing the deal or did not want to pay the necessary price. This winter only three bona fide aces appeared on the market: Baltimore Orioles lefthander Erik Bedard, Oakland A's righty Dan Haren and Santana.

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