The Seven Pitches of Seth Lugo

First things first, I need you to divorce yourself from the notion of marrying strictly for love. Because that’s not how it worked for Evelyn Hugo.

Oh wait. That’s right, some of you probably don’t know who Evelyn Hugo is. Imagine Elizabeth Taylor, Rita Hayworth, and Ava Gardener all rolled into one, and now, in her twilight years, she’s sitting for a longform, tell-all interview spanning her entire career — every marriage, every movie, every divorce. That’s the premise of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, a novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid.

None of Hugo’s marriages are fairytale romances. For her, they entail more practical considerations. Sometimes love is a factor, but it’s never the sole focus, and rarely the primary concern. Nevertheless, each marriage plays a distinct role in Hugo’s story, in the creation of her final, self-actualized form.

And just as each husband shaped Hugo’s character, each offering in a pitcher’s arsenal shapes his identity on the mound. Some pitchers find success with just one pitch type. But those not blessed with Mariano Rivera’s cutter usually need at least two pitches, and for most, the number sits somewhere in the three to five range.

For Seth Lugo, it’s seven.

OK, it’s technically more than seven, but if I were writing a biography of Lugo framed around each of the pitches he throws (and I kind of am), I’d merge a few of those pitch types together. Because functionally, they’re doing the same thing, and they’re not distinct enough to merit their own subplot.

But first, a more macro look at Lugo’s season so far. Through four starts comprising 24 1/3 innings, Lugo has pitched to a 1.48 ERA and a 2.17 FIP. Those numbers are impressive, but they come with several early-season caveats. One of those starts was against the White Sox, who rank dead last in wRC+ so far in 2026, but the others were against the Braves, Brewers, and Tigers, who respectively rank third, seventh, and 15th in wRC+. More troubling is the way his actual numbers compare to his expected stats. His xERA sits at 3.76 and his xFIP at 3.37.

The dramatic difference in xFIP relative to FIP is easily understood, since xFIP is just swapping out the pitcher’s actual HR/FB rate with the league average number to smooth out the effects of batted ball luck. Lugo has yet to allow a home run this year, but xFIP figures around 12% of his fly balls allowed should have left the ballpark, adding a few more earned runs to his ledger.

To get a pitcher’s xERA requires converting his xwOBA allowed to the ERA scale. Lugo’s xwOBA is .309, while his actual wOBA is .249. Since xwOBA is estimating typical outcomes based on the batted ball’s exit velocity and launch angle, it should come as no surprise that Lugo’s hard-hit rate and average launch angle are both above the league’s average.

It’s not unusual for Lugo to outperform his xwOBA, but usually the difference is 20 to 30 points, not 60. Lugo has almost certainly benefitted from some batted ball luck, but he’s not running an absurdly low BABIP; his .277 mark is pretty well in line with his recent seasons. And on the topic of batted balls, another potential contributing factor to the difference between his wOBA and xwOBA is spray angle, which is not included in the xwOBA calculation. Lugo has established an ability to induce pull-side groundballs at an above average rate (24.6%), and he pitches in front of a top-five infield defense by FRV.

Lugo also made some offseason adjustments that might further explain why he’s outpitching his peripherals by a wider margin than in the past. Early this spring, Lugo declared his intent to re-emphasize his fastballs after getting a bit too infatuated with his breaking pitches last year. He specifically called out wanting to increase usage and fine-tune his command. So far, his fastball usage is up to 53% compared to 50% in 2025, and the location grades coming out of the various pitch models are much improved for his four-seamer and cutter (his sinker location grades have held pretty steady in recent years).

Additionally, he re-worked his slider grip over the winter. This year’s version of the pitch is a couple ticks harder with more downward bite — a movement profile with a more distinct finish relative to his other pitches. He’s also getting more arm-side break on his fastballs and changeup, with more rise on his four-seamer and cutter, making those pitches all the more effective as complements to the glove-side movement and diving action on his breaking pitches. More movement isn’t necessarily an automatic upgrade, but the results suggest that whatever he’s doing is effectively keeping hitters off-balance.

In defense of the hitters, Lugo gives them a complicated set of variables to consider during the small window of time allotted for a swing decision. He’s got seven(ish) pitches to his name, and they all make an essential contribution to who he is as a pitcher.

So let’s get to those individual pitch types, Lugo’s relationships with them, how they shape his character arc as pitcher, and how they mirror the marriages of a fictional actress. We’ll work through Hugo’s marriages (using the chapter titles assigned to them in the book) and their pitch type analogs in chronological order.

The Curveball: “Poor Ernie Diaz”
Hugo married Diaz in order to work through a specific set of circumstances and secure a very specific outcome. She was a teenager living in Hell’s Kitchen in the 1950s, hoping to relocate to Hollywood and pursue a career in acting.

Lugo’s Hell’s-Kitchen-to-Hollywood analog is finding himself even or ahead in the count, hoping to get the batter to chase a pitch outside the zone. In the novel, Hugo convinces Diaz to chase her. She hitches a ride with him to Los Angeles, and as soon as she latches on with a studio, she divorces him. He served his purpose, but now she finds herself in a new set of circumstances with a new set of needs. Diaz did exactly what she needed him to do, but he wasn’t useful in many other situations.

Lugo’s curveball is great for inducing whiffs and weak contact; it disguises itself as a fastball by mirroring the spin of his four-seamer and sinker, then diving off course. In other situations, the curveball is less useful. It shouldn’t be relied upon to land in the zone when behind in the count.

The Four-Seam Fastball: “Goddamn Don Adler”
It goes without saying that not every pitch Lugo currently throws has been in the mix for his entire career, but certain pitches, like a fastball, must be established early on. The fastball plays a key role in any pitcher’s arsenal, but like many of his peers, Lugo spreads that responsibility across multiple varieties. But regardless of which fastball(s) a pitcher winds up featuring as a professional, almost all of them start with a four-seamer. The way most pitchers draw it up, the plan is to develop a four-seamer with a strong combination of velocity and movement to overpower hitters, and then they can move on from the fastball and be about the work crafting their secondary offerings.

Hugo thought her marriage to Adler — a hunky, A-List actor — would offer the right combination of love and marketing potential to turboboost her career. But Adler turned out to be physically and emotionally abusive. Meanwhile, Lugo’s four-seam fastball isn’t exactly a dreamboat either. It sits just below 92 mph with below-average stuff. He does locate the pitch well, and location is important. By locating herself next to Adler (both in a movie and in her personal life), Hugo was able to land her first serious role — the one she thought might win her an Oscar. It didn’t. Lugo probably hoped his four-seamer would carry him through starts and perhaps land him a Cy Young award one day. But it didn’t, and it won’t. At least not on its own.

But even pitchers disappointed by their fastball don’t abandon the pitch completely. They figure out a way to have a functional relationship. Adler, like a fastball, was a key component of Hugo’s success to that point. Meaning, she couldn’t divorce him right away. She had to make it work for a while and craft a graceful exit strategy. Lugo had to stick with his four-seamer, eventually bringing in other supporting characters and limiting its usage. After their divorce, Hugo still occasionally called upon Adler for help. She never completely stopped needing him. Nor has Lugo stopped calling upon his four-seamer. He still needs it, but he’s not as dependent on it for success as some other pitchers are on their four-seamers.

The Slider: “Gullible Mick Riva”
Lugo’s slider splits the difference between his fastballs and his other breaking pitches, both in terms of velocity and movement. It’s there to distract and confuse. It tricks batters into a fair number of whiffs, but unfortunately, it also lends itself to a decent amount of good wood if it’s not sufficiently deceptive.

Hugo eloped with Riva to draw attention away from the (accurate) rumors that she was dating a female co-star. She needed to trick both Riva and the public into believing she wanted to do one thing, when actually she was doing something (and someone) else the entire time. It was a high-risk/high-reward scheme. If it worked, she could go back to dating the woman she loved in private, but there were any number of things that could have gone awry. When Lugo throws his slider, he’s hoping to keep the hitter guessing, but in the process, he gives up a lot of hard contact. So far this season, hitters are slugging just .200 against the pitch, but his expected slugging percentage, the one that factors in exit velocity and launch angle, sits at 1.025. A pitch with that kind of boom potential should probably only be thrown while wearing a hazmat suit. Lugo has avoided any serious explosions thus far, and for a while, it looked like Hugo had done the same in her scheme with Riva. Then it came to light that she was pregnant with Riva’s baby. But that’s the risk of throwing a slider: If you hang it, someone might just bang it.

The Slurve: “Clever Rex North”
No pitcher goes straight to a slurve when developing their breaking pitches. They’ll try a curveball, then a slider, or maybe the slider first and then the curve. The order doesn’t really matter — the point is they’ll try at least one of the two (usually both) before dabbling with the more experimental hybrids and offshoots. Lugo has thrown both a curveball and a slider throughout his tenure in the majors. In 2023, he added a slurve and a sweeper (which I’m combining for the purposes of this discussion, since they’re both serving roughly the same function) to give hitters a slightly different look. He needed something that could compensate for his curveball’s lack of versatility and also contribute to an illusion without the volatility of his slider.

In the wake of two divorces and an annulment, Hugo found herself in need of an illusion as well. She was never going to achieve a wholesome, girl-next-door persona, but her reputation had taken enough of a hit that she needed to do something to regain broad appeal. She needed to dilute the negative sentiments enough to create uncertainty among those who held unflattering opinions of her. That’s why her marriage to North was a pure PR stunt. It wasn’t something anyone would attempt with their first trip down the aisle, just like no one opts for a slurve as their first attempt at a breaking ball. Hugo had already used wedding vows to rehab her image once, but it didn’t solve the entire problem. She needed to work from a slightly different angle, apply a slightly different spin. So she threw the public a slurve.

Her marriage to North gave Hugo a (mostly) scandal-free relationship she could point to as evidence that she was capable of such a thing. It was something else for the public to contend with as they tried to figure out what exactly her whole deal was. Lugo’s slurve and sweeper give hitters something else to contend with as they try to figure out his plan of attack. He can locate them in the zone more reliably than his curveball, making both pitches an early-count option, and though neither is a big swing-and-miss pitch, they don’t tend to allow as much damage on contact when compared to Lugo’s slider. The North role in a pitcher’s arsenal is more about opening up other avenues for success than achieving any great success for itself. The slurve and the sweeper exist mostly to make Lugo’s other pitches more successful, just like how Hugo married North to make way for greater success as an actress.

The Sinker: “Brilliant, Kindhearted, Tortured Harry Cameron”
After years spent getting her fill of manipulating spin, Hugo returned home to the comfort of a fastball. But not the traditional four-seamer this time. After all, she had tried that already. It didn’t go well. This time she opted for a slightly quirkier fastball.

The marriages that get the fastball comp are the ones where love actually is a prominent feature. It’s well established that Hugo’s marriages didn’t require love to make an important contribution to her final form, but the ones that did have some amount of it were naturally going to play a more foundational role, much like the part the fastball plays in pitcher’s arsenal. Hugo loved Cameron, but only platonically. That’s what makes this marriage an analog for the quirky, less traditional fastball. But a sinker is still a fastball, so it’s not really that quirky, and neither is the notion of queer folks acting as one another’s beards. Which was the exact dynamic between Cameron and Hugo. Nevertheless, her marriage to Cameron was one of her longest and most stable relationships. Not unlike the one between a pitcher and his fastball.

When comparing Lugo’s sinker to his four-seamer, it’s the more even performer. It gets fewer whiffs, but it also allows less damage. The four-seamer’s higher stuff grades mean it also has a higher ceiling for success, just as Hugo’s romantic love for Adler unlocked more potential for that relationship. But there’s something to be said for a relationship — and a pitch — that reliably meets expectations, even if those expectations are set lower from the beginning.

The Cutter: “Disappointing Max Girard”
Another fastball means the Girard marriage bore some semblance of love as well. Now over 40, Girard was Hugo’s last ditch attempt at a marriage that might work for her both personally and professionally. Though this marriage represented Hugo finally revisiting her most idealized notion of marriage, it wasn’t her going back and trying to perfect a version of her four-seamer; it was her taking stock of her life and thinking, “Well, nothing else has quite worked out how I envisioned it. Maybe I’ll try a cutter.”

Now, Rivera, and to a lesser extent, Kenley Jansen (and probably a few others who are less top of mind) have gotten away with making a cutter central to their identity as a pitcher, but more abundant are the cautionary tales of pitchers falling too in love with their cutters and experiencing diminishing, and at times disastrous, returns as a result of overuse. Hugo loved her cutter (Girard), but her cutter didn’t love her back in quite the same way. Girard’s love for Hugo was superficial at best. But as a director, Girard did nudge Hugo’s career to a new level on multiple occasions.

Added to the mix in 2024, Lugo’s cutter provided a way for him to get whiffs in the zone without the same risks inherent to hanging a slider or letting a four-seamer catch too much of the plate. As the final addition to his repertoire, the cutter introduced one more wrinkle for hitters to contend with, which helped elevate Lugo’s performance. On its own, the pitch isn’t all that remarkable, and if pushed to do much more than catch hitters off-guard, the ways in which it is lacking would become apparent. Likewise, Girard offered Hugo something real and of value, but only sporadically. He wasn’t the type who could show up for her consistently, and for most pitchers, neither is a cutter.

The Changeup: “Agreeable Robert Jamison”
As the most fastball-adjacent pitch, the changeup deserves a fastball-adjacent comp. Hugo wasn’t in love with Jamison, nor was he her best friend as Cameron was, but over time, they did cultivate a familial love for each other. Hugo’s true love was Jamison’s sister, and Jamison’s role was partially as a beard and partially as a legal loophole allowing his sister (who had lung cancer) to leave her estate to Hugo.

Hugo’s marriage to Jamison was in some ways a watered down version of her marriage to Cameron, just as Lugo’s changeup is in some ways a watered down version of his sinker — slower but with a similar shape. But watered down doesn’t mean worse. In some ways, Hugo’s marriage to Jamison was easier, more straightforward. Likewise, Lugo’s changeup tends to be a more straightforward way to generate swing-and-miss.

And as a pitcher gets deep into a plate appearance or finds themselves working through the order for a third time, they reach a point where they can’t keep pumping fastballs in there. It’s time to mix in some offspeed. Hugo tried her best to develop an elite fastball and briefly converted to a junkballer, but eventually she hit the point in her outing where she had to go to the changeup to get her desired result.

(For the sake of completeness, it’s necessary to acknowledge that Lugo does sometimes throw a splitter, though he has not thrown one yet this year. Even though it’s a couple ticks slower than his changeup, it moves similarly, so it feels reasonable to lump it in here.)

***

By most metrics, none of Hugo’s individual marriages qualify as particularly successful. Similarly, none of Lugo’s individual pitches grade out particularly well. But by the end of the book, it’s clear Hugo did have a successful career, and she got to spend many years with her true love, even if they were never legally married. Each marriage served a distinct purpose in the moment and as part of her overarching journey. Meanwhile for Lugo, a similar concoction of sequencing, spin, and location has allowed a group of mediocre pitches to combine for overall success.

Lugo probably won’t finish the year with a sub-2.00 ERA, and he’s got pretty long odds when it comes to winning a Cy Young, but if he does, the proof of concept was in The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.