San Francisco ? Carlos Beltran makes sure to stare straight ahead when the conversational road leads to his bizarre first year with the Mets. Here he is, in the middle of a race for the wild card, his Mets teammates having just microwaved the Diamondbacks’ pitching staff in a four-game sweep, but Beltran will not – cannot – seem to enjoy it.

There’s a good reason for the forced stoicism. Beltran had been sucked into the vortex of a monstrous production drought – just one homer in his last 103 at-bats, one RBI in 14 games and just one hit in the four-game sweep of the Diamondbacks.

After going 1-for-4 Friday night in the Mets’ 1-0 victory over the Giants, the organization-wide question remains: What’s wrong? Nothing and everything, depending on whom you ask. Beltran has been medically cleared from that gruesome collision with Mike Cameron, although he won’t dare admit he might still be subliminally afraid of the ball, perhaps trying to protect the broken bones in his face.

Instead, Beltran keeps insisting he’s the victim of old-fashioned bad luck – swinging with authority without any hits to show for it.

“When you hit the ball hard and you don’t get results, you say, ‘man.’ At the end of the day you need results,” Beltran said Friday night before the Mets’ game against the Giants. “But I have to continue to do my thing. I know my time will come.”

Lucky for Beltran that he’s been able to hide while everyone else has gone on a run-scoring orgy. David Wright and Jose Reyes were leading the National League in base hits since the All-Star break, with 56 and 53. Mike Jacobs, meanwhile, is hitting home runs like they do in the movies.

If it weren’t for the new-age Mets, Beltran would be feeling even more first-year anxiety than he already does. Still, if Beltran is pressing now, imagine if the Yankees had taken him up on his offer of a $10 million discount last winter and he was wearing pinstripes today.

With only 60 RBIs at September’s doorstep, Beltran would be a walking target for the Bombers’ front office, particularly the most vicious second-guessers in Tampa. Instead, Beltran is able to say, “I’m going to turn this around” and know not a single Met executive regrets the $119 million deal they gave Beltran in January.

Still, it’s worth noting how the slugger has handled his New York debut: Beltran neither celebrates nor pouts, as composed as Wright is bubbly. Beltran is the anti-Gary Sheffield; there’s no violence to his swing, no edge to his personality.

Ultimately, it’s that impenetrable sense of calm that’ll rescue Beltran’s offense, but the question is whether it’ll happen in the last 34 games of the regular season. To say the Mets need Beltran to win the wild card goes without saying. No one, least of all Willie Randolph, has to remind him of that.

But despite his impressive people skills, even Randolph is at a loss to know what Beltran really thinks or feels.

“You can never tell with Carlos,” is what the manager said. Instead of forcing a one-on-one conversation, Randolph is content to let Beltran’s actions speak for themselves.

He did, after all, volunteer to return to the lineup just four games after suffering a facial fracture. Beltran had the option of undergoing surgery, which would’ve eased his discomfort but would’ve separated him from the Mets for several days, if not weeks.

Randolph is right when he says, “A lot of guys could’ve said, ‘I’ll take my time,’ But Carlos felt a responsibility.”

But now that he’s back, Beltran can’t remain invisible. Sooner or later Jacobs will return to the race of men. Wright and Reyes can’t be counted on to carry the offense forever, too, although their timing couldn’t have been better in Arizona.

While Beltran struggled, the Mets scored 39 runs against the D-Backs, never once trailing in the four games, batting .326 overall. It’s obviously a small sample of the Mets’ offensive prowess – and against an Arizona staff that, obviously, had flipped the calendar to 2006 – but Wright wasn’t kidding when he said, “It’s scary what we can do when we’re hitting like this.”

Thing is, no one expects such miracles from any of the Mets’ under-25 crew. That might explain why Wright and Reyes and Jacobs, not to mention Victor Diaz, are all so dangerous – they’re loose.

Beltran is in a different place in his professional life, evidenced by how little eye contact he makes when you ask about a very sensitive subject – that monstrous slump.

The wall to his soul doesn’t budge, not even an inch.

“I didn’t have a good series (against Arizona) but what’s important to me is that we’re winning,” Beltran said stiffly. “I’m seeing the ball good. I’m being honest, I feel good.”

He went on to point out he steals bases at will (which is true) and that he’s never stopped working hard (which no one doubts). But the longer Beltran spoke, the more obvious was his hunger for a breakout game.

Maybe then he’ll loosen up, although that’s a relative term for Beltran. At this point, The Smooth One needs to get angry, if not at himself, then at the next fastball he sees. It couldn’t hurt.