No matter how hotly Mets general manager Steve Phillips denies his plan to release Rickey Henderson, it's clear the left fielder used up the reservoir of goodwill he created last year by hitting .315 with a .423 on-base percentage. Sooner or later, Henderson and the Mets will end their bizarre marriage.

The hostility between player and management reached its breaking point this past weekend in Florida, when Henderson accused manager Bobby Valentine of "not having a plan." He said the Mets were no longer a family, just an assembly of unhappy players left in disarray by Valentine's use of multiple lineups.

	Henderson's Mets career is most remembered for his card-playing incident during Game 6 of the 1999 NLCS.

That prompted Phillips to place Henderson on waivers, hoping that, miraculously, some team would claim him. Obviously, there's no hope for that, since, even without the rebellious attitude, Henderson is hitting just .207 with one extra-base hit and one stolen base since April 10.

His $2 million contract is another deal-breaker, and by Wednesday, when he clears waivers, the Mets will have to decide whether to release Henderson outright. It's either that or live with his fluctuating moods and motivation levels.

Obviously, the Mets miscalculated in believing they could keep Rickey hustling for two full seasons. Despite his impressive 1999 numbers, his relationship with Valentine started deteriorating by late summer, ending altogether with the now-famous card game during Game 6 of the NL Championship Series. Henderson still hasn't taken responsibility for his decision to leave the dugout and play poker with Bobby Bonilla -- an act so indefensible that some members of the Mets organization vowed never to forgive him.

Interestingly, though, Henderson finally broke his silence about the card game. Speaking to a reporter this past weekend during the Mets-Marlins series, Henderson denied he and Bonilla missed the dramatic 11th inning against the Atlanta Braves.

"We were in the clubhouse, that's true, but that's because me and Bobby were already out of the game. But there were five pitchers in there with us," Henderson said. "How come it was OK for them to be in there, but not us? Why do people only talk about me and Bobby?

"We played cards before the game, but that's the same thing we did all year. There was no game going on at the end. We were watching the game."

Several Mets dispute Henderson's version, claiming that he and Bonilla never saw a single pitch that Kenny Rogers threw to Andruw Jones with the bases loaded, an at-bat that ultimately ended with the bases-loaded walk that finished the Mets' season.

The loss was so emotional -- indeed, so devastating to the Mets -- one veteran said, "Guys came into the clubhouse screaming and crying." Upon seeing Henderson and Bonilla at the card table, the player said, "We wanted to take a bat to their heads."

Henderson's one-man rebellion didn't stop there, even after the Mets released Bonilla this winter and replaced him with Derek Bell. Rickey decided he was being underpaid at $2 million, even though he'd agreed to the automatic rollover that was vested as soon as he reached his 500th plate appearance in 1999.

Henderson asked for a raise during spring, was flatly refused, and proceeded to go on a work stoppage. First, he told reporters he was finished with the Mets and was seeking a trade. Then he threatened not to accompany the team to Japan, and then appeared to play at half-speed during the Mets' 2-1 win over San Diego on April 3.

After going 0-for-4 that day, Henderson admitted he "wasn't into" the game, although he later said his comments were misrepresented and "blown out of proportion."

Indeed, even before learning Tuesday that he'd been placed on waivers, Henderson said, "It burns me, some of the things I hear people saying, because most of it's wrong.

"They say I don't care, that I'm dogging it. I say, everything I've gotten in my career, I've worked for. Nothing was ever given to me. And almost every team I've played for has won."

There are Mets who strongly support Henderson. Bell, for one, calls Henderson, "the greatest teammate I ever had. I learned more about basestealing in 30 minutes from Rickey in spring training than I did in my whole career. The guy is unbelievable, what he knows, what he sees in a pitcher (in the stretch position)."

Unfortunately, Henderson's antics -- or, to be more precise, his attitude -- are soiling a Hall of Fame career. Years from now, it's likely people will remember him only for the card game and the whining and his lack of enthusiasm on the bases.

Pity, because Henderson's résumé is breathtaking. He's the game's all-time basestealing champion, with 1,366, every bit as dangerous as Lou Brock and Maury Wills but with the power quotient of a No. 3 hitter.

In fact, Rickey changed the definition of a leadoff hitter. He could draw a walk or take you 400-feet deep. Either way, he was a once-in-a-generation player and no other leadoff hitter -- not Wills or Brock or Tim Raines or Lenny Dykstra or Chuck Knoblauch -- ever came close.

But that won't be enough to keep the Mets interested in Henderson. Whether it's next week or next month, he'll be set free, wearing one more blemish on a career that should've never had any.

Bob Klapisch of the Bergen (N.J.) Record will write his Baseball in the Big Apple column throughout the season.