By Sunday 
It’s shaping up to be a dramatic Bronx reunion this weekend—one filled with high stakes, higher emotions, and maybe a few boo birds. Juan Soto is stepping back into Yankee Stadium, not in pinstripes this time, but in Mets blue and orange. And oh boy, Yankees fans have thoughts.
From Pennant Hero to Crosstown Villain
Let’s rewind. Juan Soto lit up the Bronx in his one and only season as a Yankee. The man mashed 41 homers and played a huge role in delivering New York its first AL pennant since 2009. He was electric—no two ways about it.
But then came free agency.
Soto signed a 15-year, $765 million megadeal with the Mets. Yes, the Mets. As if that wasn’t spicy enough, he’s now returning for the always-intense Subway Series. Cue the ESPN mics and TikToks.
Yankees Fans Sound Off—Loudly
Ahead of Soto’s return, ESPN New York took to the streets with a hilariously oversized mic (because, of course), asking fans for their messages to the superstar. Some fans came with love—grateful for the memories, the bombs, the bat flips.
Others? Not so forgiving.
From “traitor” accusations to full-on verbal jabs, it’s safe to say not everyone in the Bronx is in a nostalgic mood.
Soto Knows What’s Coming
And Soto? He’s not blind to what awaits.
“It’s going to be 50,000 against one,” he told Jon Heyman of the New York Post. “They’re going to try to get on me, you know. It’s part of it.”
He’s clearly bracing for a loud, maybe hostile, environment—but he also seems to get the game. Yankees fans are passionate. They cheer hard, they boo harder, and they never forget.
A Rental, Remember?
To be fair, most Yankees fans knew what they were getting into. Soto was always a rental, a one-season flame with free agency looming like a ninth-inning rain delay. It was a wild ride while it lasted, but everyone knew it might not end with a happily-ever-after.
Still, the fact that he signed with the Mets—the Yankees’ noisy neighbors—just turned up the volume.
Expect Boos, Maybe a Thank You or Two
When Soto steps into that batter’s box on Friday night at 7:05 p.m., expect the boos to rain down. Loudly. But maybe, just maybe, somewhere in the sea of jeers, a couple fans will hold up a thank-you sign. Maybe someone will remember that pennant run and nod in appreciation—before booing anyway, because, hey, that’s baseball in New York.
It’s going to be electric. It’s going to be emotional. And it’s going to be very loud.
Let the Subway Series begin.