Last week, Russell Carleton wrote a thought-provoking article for Baseball Prospectus about the automatic ball-strike system, which will be creeping into the major league level during spring training in just a few months. What I found really fascinating was the particular distinction Carleton drew between the current zone and the robot one. “I think that there is a human element that we need to consider when talking about the automated strike zone,” Carleton wrote. “It’s just not that human element. It’s the one no one wants to talk about.” The element he was referring to was probability.

Assuming it’s functioning properly, the robot zone is perfectly black and white. Every pitch either touches the strike zone or doesn’t and that’s that. On the other hand, humans are imperfect, so the zone they call features plenty of gray. Pick any spot in or near the strike zone, and you can look up the probability that it will be called a ball or a strike. In the moment, for any one batter and pitcher, that’s completely unfair; a robot would know with 100% certainty whether the pitch should have been called a strike or a ball, whereas roughly 7% of the time, the human umpire will make the wrong call, screwing somebody over in the process. But over the course of a long season, things tend to balance out, and you can construct some reasonable arguments in favor of the current, unintentionally probabilistic approach.

If you’re familiar with the work of Umpire Scorecards, you’re likely used to the idea of a probability-based strike zone already. Umpire Scorecards grades umpires not simply by how well they adhere to the rulebook zone, but by how much better or worse than average they are at adhering to it. In order to make that judgement, it’s necessary to consider sorts of factors that might affect the call of an average umpire: location, speed, break, handedness, count, and so on. “The reality is that there’s the ‘definitely a strike’ zone,” Carleton wrote last week. “There’s the ‘definitely not a strike’ zone. And there’s the fuzzy zone. There are different rules in the fuzzy zone. Taking away the fuzzy zone and forcing it into the yes/no zone is going to have some very unpredictable consequences.” Take the count as an example. As you surely know, umpires see their zones tighten up with two strikes and loosen up with three balls. If that tendency disappeared, walk and strikeout rates would likely go up. Do we want that?

Because an ever-increasing number of umpires rose through the ranks under a system that rewards them for adhering to the Statcast zone, accuracy has been rising and rising. Another way to phrase it is that humans have been successfully trained to perform more and more like robots. We’ve already seen some of the consequences Carleton mentioned. Accuracy has increased faster for pitches inside the zone than outside the zone, which has resulted in more called strikes and depressed offense. Another effect is that umpires have been calling more strikes at the bottom of the zone – or if you prefer, catchers have been stealing more strikes at the bottom of the zone. Today, we’re particularly interested in the top and bottom, because when I was reading Carleton’s article, one thing kept popping into my mind. Here’s a diagram of the strike zone pulled straight from the MLB rulebook. Whoever posed for this thing has some serious cheekbones. Seriously, this dude is absolutely smoldering:

The rulebook zone starts at the midpoint between the shoulders and the top of the pants, which is why each time a new batter comes to the plate, the umpire stops the game, pulls out their trusty tape measure, and calculates that exact spot. Wait, sorry, the umpire doesn’t do that. As a result, the top and bottom of the zone are blurrier than the sides. Players on the extremes of the height spectrum often bear the brunt of that. If you look at the players who led the league in called strikes above the zone in 2024, you’ll find that five of the top eight – Sal Frelick, Corbin Carroll, Seiya Suzuki, Josh Smith, and Jose Altuve – stand 5-foot-10 or shorter. Likewise, the umpire never squats down to make sure they register the exact height of the hollow beneath the kneecap, so if you look for players who got the the most called strikes below the zone, you’ll find that four of the top 11 – Michael Toglia, Oneil Cruz, Elly De La Cruz, and Aaron Judge – stand 6-foot-5 or taller. It’s not as dramatic a percentage as the short players at the bottom of the zone, but the trend is clear and it’s understandable. The torso midpoint and the knee hollow are just guidelines based on dubious anatomical landmarks – it might help to think of them the way a hitting coach thinks of instructional cues: You don’t actually want the batter to hit a low line drive to the opposite field every single time, but focusing on that goal can help them keep their swing right – and they’re every bit as fuzzy as the calls of the umpires tasked with abiding by them.

The ABS zone eschews body parts. It knows nothing of knees and shoulders, and if a batter were to sag their pants extremely low, it wouldn’t care that the midpoint between their top and the shoulders had just shifted down dramatically, reducing the size of the strike zone. (To be clear, a human umpire wouldn’t adjust the strike zone based on saggy pants either, but according to the letter of the law, they should.) ABS determines the top and bottom of the zone by using a percentage of the batter’s height, which is why hundreds of minor leaguers suddenly shrank last fall. The top of the zone is 53.5% of the batter’s height, while the bottom is 27%. If you’re keeping score at home, that means that the total height of the strike zone is 26.5% of the batter’s height. If that strikes you as a small percentage, you’re not wrong. I ran some quick measurements on our rulebook strike zone friend in the diagram above. His strike zone represents a whopping 41% of his crouched height. As it turns out, that’s because the proportions of the diagram are a bit off. If you measure everything based on the width of the strike zone in the diagram, 17 inches, you’ll discover that our friendly guy only stands 4-foot-5. Once again, this is the actual diagram that describes the strike zone in the official Major League Baseball rulebook! The height of the zone in the diagram works out to 22 inches. In order for it to be accurate according to the ABS zone – in which the height of the zone represents 26.5% of the batter’s total height – the batter would need to be 6-foot-9. When he stood up out of his crouch, our tiny batter would somehow need to find an extra an extra 27 inches of height!

I understand that umpires are being judged based on the Statcast zone, and that they’re also working off decades of experience. It’s not as if they’re pulling this diagram out of their pockets as a refresher between pitches. And maybe the foreshortening here is just a little bit dramatic. But also, uh, it may be time to update the officially sanctioned illustration of the zone that they see in their rulebooks.

All of this led me to one question: How much bigger is the strike zone for a tall player than a short player? Because ABS uses simple percentages based on the batter’s height, we can determine that exactly. Here’s the thing about the strike zone, though. The effective size of the strike zone is a lot bigger than its actual size. If one electron on the baseball’s outer edge passes through the zone, then the pitch counts as a strike. The zone that pitchers aim for and batters protect isn’t just 17 inches wide. It’s 17 inches wide plus the diameter of a baseball on either side. Regulation balls are between 2.865 to 2.944 inches in diameter, and we’re going to make our calculations using the bigger size, simply because, once again, we care about the effective zone that the batter actually has to protect. In all, that means the zone is just a hair under 22.889 inches wide for everyone.

The same goes for the height of the zone. Because this is the variable part, let’s just start with an average, 6-foot-2 major leaguer. The top of the zone will be 53.5% of their 74-inch height, which is to say 39.590 inches. Add the height of the ball and that brings us to 42.534 inches. For reference, a standard kitchen counter is 36 inches tall, so put a bobblehead on your counter and you’ve got the top of the zone for an average player. The bottom of the zone is 27% of their height, and once we factor in the diameter of the baseball, that works out to 17.036 inches off the ground. The average newborn baby is 19 to 20 inches tall, so for reference, head to the nursery of your local hospital, borrow the shortest baby you can find, and politely ask them to stand up. That’s the bottom of the average player’s zone.

To get the total area of the zone, we’re back in geometry class: Simply multiply the base times the height. Well, actually, that’s not quite true in this case. We need to remove some area around the corners because of the roundness of the baseball. Let me show you what I mean. Here’s the top-left corner of the zone:

There are three baseballs here. The one on the bottom and the one on the right are just barely touching the rulebook strike zone, so they’re definitely strikes. But what about the one on the top left? The edges of the ball, both on the bottom and on the right side, are within the parameters of the strike zone, but because it doesn’t have corners, the ball isn’t actually touching the zone. I don’t know how the Hawk-Eye system works, but I have to assume that it’s prepared for such a scenario. Right? Maybe? Even a perfect rulebook strike zone needs to have curved corners to account for this. I can’t tell you the exact area that we need to subtract from each corner of the zone because I have forgotten approximately 100% of the trigonometry I’ve ever learned. However, I used Photoshop to cheat and get an approximate measurement. I simply threw a whole bunch of baseballs on the same diagram, all of them touching the exact corner of the zone, and then measured the area in pink relative to the size of the ball.

[Update: Reader Joe Wilkey pointed out in the comments that the solution to this corner conundrum is actually very simple geometry. For each corner, you take the area of a square whose sides are the same diameter as the baseball (8.670 inches), then you subtract from it a quarter of the area of a circle whose radius is the diameter of a baseball (6.809 inches). The diagram below should help explain how that works. That means that we’ll subtract 1.860 inches per corner, or 7.442 inches in total. The following numbers have been updated to account for that figure.]

With that last puzzle piece in place, we can calculate the exact size of each player’s strike zone. The formula looks like this:

Area of Strike Zone = (((Width of Plate + (Width of Baseball x 2)) x (53.5% of Height – 27% of Height + (Width of Baseball x 2))) – (4 x ((Width of Baseball x Width of Baseball) – (pi x Width of Baseball x Width of Baseball ÷ 4)))

If all those parentheses make you want to die, we can hop into algebra and simplify the formula so it looks like this:

Area of Strike Zone = (22.9 x (26.5% of Height + 5.9)) – 7.4

Now that our formula is settled, let’s see how much of the strike zone different players actually have to cover.

Let’s go to everyone’s favorite odd couple. Aaron Judge’s strike zone is 3.45 inches taller than Jose Altuve’s, and its total area is a whopping 78.9 square inches larger. To put that in context, a marbled composition notebook, the kind you used to use in school, has a total area of 70.7 inches. That’s a pretty significant extra amount to cover, and don’t even get me started on the difference between Sean Hjelle’s zone and Shakira’s. If the 5-foot-4 Wee Willie Keeler were to come back and play as a zombie batter today, his strike zone would be almost perfectly square. For anyone shorter, the zone would be wider than it is tall.

Maybe even more interesting are the columns for the top and bottom. Judge’s zone starts seven inches above Altuve’s, but it ends just 3.5 inches below it. That’s just a result of using a percentage as the determining factor. It makes all the sense in the world to do so, but it’s likely the reason that list of players who get lots of unjust called strikes at the top of the zone is more densely packed with short players. The knees of short and tall players are much closer in height than their shoulders. When taking the height of the batter into account, umpires should be adjusting more at the top of the zone than the bottom, but clearly, that’s not so easy to do.

As for whether or not all of this is fair – bigger players having so much more zone to worry about than smaller players – my answer is a firm maybe. In absolute terms, Oneil Cruz has a much bigger strike zone to cover than Corbin Carroll, which is patently unfair. However, proportionally speaking, he doesn’t have to reach any higher or lower than Carroll does to get to the top or the bottom of the zone. The angles are exactly the same. Moreover, if we keep analyzing things proportionally, it’s clear that the strike zone is much narrower for him. Because Cruz’s larger height leaves him with longer arms and a longer torso to lean with, Carroll has to reach for an outside pitch in a way that Cruz doesn’t. The stills below are both taken from hard-hit balls on pitches that hit the outside corner.

Carroll’s whole swing is affected by the need to reach out for the ball, but look how much more upright Cruz is on the left. Even on the outside corner, the pitch is in his wheelhouse and he’s able to pull it approximately 9,000 feet. I’d guess that more than offsets the extra 54.6 inches of zone that Cruz has to cover. Even if we use an ABS system to implement a perfect strike zone, we still can’t make it perfectly fair.

After 17 seasons as a professional baseball player – very nearly half his life – Kyle Higashioka has signed his first major league free agent contract. And the timing couldn’t have been better. Higashioka entered a thin catching market coming off the most productive offensive season of his career, and he cashed in to the tune of a slightly back-loaded two-year, $12.5 million deal with the Rangers. The deal also has a $7 million mutual option for 2027 with a $1 million buyout, which means Higashioka is guaranteed to make $13.5 million.

One very disappointing year removed from a World Series championship, the Rangers are hoping that the 34-year-old’s consistency can help them bounce back into contention. Higashioka has now strung together three consecutive seasons in which he’s played at least 83 games and put up at least 1.3 WAR. Texas would love to see him make it four. Read the rest of this entry »

A couple weeks ago, I introduced the We Tried Tracker, which we are using to document each time a team claims that it was also in on a free agent who signed elsewhere. I was truly moved by your response. Many of you sent excellent leads on social media. The tip line I set up, WeTriedTracker@gmail.com, received 30 emails and only 26 of them were spam, which seems like a pretty good ratio to me. As things have gotten cooking, we’ve added color coding to the tracker, and (at the suggestion of Twitter user @YayaSucks) links to the original reporting for each We Tried. I will do my best to keep tricking out the tracker until it’s so bright and confusing that looking at it hurts both your eyes and your brain. Thank you to everyone who reached out with a tip, and please keep up the good work! So many teams are out there trying right now, and it is both our responsibility and our great privilege to award them partial credit for those efforts.

According to the Free Agent Matrices (which now contain the We Tried Tracker), 13 free agents have signed so far. In theory, that means there have been 377 opportunities for a We Tried, but that might not be the most reasonable way to look at things. We have so far documented five We Trieds, and I’d say that going 5-for-13 strikes me as a solid batting average, especially this early in the process, when only two names from the Top 50 are off the board. With that, let’s dive into the week in We Tried.

The second official We Tried of the offseason came in controversial fashion. On November 21, Dodgers manager Dave Roberts and A’s manager Mark Kotsay spoke at the USC Sports Business Summit in a segment titled Inside the Dugout: A Fireside Chat. Maybe it’s because I went to a tiny liberal arts college, but I’m really blown away by the USC Sports Business Association’s Adobe Creative Suite budget. Somebody’s not messing around with Canva.

Below is a still from the event that I grabbed from the SBA’s Instagram reel. This isn’t necessarily the point, but I think we should all take a moment to note the conspicuous absence of a fire.

That’s not a fireside chat, my friends. That is just a chat.

While chatting, Kotsay mentioned that the A’s had talked to free agent Walker Buehler, but that Buehler had told them he didn’t want to play in Sacramento. Right out of the gate, Kotsay was testing the limits of the We Tried. They usually come from reporters, and when they do come from a team source, that source is almost never the manager. Moreover, Kotsay was speaking to a group of college students. He probably didn’t expect his words to get out to the general public at all. It just so happened that one of those college students, Kasey Kazliner, is also a sports reporter who wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to break a story. Kazliner posted the comment 15 minutes into the chat. Less than 70 minutes after it ended, the hardworking R.J. Anderson had already published a full article about it for CBS Sports.

The second factor is that Buehler hasn’t signed anywhere yet. A week ago, I would have told you that by definition, We Trieds have to come after the free agent has actually signed, but after conferring with Jon Becker, I see now that I was wrong. A We Tried simply has to come when the team in question has decided that it’s out on a player, and if there’s one thing the A’s love, it’s getting the hell out of dodge. It may have been accidental, it may have come in a fraudulent fireside chat, and it may end up coming months before the player in question actually signs a contract, but the A’s have officially backed into the second We Tried of the season.

I have to be honest with you, I absolutely love that literally one day after creating the tracker we were already splitting hairs and getting pedantic about what counted and what didn’t count. What better way to spend the offseason than engaging in some light pedantry? And what’s the point of creating a leaderboard if you don’t get to argue about the score? That’s what makes it sports.

Two days before Thanksgiving, Christmas came early. Scoopslinger Jon Heyman set a season high by breaking three We Trieds in two posts. At 11:15 p.m. Eastern, he posted, “Red Sox were in on both Snell and [Yusei] Kikuchi before losing out. They seek rotation upgrades and have preferred a lefty.” This is a true classic of the form. There’s no quote, no attribution, and no supporting evidence. The Red Sox were simply “in on” Snell and Kikuchi, which could mean absolutely anything at all. Maybe they offered more money than the teams that actually signed them. Maybe they’d been meaning to look up their ERAs on the back of a Topps card. Either one would make Heyman’s words technically true. It’s the doubling up that makes it art, though. The Red Sox couldn’t have bothered to reach out to two different reporters, just for the sake of not making it look like they simply texted Heyman a picture of their shopping list? You have to ask yourself how many names could appear one announcement before you’d start to doubt its veracity. I think the answer is three. Say Max Fried signs somewhere on Tuesday, and Heyman posts that the Blue Jays were in on all of Fried, Snell, and Kikuchi. At that point, you’re in list mode. Once the reporter is using a serial comma, we’ve officially entered the realm of farce.

Shortly after Heyman’s post, Mark Feinsand cited a source who also included the Orioles to the mix of the teams that were in on Snell. But the night belonged to Heyman. Less than an hour later, he posted his third We Tried of the evening: “Yankees had a zoom call with Blake Snell just today. But their near total focus is on Juan Soto. Their plan Bs need to wait a bit.” This is really mixing it up. We’ve got one juicy detail to go on, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that when you really mean business, you hop on Zoom. Sure, the Yankees have a private jet, but nothing says “I really, truly want to give you hundreds of millions of dollars” like a glitchy video call. There is no better way to entice a potential employee to join your organization than by forcing them to watch via webcam as the pallid November sunlight plays off the blotchy skin beneath your eyes and your reverb-drenched voice intones the magic words: “We think you’d look great in pinstripes.” Why didn’t the Yankees just announce that they’d sent Snell a carrier pigeon?

On Friday, Andy Kostka reported that the Orioles were in on Kikuchi as well, bringing them into a tie for first place with the Red Sox. More importantly, it gave “We were in on him” a commanding lead in terms of the language used. Of the seven We Trieds, four took the form of a team being “in on” the player, while three other phrasings were tied with just one instance. With that, our update is complete, and I’ll leave you with our first leaderboards of the offseason. We will keep tracking as the offseason continues, and as always, please let us know if you see a We Tried out in the wild.

BONUS CONTENT: Last week, Johnny Damon went on the “Shut Up Marc” podcast, hosted by Marc Lewis. He talked about signing with the Yankees following the 2005 season and described how the Red Sox made him the subject of a particularly cynical We Tried:

I had four great years there and then I accepted with the Yankees, the contract… A couple days later I get a package, a DHL package from the Red Sox: four-year, $40 million contract. And it’s like, ok… So that’s kind of showing faith that they offered me a deal so that can tell to the media that, “We offered them a contract, he just didn’t take it.” So yeah, that’s how things work.

Early last year, I wrote two articles exploring the handful of pitchers who decided that, depending on the handedness of the batter they were facing, they should change not just their pitch mix but something more fundamental about themselves as pitchers. Some drastically lowered their arm angle against same-handed batters, while some scooched from one side of the rubber to the other. I mostly wrote about these pitchers because they were fun to watch, but I also dived into the reasoning behind their decisions. It wasn’t hard to understand what they were thinking: All things being equal, throwing from a lower arm angle works better against same-handed batters, while a higher arm angle works better against opposite-handed hitters. I even had numbers to back it up. I ran correlation coefficients between the pitcher’s wOBA allowed and their release point, and I used average velocity as a sort of control variable.

The correlation coefficients in this table are quite small, but they indicate that when the pitcher has the platoon advantage, vertical release point matters a whole lot. In fact, in that sample, it has the same correlation to success as velocity, which is definitely a surprise. When the batter has the platoon advantage, vertical release point doesn’t have any bearing on their success, but horizontal release point does. That’s why some pitchers scooch all the way over to the opposite side of the rubber.

Now that you’re all caught up, it’s time to address the big flaw in those numbers. The problem with my data was that I wasn’t actually using the pitcher’s arm angle. I was using their release point – literally the spot in the air above the mound where the ball leaves their hand – as a stand-in. Read the rest of this entry »

Well, the Mets really did it. On Tuesday, they finally went out and landed the electric Dominican outfielder with the big tools and the ebullient personality, the one they’d been dreaming of for so very long. Well, they landed one of the electric Dominican outfielders they’d been dreaming of, anyway.

In a one-for-one swap, the Mets received center fielder Jose Siri from the Rays in exchange for right-handed pitching prospect Eric Orze. Siri is a thrilling player with four jaw-dropping tools: power, defense, speed, and throwing. The complete absence of a hit tool leaves him kind of like a boat with the world’s greatest bilge pump and a gaping hole in the hull. He’s forever battling to mash enough moonshots and make enough improbable catches to stay afloat despite running a strikeout rate that falls somewhere between catastrophic and cataclysmic. In a move that will surprise no one who is even passingly familiar with the Rays, the team turned Siri into a pitching prospect the moment he could conceivably begin to cost them actual money. The Mets now control Siri for his three arbitration years, and MLB Trade Rumors projects him for a $2.3 million salary in 2025 (plus a luxury tax penalty). Given that the trade went down Tuesday, the Rays have probably already turned Orze into a bona fide ace.

The move could indicate something of a pattern for the Mets, who signed the glove-first Harrison Bader to a one-year contract before the 2024 season. Here’s how similar the two players are: At the time of his signing, Bader was 29 years old and had posted a career wRC+ of 90 while averaging 20 OAA per 150 games. Right now, Siri is 29 years old and has posted a career wRC+ of 89 while averaging 19.1 OAA per 150 games.

That move didn’t exactly pan out. Bader managed to avoid the injured list for the first time since 2020 and his 85 wRC+ wasn’t far below his career mark, but it wasn’t exactly the bounce-back season the Mets had hoped for. He started nearly every game against right-handed pitching, but against lefties, he went from ceding the occasional start to Tyrone Taylor at the beginning of the season to sitting more often than not by the end of it. This wasn’t ideal considering Bader has a career 109 wRC+ vs. lefties and an 84 wRC+ vs. righties. By the time the playoffs rolled around, he was the odd man out. He got into nearly all of the team’s postseason games, but started just twice and made just six plate appearances.

In all, the Mets got just 1.6 WAR in center field in 2024. That ranked 22nd in all of baseball, and it was the lowest ranking of any position on the field for the team. The only other spots on the diamond where the Mets were even in the bottom half of the league were starting pitcher, catcher, and right field. With Bader and Jesse Winker entering free agency and Taylor undergoing surgery to repair a hernia and remove a loose body from his throwing elbow, Siri is unlikely to be the last outfielder the Mets acquire this offseason.

The Athletic’s Will Sammon cited sources who reported that this wasn’t the first time the Mets had sought to get their hands Siri, and it’s not hard to see why. Siri is as tempting a project as any player in the game. He’s an incredibly gifted defensive center fielder with light tower power and absolutely no semblance of plate discipline or contact ability. The team that could get him to chase just a little bit less, to whiff just a little bit less, would have a monster on its hands. However, Siri is entering his age-29 season, and it’s hard to imagine that even the team that wanted him badly enough to risk the humiliation of trading a pitching prospect to the Rays really expects to finally unlock him. Unlike lower-back pain, plate discipline isn’t something you just happen to pick up once you hit your 30s. In 2024, Siri ran a 37.9% strikeout rate. Among players with 400 plate appearances in a season, that’s the third-highest mark in major league history. His 35.8% career strikeout rate ranks 14th on our career leaderboard, and five of the 13 players ahead of him were pitchers.

Just like Bader in Flushing, Siri started losing playing time as the 2024 season went on. Jonny DeLuca, who in 2024 featured – and stop me if you’ve heard this before – excellent speed and defense to go with some trouble getting on base, absorbed that playing time and will presumably be starting in center for the Rays next season. This time, the Mets got their solid, if flawed, center fielder on the trade market because there really aren’t any to be had in free agency. Understandably, they’re not keen to ride the Bader train again. Michael A. Taylor and Manuel Margot, the only other true center fielders on the free agent market, are both on the wrong side of 30 and coming off their own extremely down 2024 seasons. Siri’s production may look a lot like Bader’s, but he’s got a better track record when it comes to health, and because he cost a prospect rather than a free agent contract, he’ll come with a smaller luxury cap hit.

In Orze, the Rays landed a 27-year-old multi-inning reliever with a killer splitter and a modest track record of minor league success. The Mets selected him in the fifth round of the 2020 draft out of the University of New Orleans. If you’re familiar with him already, you’re either aware that he has survived two types of cancer or you’ve heard about his unfortunate major league debut. On July 8, Orze entered in the sixth inning against the Pirates and allowed a walk and two singles without recording an out. All three runners would score and he’d be tagged with the loss to go with his infinite ERA. Orze would make just one more appearance with the Mets.

Despite an unspectacular 29.7% chase rate in the minors in 2024, Orze has had excellent strikeout rates throughout his minor league career. However, those strikeouts have come hand-in-hand with dangerously high walk rates. In 2022, Eric Longenhagen ranked Orze seventh in Mets system, writing that he was a “near-ready multi-inning reliever… a super valuable piece for a contending team, and a huge draft and dev feather in the cap of the org.” Unfortunately, Orze stalled out, posting a 5.13 ERA at Triple-A Syracuse in 2022 and a 5.31 ERA there in 2023. After the ranked portion of the team’s 2024 prospect list, Eric wrote simply that Orze “has a plus-plus changeup and struggles to throw strikes.” He wasn’t wrong. Among minor leaguers with at least 75 plate appearances tracked by Statcast in 2024, Orze’s 44% zone rate put him in the just 13th percentile.

To be fair, Orze’s peripherals outpaced his ERA, especially in 2022. In 2024, he had a 2.92 ERA with a 3.65 xFIP. He looks like a classic pronator, able to make the ball run to his arm side at will. Both scouts and stuff models are in love with his splitter, and his slider should be serviceable. His four-seamer is the problem. The pitch averages a hair under 94 mph, and as you can see from Max Bay’s Dynamic Dead Zone app, its movement profile is unlikely to fool too many hitters.

See how the pink oval of the pitch’s actual shape matches up almost perfectly with the light blue ovals that indicate the shape that a batter would expect? That’s no good. If the Rays are going to turn Orze into their next star, they’ll need to help him with his command, and they’ll need to help him unlock a better fastball. Still, we’ve been doing this long enough to know that when the Rays post something like this on Bluesky, everyone should be afraid.

Last week, the Angels announced that they had signed catcher Travis d’Arnaud to a two-year deal. I was on vacation at the time and I didn’t hear about the move until later. Truthfully, I didn’t think about it too much once I did hear about it. However, I heard immediately about what happened on Sunday, and when I did my ears perked right up. Deep within a Tampa Bay Times article about the Rays’ housing crisis, Marc Topkin buried a gem: “The Rays had interest in” d’Arnaud. Why is that minor detail so consequential? Because it means that We Tried season is officially underway. For the uninitiated, We Tried is what teams sometimes tell their beat reporters after a free agent they coveted signs with another team. The beat reporters dutifully report this retrospective interest to their readers. It’s a bizarre ritual, but it’s also a lot of fun (unless you were a fan of the Mets during the Wilpon Era, in which case I apologize for not including a trigger warning at the top of this article).

Only one team gets to sign each free agent, but every team is free to announce publicly that they wanted that free agent and to do so in whatever language they choose. The Phillies were reportedly in on Yoshinobu Yamamoto. The Red Sox had interest in Kodai Senga. Topkin’s report included the tidbit that d’Arnaud didn’t sign with the Rays because he “supposedly wanted to get back to his native southern California.” Frankly, there’s no reason to limit this to baseball teams. Anybody can do it. For example, I can officially report that I was interested in Michael Wacha. Unfortunately, he decided to return to the Royals for several million dollars before I had time to make my opening offer of $35, unlimited soda from the vending machine, and two of those really big pumpkins you see at the state fair.

“Plans are real things and not experience,” wrote John Steinbeck. “A rich life is rich in plans. If they don’t come off, they are still a little bit realized.” MLB front offices agree with him. Organizations normally go to absurd lengths in order to keep their best-laid plans secret, but once those plans gang agley, they’re more than happy to make sure that the public awards partial credit for them. The move carries no real risk. These reports almost never indicate the name of the executive who made the claim, and even if the claim is untrue, the free agent in question usually has little reason to refute it.

Teams often have legitimate reasons for announcing to the world that they were in on a free agent. First of all, it might simply be the truth, and telling the truth is generally a good thing. It could be a signal to your fans or your current players that you’re really going for it and that good times are coming. It could be a signal to other free agents that you’re open for business. Unfortunately, teams also have plenty of shadier reasons. A team might just say it to make themselves appear more relevant than they really are. Sometimes it’s just a matter of feeding a reporter harmless information in order to keep greasing the skids of a transactional relationship. Sometimes teams want to make a player look bad, or to not-so-subtly intimate that the team that signed them overpaid.

There’s no limit to the number of ways to announce that you tried. You can say that you had interest in a player, that you met with them, that you had talks, that you were in on them, that you were involved, that you were close to a deal, that you couldn’t agree to terms. As the Rays did with d’Aarnaud, you can even provide a reason behind the player’s decision that conveniently absolves you of responsibility. However you couch things, the message is the same: We tried. We failed. We alerted the press because we wanted the whole world to know about our failure. That’s one particularly weird facet of this practice. How often do you hear uber-competitive front office types announce to the public at large that they tried and failed at anything? They’ll only do so when it might also mean making them look good (or making someone else look bad).

Over at Jon Becker’s indispensable Free Agent Matrices, you can find a color-coded spreadsheet that breaks down every team’s interest level in every free agent using 11 different categories. And that’s just one tab. The Matrix is – and I say this with nothing but admiration – a monument to the absurdity of the game we love and a work of absolute madness. Remember the movie Dave, when Dave calls his friend Murray into the White House to eat bratwurst and find $650 million in the federal budget? After perusing the 16 different tabs of the Matrices, I genuinely believe that Becker could balance the budget and fix the deficit in one afternoon even without the bratwurst.

So here’s what I propose: We create a We Tried Tracker. We’re going to steal Becker’s idea, but our matrix is solely for teams that announce that they tried to sign a player after the fact. Just like Becker, I’ve created a spreadsheet to keep tabs on everything. It’s simple now, but we’ll trick it out once things get going. Maybe we’ll color-code things too. Mauve could mean “We were involved.” Chartreuse could mean “We were interested, but we weren’t about to pay as much as those jabronis did.” Fuchsia could mean “We liked the cut of his jib, but the seas are rough out there and our boat is so little.”

I can’t do this alone. I’m sure I’ll miss a We Tried here or there, so I am officially asking for your help. If you see a We Tried, let me know on social media. If you don’t have social media, send me an email at WeTriedTracker@gmail.com. Yes, that’s a real email address and I will be monitoring it. Please be a part of the ridiculous thing that we are building. If and when the We Tried market really heats up, I’ll provide updates. We’ll keep a leaderboard of the teams and players that execute and incite the most We Trieds. We’ll document the different ways that teams express the sentiment. Together, we can make this offseason 10% more fun and at least 20% more stupid.

Update: Jon Becker graciously offered to fold the We Tried Tracker into the Free Agent Matrices, so the link above has been updated to take you deep into the heart of that now 17-tabbed spreadsheet.

As of 1:00 PM Eastern, Becker has yet to balance the federal budget.

Look, we’ve put it off long enough. It’s time to dig in and answer once and for all the question that everyone has been asking: We’re going to determine conclusively which catcher squishes himself into the tiniest little ball when he gets into his crouch. As you may know, catchers these days often go down on one knee or stick their whole leg out to the side in order to get lower to the ground, because getting lower helps them earn called strikes at the bottom of the zone. Those called strikes are important. What’s even more important, though, is how adorable it looks when a grown man in a suit of armor crouches down and gets all tucked into a teensy little ball like a five-year-old about to do a somersault. At long last, we’re going to do the only thing that makes sense and find out who’s best at turning their human body into a bony little sphere.

One hundred different players spent time at catcher in 2024, far too big a sample for me to investigate, so I ranked them by the number of pitches caught and looked at the top 40. I watched catchers setting up for sinkers and soft stuff at the bottom of the strike zone, where they’d be angling for a called strike and therefore trying to get themselves as low as possible. One-knee down stances were fine, but I threw out stances like the one below, where Adley Rutschman is no longer crouched in a ball. That’s the whole point of this exercise. If you’re not in a little ball, what are we even doing here? Read the rest of this entry »

Excuse us while we adjust our Top 50 Free Agents list. Coming off their first postseason appearance since 2015, the Royals have decided to keep the band together. On Sunday, the team announced that Michael Wacha has signed a three-year contract with a club option for a fourth year. Royals starters ran a 3.55 ERA in 2024, second only to the Mariners. Their 16.7 WAR trailed only the Braves. Now that Wacha is locked up long-term, Kansas City is set to return eight of the nine pitchers who started a game for the team during the 2024 season, led by ace Cole Ragans, Seth Lugo, and Wacha. The only exception is midseason acquisition Michael Lorenzen, who has entered free agency.

Wacha joined the Royals as a free agent before the 2024 season, inking a two-year, $32-million deal with a player opt-out. After running a 3.35 ERA and putting up a career-high 3.3 WAR, he was all but certain to exercise that opt-out. Instead, the 33-year-old is set to stay in Kansas City through at least 2027, his age-35 season. He’s also guaranteed to roughly double his career earnings to this point. The deal guarantees Wacha a minimum of $51 million and could be worth as much as $72 million. According to Mark Feinsand, Wacha will earn $18 million in the first two years. In 2027, he’ll have a base salary of $14 million, with performance bonuses that could push it to $18 million. If the Royals exercise their 2028 option, Wacha’s salary will feature the same 14/18 structure. If they decline the option, they’ll pay him a $1 million buyout. As Anne Rogers reported, five of the 10 largest contracts in franchise history now belong to players on the current roster. Wacha joins Lugo, Bobby Witt Jr., and Salvador Perez, who appears on the list twice thanks to two separate extensions, in that club.

The 2025 season will be the first since 2019 in which Wacha doesn’t pitch for a new team. He came up in 2013 and pitched for the Cardinals until 2019, then signed a succession of one-year deals with the Mets, Rays, and Red Sox. In 2023, Wacha signed with San Diego on a convoluted one-year deal that featured a club option for two more years (which the Padres declined), and player options for three more years (which Wacha declined). Read the rest of this entry »

Since the start of 2013, the Dodgers have been the best team in baseball. Over that 12-season span, they’ve won the National League West 11 times, made it to the NLCS seven times, and made it to the World Series four times. Their 1,215 regular season wins are 95 more than the team in second place, and their 64 postseason wins are also the most in the game. Despite all that, until late Wednesday night, they’d only managed one championship. What deserves to go down as one of the most impressive dynasties in the history of the game has been consistently denied that sort of recognition because of the delightful, infuriating unpredictability of playoff baseball. During an absolutely wild World Series Game 5, that unpredictability finally worked in the Dodgers’ favor.

This paragraph is just a list of things that happened during Game 5, so hold on tight. There was a brief no-hit bid from one starter and a disastrous, abortive start from the other. There were monster home runs, broken bat singles, seeing-eye grounders, great defensive plays, calamitous errors, inexcusable mental mistakes, a five-run inning, a five-run comeback, unearned runs, nearly catastrophic baserunning decisions, a catcher’s interference, a disengagement penalty, a surprisingly high number of sacrifice flies, a starter coming in to get the save on one-day’s rest, and, I’m absolutely certain, a bunch of other stuff that I’m too fried to remember. The only thing that didn’t happen, thankfully, was two ding dongs grabbing Mookie Betts. In the end, the Dodgers were the team left standing, securing a 7-6 victory over the Yankees at Yankee Stadium for their eighth World Series title in franchise history and the second in the past five years. Read the rest of this entry »

Let me be very clear: This doesn’t matter. What I’m about to show you is small sample size theater. It’s not statistically significant. It has no bearing on what’s actually going to happen in the World Series. We are here for a fun fact rather than a learning opportunity. Are we all in agreement? Okay, then let me show you something wild. Here are Aaron Judge’s career numbers against the Los Angeles Dodgers.

So, uh, yeah. A .389 batting average is good. A slugging percentage in the thousands is good. A wRC+ over 300 is also good. Just in case you were wondering how good those numbers are, here’s a table that shows the best career numbers against the Dodgers, minimum 40 plate appearances, courtesy of our splits leaderboard. Read the rest of this entry »