Francisco Lindor is the soul of Puerto Rican baseball. It is a fact that doesn’t require a spreadsheet or a scouting report to verify. When he puts on that jersey, he isn’t just a $341 million shortstop for the New York Mets; he is the “Team Captain” in every sense of the word, a guy who hit .450 in the last World Baseball Classic and carries the weight of an entire island on his shoulders.
But as of this week, that soul has been effectively benched by a group of guys in suits clutching clipboards and risk-assessment algorithms.
The news that Lindor will miss the 2026 World Baseball Classic due to “insurance constraints” following a minor elbow debridement is a gut punch.
A Roster Being Eaten Alive by Red Tape
This isn’t just about Lindor, though his absence is the loudest. The Puerto Rican federation is reportedly on the verge of pulling out of the tournament entirely, and frankly, who is to blame them? José Quiles, the federation president, is rightfully fuming because his roster is being picked apart by the fine print. Carlos Correa is out. José Berríos is out. Even guys like Jovani Morán and Yacksel Ríos have been flagged.
MLB loves to market the WBC as this grand, global celebration of the game, but then they let the “business side” strip-mine the rosters of the most passionate nations.
You can’t tell a country like Puerto Rico to “compete” when you’ve effectively handcuffed their best players. It’s insulting to the fans in San Juan who were ready to pack Hiram Bithorn Stadium to see their idols. Instead of a dream team, they’re getting a lesson in premium underwriting.
The Irony of the Spring Training “Clean Bill”
The most infuriating part of the MLBPA statement is the line about Lindor being “fully available” for Mets spring training. Think about that logic for a second. He is healthy enough to dive into the dirt in Port St. Lucie and play meaningless Grapefruit League games, but the second he wants to play a high-leverage game for his country, the insurance policy turns into a pumpkin. It makes the tournament feel like a secondary hobby rather than the premier international event it claims to be.
The Mets are sending Nolan McLean, Clay Holmes and Mark Vientos to the tournament.
A Tournament Losing Its Spark
Without Lindor and Correa, the left side of that Puerto Rican infield loses its electricity. We are left with a tournament that feels increasingly like a sanitized exhibition rather than a blood-and-guts battle for national pride.
The fans are the biggest losers, and right now, the insurance adjusters are pitching a shutout. Puerto Rico will still show up with heart, but the tournament has been robbed of its brightest stars before the first pitch is even thrown.