Much of the resentment and anger that fans and even writers tend to feel toward inept or washed-up ballplayers could be cured by a bit of empathy. No matter how much money they make, athletes are just like other people, and would prefer to do well rather than badly. Barring the rare case of plain jaking, uninspired play is the result of poor or diminished skill, not the opposite. Usually, if a hitter looks lethargic and as if he doesn’t care, it’s because he’s not any good. Not being any good, though, is hardly ever a function of not caring.

So, have some sympathy for Mets first baseman Carlos Delgado. He once was a great player, and now he isn’t. Every year for a full decade, the man hit at least 30 home runs, often more, and sometimes quite a lot more; last year he hit 24, and this year he’s on pace for eight. When he came to the Mets three years ago, he looked to have a decent chance at the Hall of Fame. Now, he looks to have only sketchy chances of holding a job next year. He’s been dropped a spot in the order, and radio host Chris Russo, in a characteristically thoughtful riff, even suggested on the air that the Mets should consider killing him. (“They could kill him, they could bench him, they can do a million things.” ) It’s hard times in New York town.

There is an argument to be made that Delgado isn’t done. Last year, he hit a disastrous .242 AVG/.305 OBA/.435 SLG in the first half, which inspired much wailing even if it didn’t inspire him to keep a watch over his shoulder for shadowy, Wilpon-funded hit men. And then he hit a respectable .285/.375/.469 the rest of the way. He might see a similar improvement this year, the line goes, and so he shouldn’t be considered toast.

I don’t buy this, for two reasons. The first is that, given Delgado’s atrocious defense and baserunning — he’s among the worst in the league in both areas — even that second-half performance is totally inadequate. Last year, National League first basemen hit .284/.365/.481. The second is that he’s not going to repeat it. Going into last night’s game, he was hitting .208/.303/.286, and while that will improve with time, it’s not the biggest possible exaggeration to say that it’s probably closer to his true abilities at this point than even a league-average batting line would be.

One problem, maybe the worst one, is that Delgado has seemingly completely lost the ability to reach the outer half of the plate. This was visible to even the least observant last year, but it’s gotten even worse this year, when he’s had four hits (three of them singles) on pitches from the middle of the strike zone on out. The man can reach out and put the bat on the ball to slap it foul, but he can’t hit it with any authority at all.

Like most left-handed power hitters, Delgado is basically a pull hitter, so this isn’t necessarily an immense problem in its own right. The Mets are not counting on him to shoot dribblers up the third base line or through the hole the other way, but to crank long hits down the right field line. When a hitter can’t even pose the threat of being able to hit an outside pitch, though, he’s going to get nothing else. This isn’t just a hole in his swing, but a gaping black pit of despair. No pitcher needs to throw a pitch in his wheelhouse at all, for any reason, because he’s just not going to be able to hit anything that isn’t in it. This, I suspect, is why he’s hitting for so little power: It’s less that he’s incapable of hitting the ball really hard, but that he’s incapable of forcing pitchers to serve the ball where he can tag it.

When a soon-to-be 36-year-old first baseman with balky knees begins exhibiting such problems, the end is nigh. Recently, the Toronto Blue Jays released Frank Thomas, purportedly because he fit the same description I’ve given here of Delgado. This was a mistake, I think, because Thomas is one of the best baseball players, or at least hitters, of all time. Until he proves he can’t do it, you have to assume he can adjust to compensate for his weaknesses. Delgado, though, while he was a very fine player in his prime, is not (as Thomas is) a grandmaster. Whatever adjustments he made in the second half last year seem to have already been countered. He’s not as bad as he’s showed so far, but in broad outlines, what you see is more or less what he has to offer.

This leaves the Mets in a bad spot. No one else on the roster or in their system is capable of playing first base full time while hitting at all respectably. (Neither Moises Alou nor Ryan Church has ever played a major league game at the position, for the curious.) Even if they were inclined to make a trade, it’s unclear how they could do so — the farm system is barren, and few teams are ever looking to do a New York team a solid. For the present, and likely the rest of the year, Delgado it is. One just hopes that the fans and even the writers keep in mind that baseball is hard. Don’t get down on the man: Even if it isn’t enough, he’s doing what he can.

Much of the resentment and anger that fans and even writers tend to feel toward inept or washed-up ballplayers could be cured by a bit of empathy. No matter how much money they make, athletes are just like other people, and would prefer to do well rather than badly. Barring the rare case of plain jaking, uninspired play is the result of poor or diminished skill, not the opposite. Usually, if a hitter looks lethargic and as if he doesn’t care, it’s because he’s not any good. Not being any good, though, is hardly ever a function of not caring.

So, have some sympathy for Mets first baseman Carlos Delgado. He once was a great player, and now he isn’t. Every year for a full decade, the man hit at least 30 home runs, often more, and sometimes quite a lot more; last year he hit 24, and this year he’s on pace for eight. When he came to the Mets three years ago, he looked to have a decent chance at the Hall of Fame. Now, he looks to have only sketchy chances of holding a job next year. He’s been dropped a spot in the order, and radio host Chris Russo, in a characteristically thoughtful riff, even suggested on the air that the Mets should consider killing him. (“They could kill him, they could bench him, they can do a million things.” ) It’s hard times in New York.

There is an argument to be made that Delgado isn’t done. Last year, he hit a disastrous .242 AVG/.305 OBA/.435 SLG in the first half, which inspired much wailing even if it didn’t inspire him to keep a watch over his shoulder for shadowy, Wilpon-funded hit men. And then he hit a respectable .285/.375/.469 the rest of the way. He might see a similar improvement this year, the line goes, and so he shouldn’t be considered toast.

I don’t buy this, for two reasons. The first is that, given Delgado’s atrocious defense and baserunning — he’s among the worst in the league in both areas — even that second-half performance is totally inadequate. Last year, National League first basemen hit .284/.365/.481. The second is that he’s not going to repeat it. Going into last night’s game, he was hitting .208/.303/.286, and while that will improve with time, it’s not the biggest possible exaggeration to say that it’s probably closer to his true abilities at this point than even a league-average batting line would be.

One problem, maybe the worst one, is that Delgado has seemingly completely lost the ability to reach the outer half of the plate. This was visible to even the least observant fan last year, but it’s gotten even worse this year, when he’s had four hits (three of them singles) on pitches from the middle of the strike zone on out. The man can reach out and put the bat on the ball to slap it foul, but he can’t hit it with any authority at all.

Like most left-handed power hitters, Delgado is basically a pull hitter, so this isn’t necessarily an immense problem in its own right. The Mets are not counting on him to shoot dribblers up the third base line or through the hole the other way, but to crank long hits down the right field line. When a hitter can’t even pose the threat of being able to hit an outside pitch, though, he’s going to get nothing else. This isn’t just a hole in his swing, but a gaping black pit of despair. No pitcher needs to throw a pitch in his wheelhouse at all, for any reason, because he’s just not going to be able to hit anything that isn’t in it. This, I suspect, is why he’s hitting for so little power: It’s less that he’s incapable of hitting the ball really hard than that he’s incapable of forcing pitchers to serve the ball where he can tag it.

When a soon-to-be 36-year-old first baseman with balky knees begins exhibiting such problems, the end is nigh. Recently, the Toronto Blue Jays released Frank Thomas, purportedly because he fit the same description I’ve given here of Delgado. This was a mistake, I think, because Thomas is one of the best baseball players, or at least hitters, of all time. Until he proves he can’t do it, you have to assume he can adjust to compensate for his weaknesses. Delgado, though, while he was a very fine player in his prime, is not (as Thomas is) a grand master. Whatever adjustments he made in the second half last year seem to have already been countered. He’s not as bad as he’s showed so far, but in broad outlines, what you see is more or less what he has to offer.

This leaves the Mets in a bad spot. No one else on the roster or in their system is capable of playing first base full time while hitting at all respectably. (Neither Moises Alou nor Ryan Church has ever played a major league game at the position, for the curious.) Even if the team were inclined to make a trade, it’s unclear how they could do so — the farm system is barren, and few teams are ever looking to do a New York team a solid. For the present, and likely for the rest of the year, Delgado it is. One just hopes that the fans, and even the writers, keep in mind that baseball is hard. Don’t get down on the man: Even if it isn’t enough, he’s doing what he can.