Late in the 2014 season, the Red Sox wrote a check worth $72.5 million and handed it to a stranger. The organization had barely missed out on prized Cuban first baseman Jose Abreu less than a year earlier, and they ensured they wouldn’t be topped in the international market again by giving Rusney Castillo the largest-ever deal to a Cuban defector. Castillo wasn’t a complete stranger, of course. They’d seen him play plenty of baseball, they’d met him in person; he was no more a stranger than any other international free agent coming to America. But with Abreu, there was the kind of raw power that can’t be ignored. With guys like Yoenis Cespedes and especially Yasiel Puig, the tools were off the charts. Undeniable freak athleticism.
With Castillo, the figures of the contract could be difficult to see through a thick layer of foggy uncertainty. The upside and athleticism were there, of course. Even the Red Sox don’t hand out seven years and $72.5 million without upside and athleticism. But there wasn’t the Abreu power. There weren’t the Cespedes and Puig tools. Instead, there were concerns of a swing deficiency, and “fourth outfielder” labels, and comparisons to Rajai Davis and Shane Victorino. It was uncertain what the Red Sox new Cuban investment might be, as is the case for any Cuban investment. It’s just that, with Castillo, the comps weren’t as rosy, especially in contrast of the instant success stories of Abreu, Cespedes, and Puig.
Which brings us to the present. Here we are, more than a year later, with Castillo having played in parts of two seasons, and the thick fog of uncertainty still looms, and now it’s shading our view of the Green Monster, locked into a place in left field on Opening Day for a team with hopes of contention and little in the way of a viable, everyday backup plan in the event that the fog happens to grow thicker, and darker.
What can we make of Rusney Castillo? What’s gone right? What’s gone wrong? Where are the points of optimism, pessimism?
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