The stress of this terrible Mets season showed itself Friday night in another chest cold for Terry Collins and another trade, this one sending outfielder Curtis Granderson, a Collins favorite, to the Dodgers.
“That’s why I’m sick,’’ Collins told The Post at Citi Field on a long, rainy night the Mets were beaten by the Marlins, 3-1. “My immune system is down because I give a s–t.’’
With 42 games remaining and the Mets at 53-67, Collins still cares like he did on Opening Day. He cares about his players.
“It’s tough,’’ he said, “All the guys coming and going.’’
Here is what Collins is going to do the rest of the way: He’s going to manage to win with a team that is built to lose.
With the younger Mets he is going to try to develop “winning’’ players. When the season is over, he is going to meet with Sandy Alderson and ownership.
“I’ll worry about it then,’’ Collins said of his future. “No matter where I am Oct. 2, my head is going to be held up high. I’ve given my heart and soul, and you can’t do any more than that.’’
No, you can’t.
No one knows the reality of the situation better than Collins. After seven years as Mets manager, he likely will not be back for an eighth season. He wants to return, make no mistake, but management will make that decision, and there are rumblings that Oakland third-base case Chip Hale, a one-time Mets coach, or the Dodgers’ Bob Geren could be the next Mets manager.
There could be a whole new look in the Mets dugout next season.
You can be sure others will be given a pass for this Mets mess because of the injuries, but no matter what happens, Collins will live with the consequences.
Like he said, his head will be held high.
“These seasons are all the same to me,’’ Collins explained. “I’m not going to change anything. I’m not worrying about Oct. 2 or whatever.’’
The Collins whom Mets fans have seen for 1,092 games, plus the World Series run in 2015, is the same Collins you are going to see the rest of the way.
“Absolutely,’’ Collins said.
“My job has always been to try and win the [bleeping] game,’’ Collins said. “You do what you have to do to win a baseball game. When that’s no longer important, when that’s out, then I am going to do something else.
“I’m not somebody who is going to sit on the side and say, ‘Woe is us, we’ve traded all these guys, we’ve got all these injuries, oh well, let’s just write this off.’ Bulls–t. I don’t want [the players] to do that, so why would I do that?”
On his way out the clubhouse door, Granderson, who was traded along with cash for a player to be named later or cash considerations, had a big hug for Yoenis Cespedes and words of advice and kind words about Collins, saying: “The time with Terry has been great, getting a chance to learn about him, the similarities that he had with [Granderson’s former Tigers manager] Jim Leyland. It was really cool to see him let the coaches do what they were supposed to do, let the players go out there and ‘I only steer the ship when I need to’ kind of mirror Jim Leyland.’’
“Part of my job is to give our fan base something to cheer about,’’ Collins said. “If you think I’m just going to sit in the corner of the dugout and watch these games go on, you better get somebody else.’’
That is the pride Collins, 68, has always taken with him to the job, whether he was working in Houston, Anaheim, the Mets or in the minors. That’s who he is.
“I do believe there is a correlation between developing and developing winners,’’ Collins said. “I just don’t think you throw them out there, bulls–t, teach them how to win. You bet your ass.’’
Yes, come Oct. 2, no matter what happens, Terry Collins is going to be just fine.