Vacillating for Victor Robles

I was writing from the heart. When the Nationals designated Victor Robles for assignment back in May, I wrote about what it was like to wait for him to make it to the big leagues; and then, once he arrived, to wait for him to turn into a star; and then, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to turn into a star, to wait for him to turn into a solid contributor; and then, as the likelihood of that outcome grew more and more faint, just to wait.

Fans reserve a special kind of affection for players like Robles. They don’t do it on purpose; it’s just how people tend to work. Superstars, with their reliable excellence, are easy to love. They’re big, warm Labrador retrievers with their tails waggling like Gary Sheffield’s bat as they wait impatiently for you to open the front door every night. They give you exactly what you want, and the love they inspire is beautiful and simple. When they move on to another organization, the loss you feel is deep, yes, but its edges are clearly defined because something pure has been taken from you.

When you’ve been watching and waiting and hoping for a player to figure things out for the better part of the decade, the feelings involved are a lot messier. Even if your love and your loss aren’t as profound, their edges are a lot more ragged. You’ve spent years pinballing between highs and lows, hopes and fears, anxiety and joy and despair, sometimes all at once. In other words, it’s a lot more like real life and real love. By the time a player like that moves on, you’ve invested way too much of your well-being in them to simply stop caring. It’s hard to imagine a single Nationals fan anywhere who wasn’t rooting for Robles to finally figure things out once the Mariners gave him the change of scenery he so clearly needed, who wasn’t truly happy to see him get off to a hot start in Seattle. But we all have our limits.

Back on August 6, over at Baseball Prospectus, Mikey Ajeto broke down all the mechanical adjustments that Robles has made since he joined Seattle. (Yes, the same Mikey Ajeto who writes exclusively about pitchers. Honestly, the biggest miracle that Robles has performed isn’t magically going supernova the moment that he turned the W on his hat upside down; it’s getting Ajeto to pay attention to a hitter for once.) He’s dropped his hands, ditched his leg kick, and added a scissor kick and a mini-squat before the pitch. Because Ajeto covered those more technical topics, I can continue to focus on the surface-level numbers. And you know what happened to the surface-level numbers after the publication of that article, which was entirely devoted to documenting Robles’s sudden improvement as the plate? They didn’t just keep getting better, they exploded.

I was wishing as hard as anyone for Robles to succeed with the Mariners, but I didn’t mean like this. I was thrilled to see him land a two-year extension worth a guaranteed $9.75 million, but he wasn’t supposed to instantly turn into the best player in baseball, like moving moving from a district named Washington to an actual state named Washington was all it took to break a powerful curse cast by some old Issaquah-based witch who fell into the Reflecting Pool during her mock trial team’s trip to DC in ninth grade and never got over the humiliation. And no, I’m not exaggerating. From June 5 to August 17, Robles turned his season around, running a 118 wRC+. Since August 18, Robles has literally been the best player in baseball: He’s put up a 230 wRC+ and accrued 1.8 WAR, more than whichever Cooperstown-bound MVP candidate you’d care to name. Sure, it’s fair to point out that he’s running a comically high .527 BABIP over that period, but his .386 xwOBA still ranks 19th among qualified players during that stretch. It’s starting to look like the simplest explanation for why Robles never lived up to his potential is that cherry blossoms are his personal kryptonite.

Somehow Robles left this ragged hole in the hearts of Nationals fans, but arrived in Seattle a gleaming superstar. The chaos has only reared its head lately. Robles is playing through a hip issue, and left his last two games due to different injuries: leg soreness on Sunday and a right hand contusion after getting hit by a pitch to lead off last night’s game, an 11-2 loss to the Yankees. Before Robles was removed against New York, his wildness on the basepaths finally caught up with the Mariners, with whom he’d previously gone 25-for-25 on stolen base attempts. He was caught stealing home in the bottom of the first inning, taking the bat out of Justin Turner’s hands with the bases loaded, two outs, and a 3-0 count.

I’m not saying all this is going to last, no matter how much Robles loves the Puget Sound. Since he arrived in Seattle, he’s run a 34.4% hard-hit rate and an 86.7-mph average exit velocity. The former is much better than Robles has put up in any previous season, but the latter isn’t and both are still well below league average. The real change is his barrel rate of 8.6%, which is miles above anything he’s accomplished in previous years. But keep in mind that we’re talking about just 13 barrels out of 151 balls in play, and neither his launch angle nor his GB/FB rate represents much of a departure from his career numbers. We’ve moved past any-batter-can-do-just-about-anything-over-60-plate-appearances territory, but we’re not all that far off either.

Robles has made some honest-to-goodness adjustments to his swing that have had an immediate, dramatic effect — frankly, the effect was so immediate and so dramatic that the Nationals should be looking closely at every single one of those adjustments and asking themselves what the Mariners saw that they didn’t — and we should probably adjust our priors going forward. But I haven’t seen anything (yet) to convince me that he’s going to keep running a BABIP above .500 from here on out. Further, Robles has been dealing with a hip issue in addition to the leg soreness (which is a separate ailment) and the hand injury that forced his early exit from the last two games. As someone who spent something like a quarter of my life rooting for Robles to finally put it all together, I sincerely hope his nagging injuries turn out to be no more than just that, and that when Robles finally does come down to earth, he finds a comfortable spot that’s situated well above sea level. But as long as he’s spending whole months with a wRC+ above 200, I reserve the right to be a little jealous.