The Blue Jays came into the offseason at a crossroads. With Vladimir Guerrero Jr. and Bo Bichette headed for free agency after the 2025 season, the pressure is on: Make the playoffs or go the entirety of their team control years without a single playoff win. (They’re 0-6 in three Wild Card series.) It’s no surprise they were in on Juan Soto, and after coming up short there, they pivoted to the trade market, acquiring Andrés Giménez (and Nick Sandlin) from the Cleveland Guardians in exchange for Spencer Horwitz and Nick Mitchell. The Guardians then sent Horwitz on to the Pirates in exchange for Luis L. Ortiz, Michael Kennedy, and Josh Hartle, all of whom we’ll break down in a forthcoming post.

This trade improves the Blue Jays’ outlook for 2025, and it does so in a way that fits their recent team-building to a T. Two years ago, they added Daulton Varsho and Kevin Kiermaier, perhaps the two best defensive outfielders in baseball, and frequently played them together. They gave Santiago Espinal regular playing time when his defense graded out well, then phased him out in favor of new defensive wunderkind Ernie Clement when Espinal faltered defensively. They used Isiah Kiner-Falefa to patch defensive holes across the diamond until they traded him this past summer. Now they’re adding Giménez, one of the best infield defenders in all of baseball, to the mix.

Last season marked Giménez’s third straight Gold Glove and second straight Fielding Bible award. The voters (full disclosure: I am one of them) didn’t give it to him on reputation. He’s not just a shortstop playing second base; he’s a very good shortstop playing second base. He has the strongest throwing arm of any second baseman and uses it to his advantage, ranging up the middle to make outrageous plays. He has soft hands and quick reflexes. Statcast credits him with 37 runs above average over the past three years, tops in the majors. DRS thinks Statcast is being too modest – it credits him with 59 runs saved, 22 ahead of second place. Read the rest of this entry »

According to the Billboard Hot 100 charts, the biggest hit of Justin Bieber’s career is “Stay,” a song you either can’t get out of your head, won’t admit you can’t get out of your head, or just don’t realize you can’t get out of your head because you hear it playing everywhere — all the time — but didn’t know the title or artist. Anyway, it seems as if the not-so-subliminal messaging of one Bieber influenced the other. Shane Bieber has decided to stay (oh, ooh-woah) with the Guardians, and he’s hoping the decision proves to be just as lucrative as Justin’s song.

Bieber’s contract is essentially a one-year prove-it deal with the added security of a player option for a second year. The right-hander will earn $10 million for his age-30 season in 2025. After that, he can either exercise a $16 million option for 2026 or take a $4 million buyout and return to free agency. In other words, the player option is really only worth $12 million to Bieber, which means he surely doesn’t intend to exercise it unless things go particularly wrong. After all, he managed to net this contract halfway through his rehab from Tommy John surgery. The Guardians are prepared to pay him $14 million for half a season of work, and reportedly, that wasn’t even his highest offer. It’s safe to say he’s not picking up that option unless he suffers another injury.

So, if Bieber’s plan is to continue his rehab, rebuild his value, and cash in next offseason, it’s easy to understand why he might have taken less money to stay in Cleveland. Not only does he already have a relationship and a rehab plan with the Guardians, but this is an organization with a strong track record for helping pitchers thrive. Just look at Matthew Boyd, who came back from Tommy John this summer and turned a handful of starts with the Guardians into a two-year, $29 million deal with the Cubs. Alternatively, look at Bieber himself. The organization took a fourth-round draft pick (122nd overall) and 45-FV prospect and developed him into a Cy Young winner. It’s hardly surprising that he wants to stick with the same organization as he works his way back from a career-altering injury. The chances that he’ll ultimately receive a big, long-term deal from the Guardians are slim to none, but he’s counting on them to help him get that offer from someone else. Read the rest of this entry »

Colt Emerson has a bright future, and he is approaching it with a stay-true-to-yourself mindset. Exactly how much his identity will evolve is the question. Seventeen months removed from being selected 22nd overall in the 2023 draft by the Seattle Mariners out of New Concord, Ohio’s John Glenn High School, the left-handed-hitting shortstop is just 19 years old, with all of 94 professional games under his belt. He has plenty of room to grow, with his below-average raw power being part of that equation.

Emerson recognizes that what he is today isn’t necessarily what he’ll be in the future. At the same time, he doesn’t anticipate changing too much.

“I think I have a good feel for the type of player I am,” the 6-foot-1, 195-pound infielder told me during the Arizona Fall League season, where he slashed a lusty .370/.436/.547. “But I’m also not physically mature yet. I have more strength to put on, and as I keep growing into it, hitting the same way is going to be crucial for me. Getting stronger and being able to put balls over the fence more easily doesn’t mean that I need to try to hit more home runs. They’re going to come, just doing what I do.”

What Emerson currently does is hit line drives with a swing that our lead prospect analyst Eric Longenhagen has described as “aesthetically pleasing.” Generated by “lightning quick hands,“ it produced a .263/.393/.376 with for home runs and a 119 wRC+ over 332 plate appearances between Low-A Modesto and High-A Everett. One of the youngest players at each level, he missed time in April with an oblique issue, and in mid-season he was out for a month-plus due to a fractured foot. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2025 Hall of Fame ballot. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

When it comes to a 6-foot-6 power pitcher with a weight on par with an NFL offensive lineman, everything can seem outsized. Such was the case with CC Sabathia, who reached the majors as a fireballing 20-year-old lefty, refined his craft, and shouldered significant workloads while evolving into one of the game’s true aces. Over the course of a 19-year career (2001–19) with Cleveland, the Brewers, and the Yankees, Sabathia helped his teams reach the playoffs 11 times, made six All-Star teams, won a Cy Young award and a World Series ring, signed a record-setting contract, and reached milestones that may be unattainable for those following in his considerable footsteps.

Such stature doesn’t make even the most large-hearted person invulnerable, however. While at the height of his considerable success, Sabathia carried a huge secret: alcoholism. As he later explained through his own accounts, interviews, and a 2021 HBO documentary, from the time he was 14 years old, Sabathia was prone to binge drinking. He used alcohol to dull the pain and anger caused by the absence of his father, who dropped out of his life while he was in high school, re-emerged early in his professional career, and died prematurely in 2003. The pressure of living up to his seven-year, $161 million contract with the Yankees only exacerbated his problem, particularly as wear-and-tear injuries sapped his performance. Finally, in October 2015, with the Yankees about to play in the AL Wild Card Game, Sabathia sought help, entering a rehabilitation program and soon going public with his alcoholism as a way of holding himself accountable. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2024 Hall of Fame ballot. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

For the past few election cycles, as a means of completing my coverage of the major candidates before the December 31 voting deadline, I’ve been grouping together some candidates into a single overview, inviting readers wishing to (re)familiarize themselves with the specifics of their cases to check out older profiles that don’t require a full re-working, because very little has changed, even with regards to their voting shares. Today, I offer the first such batch for this cycle, a pair of elite hitters who would already be enshrined if not for their links to performance-enhancing drugs: Manny Ramirez and Alex Rodriguez.

Like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, both sluggers have transgressions that predate the introduction of drug testing and penalties in 2004. Via The New York Times (Ramirez) and Sports Illustrated (Rodriguez), both reportedly failed the supposedly anonymous 2003 survey test that determined whether such testing would be introduced. Had they not pressed their luck further, both might already be in Cooperstown alongside 2022 honoree David Ortiz, who also reportedly failed the survey test. Alas, Ramirez was actually suspended twice, in 2009 and ’11; the latter ended his major league career, though he traveled the globe making comeback attempts. Rodriguez was suspended only once, but it was for the entire 2014 season due to his involvement in the Biogenesis scandal and his scorched-earth attempt to evade punishment — a sequence of events unparalleled among baseball’s PED-linked players.

As I’ve noted more times than I can count over the past decade and a half, my own policy with regards to such candidates is to differentiate between pre-2004 transgressions and the rest; while I included the likes of Bonds, Clemens, Gary Sheffield, and Sammy Sosa on my virtual and actual ballots, I have yet to do so for any player who earned a suspension for PEDs, including this pair — two players who at their best were a thrill to watch, but who also did some of the most cringeworthy stuff of any players in their era. They and the other suspended players were well aware of the consequences for crossing the line, yet did so anyway. While this personal policy began as a ballot-management tool at a time when I felt more than 10 candidates were worthy of a vote, I’ve found it to be a reasonable midpoint between total agnosticism on the subject and a complete hard-line stance. My sympathies tend more towards the former group — those who refuse to play cop for MLB and the Hall, reasoning such players have not been declared ineligible à la Pete Rose — than the latter, but I respect both positions.

Anyway, Ramirez debuted with 23.8% on the 2017 ballot, didn’t surpass that mark until ’20 (28.2%), didn’t top 30% until ’23 (33.2%), and fell back a fraction of a point on the ’24 ballot (32.5%). That’s eight years to gain less than 10 percentage points, meaning that he’ll fall off the ballot after his 10th year (the 2026 ballot).

Rodriguez debuted with 34.3% in 2022, barely inched up in ’23 (35.7%), and receded slightly in ’24 (34.8%). Given that Bonds and Clemens topped out in the 65–66% range in 2022 and then were passed over by the Contemporary Baseball Era Committee the following year, nobody should be holding their breaths for either of these two to get elected anytime soon, though it will be awhile before we stop hearing about them. Read the rest of this entry »

The Cleveland Guardians are a pretty tightfisted organization. They spend infrequently, frugally, and deliberately. So I was amused when, some three weeks ago, they jumped to re-sign backup catcher Austin Hedges to a one-year, $4 million contract. That’s roughly 4% of what the Guardians spent on player payroll in total this past season — and on a backup catcher?

Now, Hedges is one of the league’s best defenders, at the position where defense is of the utmost performance. And by all accounts he’s the best clubhouse guy since Spanky from The Little Rascals. But he’s the worst hitter in the league. That’s not an exaggeration; Hedges hasn’t posted a wRC+ over 50 since 2018, and in his past two seasons he hasn’t broken 25.

Since 2019, Hedges is hitting .171/.234/.273. Of the 364 players who have taken 1,000 or more plate appearances over that time, Hedges is dead last in wRC+ by a huge margin. Jackie Bradley Jr. is in second-to-last place with a wRC+ of 67; Hedges is at 39. (Which speaks to how far you can get in baseball if you’re an elite defender and everyone likes you.) Read the rest of this entry »

Let’s play a little guessing game. See if you can identify the pitchers who produced the two seasons below.

Got your guesses ready? Awesome. The answer is… after the break. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of a series concerning the 2025 Classic Baseball Era Committee ballot, covering long-retired players, managers, executives, and umpires whose candidacies will be voted upon on December 8. For an introduction to the ballot, see here, and for an introduction to JAWS, see here. Several profiles in this series are adapted from work previously published at SI.com, Baseball Prospectus, and Futility Infielder. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

Even in an era brimming with colorful characters and exceptional hurlers, Luis Tiant stood out. The barrel-chested, mustachioed Cuban righty combined an assortment of exaggerated deliveries with a variety of arm angles and speeds that baffled hitters — and tantalized writers — over the course of a 19-year major league career (1964–82) and an affiliation with the game in one capacity or another that extended through the remainder of his life. “The Cuban Dervish,” as Sports Illustrated’s Ron Fimrite christened him in 1975, died on October 8 at the age of 83. No cause of death was announced.

The son of a legendary Negro Leagues and Latin American baseball star colloquially known as Luis Tiant Sr. — a skinny lefty, in contrast with the burly physique of his right-handed son — the younger Tiant was exiled from his home country in the wake of Cuban prime minister Fidel Castro’s travel restrictions, and separated from his family for 14 years. Against that backdrop of isolation, “El Tiante” went on to become the winningest Cuban-born pitcher in major league history, and to emerge as a larger-than-life character, so inseparable from his trademark cigars that he chomped them even in postgame showers. On the mound, he was a master craftsman whose repertoire of four basic pitches (fastball, curve, slider, and changeup) combined with three angles (over-the-top, three-quarters, and sidearm) and six different speeds for the curve and change yielded 20 distinct offerings according to catcher Carlton Fisk.

I covered Tiant’s life at length — and I mean length — here at FanGraphs shortly after he passed. Now that he’s a candidate on the Classic Baseball Era Committee ballot, I invite you to (re)read that profile for the biographical details of the man’s fascinating life and career, which began with Cleveland (1964–69), and included stops with the Twins (1970), Red Sox (1971–78), Yankees (1979–80), Pirates (1981), and Angels (1982). I’m devoting this space to a more thorough review of his case and quest for Cooperstown in the context of this ballot, particularly as he’s competing for votes with one of his former teammates and contemporaries, Tommy John.

…

Tiant finished his career with a collection of accolades that at first glance looks a little light for a Hall of Famer. He won two ERA titles, posting a 1.60 mark in 1968, the Year of the Pitcher, and a 1.91 mark in ’72, when after a three-season odyssey of injuries, different uniforms, and diminished effectiveness he worked his way from the bullpen to the rotation and became a Boston folk hero. While he additionally led his league in shutouts three times, he doesn’t have much additional black ink when it comes to traditional stats. He made just three All-Star teams and never won a Cy Young award, topping out with a fourth-place finish in 1974, as well as fifth- and sixth-place finishes. That’s a little misleading, however. In 1968, he accompanied that 1.60 ERA with a 21-9 record in 258 1/3 innings, but that year Denny McLain became the first pitcher in 34 years to top 30 wins, going 31-6 with a 1.96 ERA in 336 innings. It was only the year before that the Cy Young had been split into separate awards for each league, and voters could submit only one name; not until 1970 would they be allowed to submit a top three. McLain won unanimously, but it’s quite possible that Tiant would have finished second if voters had been allowed larger ballots; in the MVP voting, he tied for fifth with the Orioles’ Dave McNally (22-10, 1.95 ERA in 273 innings), with McLain (who won both MVP and Cy Young) the only pitcher above them.

As it is, Tiant scores a modest 97 on Bill James’ Hall of Fame Monitor, which measures how likely (but not how deserving) a player is to be elected by awarding points for various honors, league leads, postseason performance and so on — the things that tend to catch voters’ eyes. A score of 100 is “a good possibility,” while 130 suggests “a virtual cinch.”

Speaking of the postseason, Tiant was very good within a limited footprint, going 3-0 with a 2.86 ERA in 34 2/3 innings. The fractional two-thirds of an inning came in mopup duty with the Twins in 1970, the rest in ’75 with the Red Sox. He threw a complete-game three-hitter with just an unearned run allowed in the ALCS opener against the A’s; a Game 1 shutout against the Reds in the World Series; a four-run, 155-pitch complete game on three days of rest in Game 4 — a start that’s the stuff of legends; and then a valiant seven-inning, six-run effort in Game 6, when he faltered late but was saved by Carlton Fisk’s famous 12th-inning homer. Had the Red Sox won Game 7, this “hero of unmatched emotional majesty” (as Peter Gammons called him) might well have been the World Series MVP.

Whether or not Tiant’s basic numbers scan as Hall-worthy depends somewhat upon the era to which you’re comparing them. Pitcher wins are an imperfect stat to begin with for reasons statheads have spent the past 40-plus years explaining, but historically they’ve remained foremost in the minds of Hall voters, and so I think the following is at least somewhat instructive. Of the 53 pitchers who have collected somewhere between 210 and 249 career wins, just 15 are in the Hall, nine of whom began their major league careers before 1920. None debuted during the 1921–49 stretch; of the other six, four arrived in the 1950–65 range, namely Whitey Ford (236 wins, debuted 1950), Jim Bunning (224 wins, debuted 1955), Juan Marichal (243 wins, debuted 1960), and Catfish Hunter (224 wins, debuted 1965). The other two reached the majors over two decades later, namely John Smoltz (213 wins, debuted 1988) and Pedro Martinez (219 wins, debuted 1992).

Meanwhile, of the 38 pitchers in that 210–249 win range who aren’t enshrined, 11 debuted prior to 1920, six more in the 1921–49 period unrepresented within the first group, three in the 1950–65 range (Mickey Lolich, Jim Perry, and Tiant), 11 in the 1966–87 span, and then eight from ’88 onward, including three still active or not yet eligible (Zack Greinke, Clayton Kershaw, and Max Scherzer). If we set aside the pre-1950 group and the ones not yet eligible, that’s six out of 24 pitchers in this range who are in the Hall versus 18 outside. While none of the outsiders won a Cy Young, neither did Bunning or Marichal. Run prevention-wise, Hunter is the only Hall of Famer from this group with a lower ERA+ (104) than Tiant (114). Even so, Mark Buehrle, Tim Hudson, Kevin Brown, and Curt Schilling are all outside with an ERA+ in the 117-127 range.

Viewed from this vantage, it shouldn’t be surprising that Tiant didn’t get elected. But when he first became eligible, on the 1988 BBWAA ballot, he had reason for optimism given that Hunter — statistically the most like Tiant as expressed by his Similarity Score (another James creation) — had been elected just the previous year with a comparable win-loss record and ERA (224-166, 3.26 ERA) to Tiant’s marks of 229-172 and 3.30. The second-most similar pitcher to Tiant by that method, Bunning (224-184, 3.27 ERA), had received 70% on that same ballot. While slugger Willie Stargell was the only candidate elected via the 1988 ballot, Tiant received 30.9%, far short election but a debut hardly without promise; meanwhile, Bunning inched up to 74.2%.

Alas, both pitchers got lost in the shuffle on the 1989 ballot. Not only did Johnny Bench and Carl Yastrzemski both debut and gain easy entry with vote shares in the mid-90s, but Gaylord Perry and Fergie Jenkins also debuted, both with more robust résumés than either Tiant or Bunning in terms of statistics and honors. Both were former Cy Young winners with more than 3,000 strikeouts, with Perry owning a second Cy Young and membership in the 300-win club as well. Bunning fell back to 63.3%, while Tiant slipped to 10.5%.

First-year candidate Jim Palmer, a three-time Cy Young winner, jumped the line to gain entry in 1990, as Bunning slid to 57.9% and Tiant to 9.5%. When Jenkins and Perry were elected in 1991, Bunning aged off the ballot (he would be elected by the Veterans Committee in ’96), while Tiant sank even further, to 7.2%. He had missed his window; after Jenkins’ election, it would take until 2011 for another starter with fewer than 300 wins (Bert Blyleven) to gain entry via the writers. As “That Seventies Group” reshaped expectations for Hall starters’ credentials, Tiant never even climbed back to 20%, topping out at 18% in 2002, his final year on the ballot.

Tiant’s candidacy has fared similarly amid ever-changing ballot formats since then. In three appearances on the Veterans Committee ballots (2005, ’07, ’09), he maxed out at 25%. He’s now on his fourth appearance on an Era Committee ballot. He was considered alongside the likes of future Hall of Famers Kaat, Ron Santo, Gil Hodges, Minnie Miñoso, and Tony Oliva, plus this ballot’s Ken Boyer as part of the 2012 Golden Era Committee ballot, for candidates who made their greatest impact on the game during the 1947–72 period, as well as a similar cast that also included this ballot’s Dick Allen three years later. In both cases, he fell short of the level of support needed to have his actual vote total announced; customarily, the Hall lumps together all of the candidates below a certain (varying) threshold as “receiving fewer than x” votes to avoid embarrassing them (or their descendants) with the news of a shutout. When the Hall reconfigured the Era Committee system in 2016, Tiant wound up classified within the Modern Baseball Era (1970–87); after finishing below the threshold for vote totals on the 2018 ballot, he was bypassed for the ’20 one, a ballot that finally gave Dwight Evans and Lou Whitaker their first shots.

As you can see from the table above, Tiant’s Hall of Fame Monitor score (HOFM) is the lowest of the group, but he fares better via advanced metrics. He ranked in his league’s top 10 in WAR eight times, leading in 1968 (8.5) and finishing fourth in both ’72 and ’74. While he cracked the top 10 in ERA just four times, he did so in ERA+ seven times (including the two league leads), a reminder that toiling in hitter-friendly Fenway Park may have cost him some recognition. While he’s on the lower side of That Seventies Group in terms of S-JAWS, the adjusted version of my Hall fitness metric that tones down the impact of high-volume innings totals from earlier eras, his ranking is still impressive. The newer version jumps him from 59th overall to tied for 42nd with Palmer and Smoltz, two pitchers generally considered no-doubt Hall of Famers; meanwhile, he’s 45th in both career WAR and in adjusted peak. Voters won’t see another candidate above those rankings until Kershaw and friends (a quartet that also includes Justin Verlander) become eligible.

In introducing S-JAWS, I noted that Tiant is below the standard — the mean of all enshrined starters — but basically at the median (53.6). While he doesn’t particularly stand out next to a cohort of 300-game winners, he’s got much stronger advanced stats than Hunter (who nonetheless had a Cy Young and five championships going for him) and Kaat (a Cy Young winner but a compiler whose lengthy broadcast career helped his 2022 Era Committee election). His S-JAWS equals or surpasses some other enshrinees whose careers overlapped, such as Don Drysdale (53.7), Marichal (53.2), Bunning (51.4), Ford (45.5), Sandy Koufax (44.2), and Jack Morris (37.4), but those pitchers all have higher Monitor scores, with Bunning (98) the only other one below 100. The enshrined starters he outranks in S-JAWS mostly had shorter careers in earlier eras, where innings totals were higher and runs even more scarce.

I’ve wavered on Tiant, mainly in light of older versions of JAWS and in direct comparison to his Era Committee competition, because even beyond the numbers his case hasn’t always jumped out. On my virtual 2018 Modern Baseball ballot, I tabbed Marvin Miller, Alan Trammell, and Ted Simmons, but left my fourth slot empty because I didn’t see any of the other seven candidates (Tiant, John, Morris, Steve Garvey, Don Mattingly, Dale Murphy, and Dave Parker) as strong enough. Morris was elected, but Tiant is by far the strongest of that group by JAWS if not more traditional reckonings. If I had a do-over, factoring in his cultural importance as one of the most high-profile Cuban player success stories, from battling racism in the minors after being cut off from his family to his mid-career comeback and emergence as a folk hero, I’d consider him more strongly — but including him on that ballot would have hinged upon how much extra weight to give John for his own comeback after the pioneering elbow surgery that bears his name.

I’m still wrestling with Tiant versus John on this ballot. Tiant — who pitched in the same rotation with John in Cleveland, New York, and Anaheim — is squarely ahead on a performance basis, and in a vacuum I think he’s Hall-worthy; I’m pretty solidly in favor of any post-integration pitcher with an S-JAWS of 50 or higher. What I’m less sure of is whether Tiant will emerge as one of my top three on my virtual ballot, or whether Hall voters’ unfortunate history of waiting until after a candidate’s death to recognize them — see Santo, Miñoso, and Allen for just the latest in the litany — suggests that I should put aside my soft resistance to the 81-year-old John and prioritize voting for him while he’s still around to appreciate the honor. With three more candidates to evaluate, I have a bit longer to think about it.

The following article is part of a series concerning the 2025 Classic Baseball Era Committee ballot, covering long-retired players, managers, executives, and umpires whose candidacies will be voted upon on December 8. For an introduction to the ballot, see here, and for an introduction to JAWS, see here. Several profiles in this series are adapted from work previously published at SI.com, Baseball Prospectus, and Futility Infielder. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

Tommy John spent 26 seasons pitching in the majors from 1963–74 and then 1976–89, more than any player besides Nolan Ryan, but his level of fame stems as much from the year that cleaves that span as it does from his work on the mound. As the recipient of the most famous sports medicine procedure of all time, the elbow ligament replacement surgery performed by Dr. Frank Jobe in late 1974 that now bears his name, John endured an arduous year-long rehab process before returning to pitch as well as ever, a recovery that gave hope to generations of injured pitchers whose careers might otherwise have ended. Tommy John surgery has somewhat obscured the pitcher’s on-field accomplishments, however.

A sinkerballer who relied upon his command and control to limit hard contact, John didn’t overpower hitters; after his surgery, when the usage of radar guns became more widespread, his sinker — which he threw 85-90% of the time — was generally clocked in the 85-87 mph range. He paired the sinker with a curveball, or rather several curves, as he could adjust the break based upon the speed at which he threw the pitch. He was the epitome of the “crafty lefty,” so good at his vocation that he arrived on the major league scene at age 20 and made his final appearance three days after his 46th birthday. He made four All-Star teams and was a key starter on five clubs that reached the postseason and three that won pennants, though he wound up on the losing end of the World Series each time.

Thomas Edward John Jr. was born on May 22, 1943 in Terre Haute, Indiana. He cut his teeth playing sandlot ball and more organized games at Spencer F. Ball Park, a three-block square with about 10 baseball diamonds used for everything from pickup games to those of two rival high schools, Garfield and Gerstmeyer, the latter of which he attended.

At Gerstmeyer, John excelled in basketball as well as baseball, so much so that the rangy, 6-foot-3 teenager was recruited by legendary Kentucky coach Adolph Rupp, and had over 50 basketball scholarship offers but just one for baseball (few colleges gave those out in those days). When Rupp paid a visit to their household, the senior John told the coach that his son was probably going to bypass college to pursue professional baseball. As the pitcher recalled in 2015:

Rupp said, “Well, we have a pretty good baseball team down in Kentucky, and your son might even be able to make our team.” My dad never liked Rupp, but that really made him mad. He told Coach Rupp, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Rupp was furious. His assistant came in and tried to smooth things over, but it didn’t matter.

On the mound, John lacked a top-notch fastball but had a major league-caliber curveball that he learned from former Phillies minor leaguer Arley Andrews, a friend of his father. He pitched to a 28-2 record in high school, and while the Cleveland Indians scout who signed him, John Schulte, expressed concern about his inability to overpower hitters, he signed him nonetheless two weeks after John graduated from Gerstmeyer in 1961 — four years before the introduction of the amateur draft. Read the rest of this entry »

When I talked to him at last year’s GM meetings, J.J. Picollo told me that an offseason priority was to add “guys with experience” to a Kansas City Royals roster that was long on promising young talent but short on veteran presence. Picollo did just that — Seth Lugo, Hunter Renfroe, Will Smith, and Michael Wacha were among those brought on board — and while the additions only told part of the story, the end result was a best seller. One year after winning just 56 games, the 2024 Royals went 86-76 and played October baseball for the first time in a decade.

What does the AL Central club’s Executive Vice President/General Manager see as the top priority going into next season?

“We need to be a little more dynamic offensively, and by that I mean we need to get on base at a higher rate than we did this year,” Picollo told me earlier this week in San Antonio. “We’re trying to target players we can lengthen out our lineup with, whether it’s someone at the top, in the middle, or toward the back end. Our identity is more pitching and defense, base running, and situational hitting, so how can we add some guys that can complement what we already have that will allow us to score more runs?”

The Royals crossed the plate 735 times in 2024, the sixth-highest total in the American League. Their .306 on-base percentage was ninth-highest, while their .403 slugging percentage and their 170 home runs ranked sixth and tenth respectively. As power obviously helps provide more runs, I asked Picollo if OBP is indeed the priority. Read the rest of this entry »