Yoenis Céspedes was sitting by his locker in the New York Mets clubhouse, taping the base of one of teammate Juan Uribe’s bats. Céspedes was about to repeat the ritual on another bat when he heard the words "¡qué volá, asere!" (“What's up, buddy?") uttered in the rough-hewn accent of the Greater Antilles. This was more than enough to get his attention. Céspedes immediately stopped working.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me, knowing that only fellow Cubans pronounce the greeting with the correct rhythm. And he had never heard it pronounced that way in New York, much less in the Mets locker room at Citi Field. Céspedes didn't even wait for an answer before he smiled and offered his hand as if we were lifelong friends.

Although he has a reputation for being serious, Céspedes, who was traded to the Mets from the Detroit Tigers on July 31, is far from a humorless figure. He's a regular guy who loves a joke and -- off the field, anyway -- is almost always smiling.

"People think I'm a guy who doesn't speak, that I'm closed off. But it's not like that,” said the 29-year-old outfielder. "When I came to Detroit, everyone thought the same until they got to know me. Eventually they came to realize the truth."

Céspedes, a native of Campechuela, in the eastern Cuban province of Granma, no longer competes with teammates to see who can eat more pizza and drink more smoothies, as he often did against his "friend and brother" Alfredo Despaigne, who he played with during the Cuban National Series and on the Cuban national team. But now, with the Mets, Céspedes competes in other contests with Uribe and Juan Lagares, both Dominicans, and with Rubén Tejada, a Panamanian.

The four players share a chemistry and plenty of pranks. One of these, a photo in which Céspedes was pictured with two huge trays covered with what once were crabs, even appeared on social networks.

Seafood feast! Last night the team enjoyed some of the local flavor. #Mets pic.twitter.com/1GvnBhTj2m

— New York Mets (@Mets) August 19, 2015

"No, I didn't eat all that,” Céspedes said with a big smile, as if recalling that on that occasion it was his turn to be the butt of the joke. "Uribe, Tejada and Lagares were eating. When they stopped, I sat down to eat five shrimp they'd left me and they took the picture. But it wasn't me who ate it all."

Where Céspedes is always serious, however, is on the field. That has helped him adapt to life in the media capital of the world, where both the fans and the press tend to be extremely demanding.

In fact, Céspedes managed to win them all over quickly. The fans at Citi Field chant "MVP, MVP, MVP" each time he steps up to the plate. And the New York press has fallen at his feet.

David Denby, a writer for The New Yorker, recently wrote an open letter in perfect Spanish describing the Cuban's impact on Queens, including passages such as: "God bless your talent! ... New York is also the media center of the world. Sometimes, a player waits for that perfect fit of talent and team to become truly great. Over the past six weeks, you have made a real difference in the life of this city. Please, stay at Citi Field, make it your home and bring us a World Series ring!"

Céspedes, who also played for the Oakland A’s from 2012-14 and the Boston Red Sox for half a season in 2014, said that moving between teams has not affected him. At the foot of the stairs that lead to the Mets dugout at Citi Field, he explained that Oakland, Detroit and New York "are very different cities, but for me they are much the same. In all the cities I've been in, I only make one journey: from home to the stadium and from the stadium to home. I don't go out partying, I don't go out to have fun. I'm just here in the stadium."

He also admits, without a hint of embarrassment, that he doesn't even drive in New York. "People here drive like crazy,” he said. (His agent provides a car that takes him to and from games.)

This complete focus on his work has helped Céspedes lead the Mets, who will face the Los Angeles Dodgers on Friday night at Dodger Stadium, to the National League Divisional Series. In 57 games with the Mets, Céspedes hit .287/.337/.941 with a slugging percentage of .604 and 2.3 wins above replacement; he also had 44 RBIs and 35 extra-base hits, including 17 homers. Those numbers have been enough to make him a contender for the National League MVP award.

"This year, I prepared very well during the offseason, both in Cuba and in my first three years over here,” he said. "My first part of this season wasn't bad, but it wasn't as good as I wanted it to be. After the trade, things got even better. The thing is, I always play better in the second half of the season."

Céspedes’ 17 homers in a Mets uniform are just one less than he hit in 102 games with Detroit. He said playing primarily in National League ballparks -- which, with the exception of Marlins Park, are smaller than Detroit's pitcher-friendly Comerica Park -- has helped. "I think that's why I've hit more home runs,” he said.

"The Power” -- as Céspedes was christened by his fellow granmense, broadcaster Pachi Espinosa -- compared the Oakland Athletics sides with which he enjoyed his first postseason experiences (in 2012 and 2013) with this Mets team. "The A's didn't have a team of big names, but, in spite of being young, as a group we had a great desire to play baseball,” he said. "We played with enthusiasm, we gave everything out on the field. I think that's why we managed to make the postseason for two consecutive years."

As for the Mets, "we've got what it takes to win a playoff, which is pitching,” he said. "I think if we keep playing well and the pitching stays as it is, we've got a chance to go far."

How far?

"Potentially as far as the World Series," he shot back, as quickly as he swings his bat.

Free agency looms

Céspedes will be a free agent at the end of the season. Given that he is the main reason the Mets have been the best offensive team in the National League since August -- they were the worst in the league from April to July -- and that he is represented by Roc Nation Sports, some believe that his next contract could be worth between $130 million and $175 million.

The figures don't appear to faze him. "I don't worry about [contracts], but what I do know is that I'll be looking for no less than six years -- six years or more,” he told ESPN Deportes' Marly Rivera in September. "We'll see what happens.”

A few days earlier, Céspedes had assured the New York Post that it was he who asked the Mets to tweak his contract in order to give them a reasonable period in which they could negotiate with him, rather than just the standard five days to make an offer. "They can even sign me during the offseason, if that's what they want," he said.

The chemistry Céspedes feels with the rest of the Mets team and the warmth he’s felt from the fans are the reasons he's being so accommodating. "I'm very happy here,” he said. "This is the best team I've ever been a part of."

He is not the intermediary

Since the thaw between the governments of Cuba and the United States began on Dec. 17, 2014, there has been intense speculation that Céspedes would become a kind of intermediary between the Cuban stars of Major League Baseball and Cuban government authorities, represented by Tony Castro, son of the former Cuban leader Fidel Castro and nephew of current president Raul Castro.

According to sources, the rumor grew from an alleged meeting between Céspedes and Tony Castro in Toronto in 2013. Céspedes denies that it was anything more than a quick hello. "I didn't meet with him,” he said. "It's true that I saw him when I was playing in Toronto. He was at the game and we greeted each other in the stadium, but nothing more. I didn't meet with him."

Heriberto Suárez, Cuba's national baseball commissioner, said that "perhaps players who are now in other places can rejoin the [national] team. It's a possibility, but I don't know right now." He later backtracked and confirmed that players who ply their trade in Major League Baseball will not be called to play for Cuba in the 2017 World Baseball Classic.

His change of mind closed the doors against Céspedes and the other Cuban stars who play in the top league in the world. But Céspedes doesn't seem to be worried about it. If he were to get the call to rejoin the Cuban national team, he would "have to think about it,” he said. "I wouldn't have an immediate answer."

On the other hand, Céspedes gave a resounding yes to the idea of finishing his career with the Granma Alazanes (the Cuban National Series team with which he spent eight years). "Of course. I'd gladly do it,” he said. "Hopefully things in Cuba will change."

When Céspedes said he would like to finish his career with the Alazanes, he had no idea that his former teammates in Granma had retired the number 51 he wore there for eight seasons.

Upon discovering that his number has been retired for the senior team (only his brother Yoelkis was able to wear it, in the under-23 tournament), Céspedes fell silent. It seemed as though, for a few seconds, he was back in Cuba, in Granma, in his native Campechuela, where it all began.

Four years after his departure, his teammates haven't forgotten him, and nor have his countrymen, who somehow manage to connect to the Internet (which, in Cuba, is more difficult and costly than the 12 Labors of Hercules) to follow the career, in the world's best baseball league, of the man who was once christened "El Talento" and who is now known as "La Potencia."