Mets' Francisco Lindor has grown into leadership role with club

This isn’t a column about Francisco Lindor’s mistakes, even though mistakes are part of how he got here.

It’s not about his rocky first year with the Mets, the infamous “thumbs-down” incident or the even more infamous rat-raccoon incident (ah, memories — strange, strange memories). But you have to mention it all if you’re going to understand the level of transformation he’s undergone in the past few seasons.

As he sat at the dais at Citi Field before the team’s workout Wednesday, it was evident in every measured response, every insistence that this season will not be easy but certainly will be worthwhile.

“I’ve definitely become a more mature player, a better person, and someone that — you come to me, and I listen a lot more,” he said of the past few years. “I’ve had ups and downs here and I’ve learned from everyone in this city, in this room, in that clubhouse over there . . .

“I continue to learn, and when it comes to the leadership part, as a teammate, as a human, I learn from it and I just pass it on and give that knowledge to others so they don’t make the same mistakes that I made, or they navigate it a little bit differently. Or [they go] the same route, [because] there’s some things I’ve done right.”

It’s kind of funny, isn’t it? At first blush, nothing about Lindor is understated — not his eclectic style or his wide smile, and certainly not his glove or his bat. But in the past few years, the Mets shortstop has done the improbable: He’s sort of . . . flown under the radar.

Part of that has to do with the fact that this team simply was not good last year, and part of it has to do with things outside his control.

When people think of team leadership, they often look to Pete Alonso (though, to be fair, Lindor gets thrown in the mix). He hasn’t been named to an All-Star team in the past four seasons despite unequivocally being one of the best shortstops in the game. Last year, he had one of the quietest 30/30 seasons in recent memory. He’s consistently in front of his locker to answer questions — often serving as an ad hoc spokesman for the Mets’ many ills. But still, sometimes the old narrative surrounding his character follows him around.

And frankly, it’s time to put that to rest: Lindor, through his growth and his actions, has made himself every bit the team captain that his 10-year, $341 million contract would require.

“He seems like a natural leader,” Carlos Mendoza said. “I’m going to go back to this winter when he was voluntarily training with some of our guys and how much interaction he was having with some of our younger players and teaching those guys. And not only the younger players, but the veterans and things like that. [Then there’s] how much more vocal he’s been in our meetings. Special player, special person.”

That’s an interesting balance: By Lindor’s own account, he’s learned to listen more, and by his manager’s account, he’s learned to become more vocal. They seem mutually exclusive, but to understand why they’re not, you have to think back to those difficult first years.

There’s no doubt that Lindor felt the pressure when he first came to Flushing, and it seemed as if that sometimes manifested in a brash, more authoritative form of leadership — in short, the type that can rub people the wrong way.

The “thumbs-down” incident — in which he and Javy Baez essentially jeered at fans who had booed them — did little to endear him to New York and raised questions about his ability to survive in baseball’s most hostile environment.

He could have doubled down. Instead, he apologized. He looked inward. And that’s really the key to thriving here: If you try to take on the city, the city always wins.

After that, it was about building himself back up. Lindor learned to speak when necessary — such as when he took accountability in the midst of chaos last year — and lead by example, such as this past offseason, when he took Mark Vientos under his wing. Now he gets to add another chapter to this story, and maybe, along the way, his rapid internal growth will be recognized.

“I’ve definitely grown,” he said. “That said, we all make mistakes, but I’m definitely more comfortable. It feels like I’m home, and whenever you feel like you’re in a place where you’re home, you’re safe, you definitely navigate your days a little differently.”

Home is right.

This city and its fans respect those who respect it, and by adapting to his surroundings, Lindor proved himself a real New Yorker. A leader, too.

By Laura Albanese

laura.albanese@newsday.com@AlbaneseLaura

Laura Albanese is a reporter, feature writer and columnist covering local professional sports teams; she began at Newsday in 2007 as an intern.