Parker Hageman

Pointed this out in spring training. I think this undoubtedly helps his ability to see pitches better (the atrocious challenge in the opening weekend aside). Small sample size incoming but he drew more walks in spring training and has a 15% chase rate early compared to 28% last year.

@Melissa Berman Please quickly whip up an Andrew Chafin one.

Image courtesy of © Kim Klement Neitzel-Imagn Images Certainly, the list of teams that have yet to sign a major league free agent is trying to tell us something. It always is. When that list includes the Nationals and Rockies -- two clubs that spent 2025 playing out the string and still managed to finish a combined 80 games out of first place -- the message isn’t exactly encrypted. Those organizations have made peace with their current reality, and free agency is apparently not the place where they plan to fix it. As a reminder, Major League Baseball ownership is not required to spend money in any sort of equitable or competitive way. There are luxury tax penalties, sure, but many teams treat those like speed bumps -- something to hit harder so you get airborne on the other side. The Dodgers, perched at the top of the payroll food chain, pay a luxury tax larger than the entire payrolls of 12 other teams. This is not an accident. It’s a choice. None of this is meant as an excuse for the Pohlad family. They are free to spend as much as they’d like. In fact, it would probably make them more money in the long run. There’s research on fandom psychology showing that when teams win championships during a child’s formative years (roughly ages 8 to 12), the emotional attachment is basically permanent. Speaking as someone who was 8 and 10 when the Twins last won the World Series, I can say with some confidence that without those titles, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here banging away at a keyboard explaining why this organization should win baseball games. You can argue, and people often do, that baseball in Minnesota presents unique challenges. Cold spring weather. Cabin weekends. A population that wants to be outside the second the snow melts. Pepper in the lingering perception that downtown isn’t safe. (I’d argue that’s at least partially manufactured, but the response to it is very real. Target Field’s surrounding infrastructure is designed so fans can exit their cars, enter a ramp, cross a skyway, and reach their seats without ever really interacting with downtown at all.) Then there’s the simple, unavoidable cost of taking a family to a game. Wrap that all in a fetid burrito shell of losing baseball and you can see how the attendance has shrunk to near nothing. All of that is to say: winning could solve a lot of those problems. Grabbing attention in a positive way would help awake a dormant fanbase. It would be easy -- and honestly pretty cathartic -- to wallow in the reality that the Twins aren’t going to “play the spend game.” The ongoing team sale saga only reinforces why blowing past self-imposed guardrails might not be prudent when buyers never quite materialize. This is simply the world the Twins have chosen to operate in. We can be mad about it. We can tweet about it. But we don’t control it. Which brings us to the first immutable truth of the Twins’ offseason: they are not shopping in the premium free agent aisle. You can point to Carlos Correa as evidence that they’ll chase elite talent, but even there the market was softened by injury concerns. Acknowledging that, you’d still think there should be some options in the next tier, those players who fit a team publicly committed to building around its existing core. As Derek Falvey explained during the Winter Meetings, this is just how the market works now. The Twins have openly acknowledged the need for a power bat, but the odds of that bat being the market-setter -- someone like Pete Alonso -- were always close to zero. Yes, it would have been fun to watch the Polar Bear deposit baseballs into the Target Field seats for a couple of summers. It’s also true that aging corner infielders on long-term deals have a tendency to stop aging gracefully right around the time the contract gets uncomfortable. The real question is whether similar production can be found in the next tier -- the Ryan O’Hearn or Carlos Santana types who sat just behind Alonso in WAR in 2025. That doesn’t mean help isn’t coming. As Falvey noted, conversations with late-signing free agents often begin far earlier than fans realize. It’s not sexy, but it’s worth remembering that Bader’s 4.4 WAR in 2025 ranked among the best of any current free agent center fielder -- and 2.7 of that came in a Twins uniform. Taken together, the Bader, Coulombe, and France trio produced 5.1 WAR at a combined cost of roughly $8.75 million. That’s not a terrible return for waiting out the market. That said, there’s a fine line between acknowledging efficient roster construction and applauding austerity, and celebrating miserly decision-making by front offices might be the most lasting -- and frustrating -- legacy Moneyball left an entire generation of fans. The second notable offseason trend is the reliever market, where top-end arms have been scooped up like James Woods following a trail of candy -- and the Twins haven’t even been rumored participants. This is especially confusing given that the front office effectively emptied the bullpen at last year’s trade deadline. It’s also a team that operates squarely in the modern philosophy of shortening games and leaning heavily on relievers. In 2025, Twins relievers threw multiple innings just 109 times. Only the Cubs and Phillies used their bullpen in shorter bursts. If there were ever a roster primed for a bullpen reload, it’s this one. There are reasons for the restraint. Historically, Falvey’s front office has avoided multi-year deals for free agent relievers. Most additions come late in the offseason, on one-year contracts. Given the volatility of bullpen arms, that logic tracks. Pitching is the most expensive commodity on the open market, and the Twins have invested heavily in an “arm barn” designed to produce options internally at a fraction of the cost. There’s also confidence in the current wave of young arms. Just as Griffin Jax and Louis Varland before them, several starting pitching prospects are likely to be converted into relievers. Scroll through the list of arms acquired or already in the system, and it’s almost a certainty that one or more will be asked to handle late-inning duties by season’s end. The Twins will continue to take shots on one-year relievers and waiver claims they believe can be molded into something more. It hasn’t always worked, but keeping long-term money off the bullpen preserves flexibility elsewhere. Still, it’s hard not to feel exhausted by the annual exercise of justifying all of this. From a fan’s perspective, the math is simple: identify the best players and go get them. The Twins’ ownership and front office have chosen a different equation, complete with clearly defined guardrails. And like it or not, they’ll continue operating within them -- come hell, high water, or another quiet winter. View full article

Image courtesy of © Jerome Miron-Imagn Images The Minnesota Twins’ front office walked into the winter meetings and did something fans probably needed to hear: they said they are not interested in trading Byron Buxton, Joe Ryan or Pablo López this offseason. Given the smoke surrounding all three in recent weeks, that was no small statement. And honestly, that is exactly how it should be. These are the types of players competitive teams collect, not unload. You build a core around them. You do not move them unless you are ready to admit that the window is closed and the locks have rusted shut. But even with that reassurance, fans are not imagining the tension. The Twins looked very much like a franchise walking the line between competing and retrenching. Last year’s deadline, which involved shedding bullpen arms and clearing money, suggested a team bracing for a softer landing in 2026 rather than gearing up to sprint. That is why, despite the front office’s public stance, it is still plausible to wonder whether the door is completely shut on moving Buxton, Ryan or López. Mid-market teams often operate with different guardrails. They do not have the luxury of outspending mistakes or replacing injuries with premium depth. When payroll projections dip, like this season where the Twins are expected to land well below last year’s post-purge figure of around 130 million dollars and possibly under 100 million dollars, the temptation to convert expensive, high-value players into multiple lower-cost future contributors becomes very real. It is not desirable from the fan perspective. It is not energizing. But it is a reality that front offices in this economic tier confront regularly. Teams in this bracket build and rebuild in rolling cycles. They hold their stars until they cannot justify the next contract or until the payroll crunch tightens. They trade premium players not because they want to but because the structure demands it. That is the context sitting quietly underneath the front office’s reassurance. First: Buxton. He is coming off the healthiest season we have seen in years. He energized the lineup, stabilized center field, showed MVP-caliber flashes and brought the type of charisma and presence that cannot be taught. However, he also carries the lingering reputation of injuries, being on the wrong side of age-30, and the uncertainty surrounding a potential 2027 work stoppage. If a missed season or partial season affects the remaining years of his team-friendly contract, the calculus shifts. For a mid-market team, this winter might have been the moment to capitalize on maximum value if they wanted to. Second: Ryan and López. Top-of-the-rotation arms don’t just walk around unattended. If you’re rebuilding, these are your most valuable trade chips. But if you’re trying to compete—even on a budget—they’re the exact pieces you refuse to entertain offers on. The Twins planting a flag here suggests they view 2025 not as a step-back year but as a bridge year they intend to bolster internally rather than detonate. Third: they understand the fan base. I mean, it’s hard to believe that this is the case given all the posturing and tone deaf reactions in the recent past. This is not a market that wants to hear about another cycle of waiting for a window to open. Fans want a push toward contention, not a slow retreat in the name of long-term flexibility. The front office knows that trading franchise-level players immediately after trimming payroll would create significant backlash. With attendance dipping into the lowest numbers they’ve seen since the Metrodome years, the front office and potential new partners have to understand they need some kind of revenue stream and unloading star talent would result in Target Field becoming the place where moss collects on empty seats. So their stance matters. Their core stays intact. Their best players remain. However, the underlying economics do not go away. The Pohlad family could choose to spend well beyond mid-market ranges, but they have opted instead to operate within them. If the Twins were to reverse course and entertain offers for Buxton, López or Ryan, the payroll projection would collapse quickly. What currently looks like a moderate dip from 130 million dollars could fall below 100 million dollars. That outcome would invite questions about whether the competitive timeline was being pushed further into the future. For now, the message is clear. The Twins are saying they are not rebuilding. It is the correct public stance. The next step is proving that keeping this group together leads to something greater than a reassuring sound bite. View full article

Jackson’s progress at the plate is only part of the story. His defensive work in limited time was encouraging as well. + 3 framing runs + 2 caught stealing runs His throwing strength stands out. Jackson averaged 83.4 mph on throws, which ranked sixth best in baseball. Christian Vázquez, for comparison, averaged 77 mph but paired that with an elite 0.59 second exchange. Jackson does not have that kind of transfer speed, but he possesses the raw arm strength that limits running opportunities. With solid exchanges and above-average carry, he should help the Twins manage the increased running game trend across MLB. No one should expect Alex Jackson to become a breakout star. That is not the role the Twins need him to fill. They need a backup who can receive a staff, manage the running game, produce occasional pull-side power, and trend toward better overall decisions at the plate. The available data suggests Jackson can check those boxes. His improvements in swing intent, bat speed, and discipline are not minor. His defensive metrics are similarly encouraging. This move may not be flashy. It is the type of depth addition that tends to look more meaningful as the season wears on. Based on what he showed in limited opportunities, the Twins may have identified a backup catcher who is quietly moving in the right direction. View full article

When he was hired, he had zero experience… more to the point, neither of them had COACHING experience. 6/8.

Two of the 8 coaches in the divisional series (Boone, Counsell) had zero coaching experience before managing.

Image courtesy of Matt Blewett-Imagn Images I might be on to something or just on something, but after watching the Twins move on from Rocco Baldelli and considering where the organization goes next, one name keeps circling back in my head. Torii Hunter. It’s not just that he’s a recognizable name or that he still has a permanent place in the memories of fans who watched him climb the Metrodome wall. It’s that he brings everything the role seems to require right now: charisma, media savvy, respect from players, a familiarity with both the fan base and the front office, and most importantly, the ability to set the tone in a clubhouse. Make no mistake, there are qualified internal candidates. Hank Conger has been groomed for a managerial role and understands the organization’s infrastructure. Toby Gardenhire, who has spent years in the system, has the family ties and the respect of those around him. Both could easily maintain continuity and keep the train moving forward. But Hunter represents something different. He is the kind of entertaining, magnetic figure who could satisfy both the front office’s modern sensibilities and the fan base’s desire for energy and connection. As Twins Daily’s Nick Nelson asked recently, what’s the actual evidence that Torii Hunter would be a successful managerial candidate beyond, you know, vibes? To be fair, none of us really know much about any of the candidates, especially ones that have zero track record. Even insiders probably only have a slightly better read on what the Twins want or what specific candidates can provide. What we do know is that Hunter has built a reputation for connecting with players in a way few others can. In 2024, Royce Lewis credited Hunter as one of his most trusted voices while battling through injuries and the mental grind of early setbacks. “He simplified the game, because a lot of baseball is overthought and you overdo things a lot,” Lewis told MLB.com in August 2024, when he was slugging .613 with 10 home runs in his injury-shortened season. “For me, I simplify my game, whether it’s the approach [at the plate]—don’t make excuses. ... Learn how to get better at it. Learn not to swing at that pitch and move on. Torii has harnessed me into doing that over and over, and I truly believe in it.” That is high praise from one of the franchise’s cornerstone players, and it echoes what others have said about Hunter in his post-playing roles. With the Angels, Hunter served as a special assistant in player development, a mentor whose job was to connect with young players and help them navigate the transition to professional baseball. “Just be available for players that want to talk, that’s my biggest thing,” Hunter told the Star Tribune last month when describing his role. “I try to help implement the system, or be a sounding board. I’m here to share some of my experience over the years, someone who’s been through some pain of his own, and help them find some solutions.” Former Angels manager Ron Washington raved about Hunter’s “intelligence” and “championship culture” experience, describing him as a vital influence on a young roster. That sounds awfully familiar to what the Twins could use in 2026. Now, the Angels are not exactly an organization you want to model. But the bottom line is that Hunter’s strength is working with players. If the Twins’ biggest issue the past two seasons has been a slow cultural fade, his presence would be a positive step toward restoring energy and accountability in the clubhouse. Let's not also forget his epic post-game dance parties back in 2015. And that is what the modern MLB manager really is. They are not the old-school tacticians from the 70s or 80s pulling every lever in the dugout. Most matchups, pinch-hits, and bullpen decisions are mapped out by the front office and support staff long before the first pitch. The modern manager’s real job is to manage people, to maintain culture and keep players pulling in the same direction over a 162-game grind. That is why Hunter’s lack of traditional managerial experience is not necessarily a strike against him. You look at modern examples like Aaron Boone with the Yankees or Alex Cora with the Red Sox, both former players with name recognition, media fluency, and credibility in the clubhouse. Hunter fits that profile perfectly. The Twins have had steady, consistent leaders in the dugout such as Tom Kelly, Ron Gardenhire, Paul Molitor, and Rocco Baldelli. But lately, the club has lacked some of the personality and spark that once made them so engaging. Hunter offers that. If the front office provides him with the right staff, the right players, and the freedom to manage the culture his way, Torii Hunter could be the bridge between data and emotion, the person who ties the analytical and human sides of the game together. And maybe, just maybe, the spark the Twins need. View full article

Image courtesy of © Bruce Kluckhohn-Imagn Images “I want a f*cking parade.” That was Rocco Baldelli’s rallying cry to his clubhouse in spring training. He wasn’t talking about incremental improvement or simply competing for a division title. He was setting the bar at the top: a World Series championship, a parade down Hennepin Avenue, the kind of celebration that cements players into franchise folklore. “The community will forever be indebted to you,” Baldelli continued. “Forever. They’ll f*cking love you.” If you walk around Target Field, the evidence of what parades mean to Minnesota is everywhere. Kent Hrbek has a bar inside and a statue outside. Dan Gladden is a voice on the radio. Kirby Puckett is bronzed. Tim Laudner greets fans on the television broadcast. Bert Blyleven and Tom Kelly’s numbers hang in retirement. They aren’t remembered just because they were good. They’re remembered because they won. They gave this state parades. The 2025 Twins didn’t deliver a parade. They didn’t even come close. What they delivered was another losing season, over 90 losses for the sixth time since Target Field opened in 2010. The offense spent April swinging pool noodles. The bullpen gave away leads. Fans sank into malaise. By July, the front office hit the eject button and turned the roster into a liquidation sale. This wasn’t the corner turned in 2023, when Minnesota finally won its first playoff series in two decades. That team felt like the start of something. Instead, ownership slashed payroll, lost its TV deal, left swaths of the fanbase unable to watch, floated a sale, then backpedaled and brought in investors to cover debts. The same hands on the wheel. The same directionless drift. And so, instead of a parade, Minnesota got prospects. There were brief flickers of life. A 12-game winning streak in May. A handful of strong individual performances. But the overriding story was failure and frustration. The offense looked lifeless. The bullpen collapsed again and again. Fans checked out. By August, Target Field felt like a ghost town. I remember what a parade feels like. In 1987, I was a kid in first grade, standing downtown with my sister, ticker tape in the air, the city buzzing, Sal Butera’s car catching fire in the procession, the kind of chaos that never leaves your memory. In 1991, it was the same energy, the same joy, the same proof that a baseball team could unite an entire state. Leaving downtown in ’87, I stuck my hand out the car window along Washington Avenue and strangers in Twins gear slapped it like we were all family. That’s what a parade does. It bonds people. It brands memories. It tells you that for once, in this corner of the sports universe, we are winners. And that’s why Baldelli’s words cut so deep. We want that f*cking parade. Not just for the players. For all of us. Could the Twins get back there? Maybe. Byron Buxton, when healthy, is still one of the best centerfielders in the game. Pablo López and Joe Ryan are a formidable one-two punch. Royce Lewis has star potential, Luke Keaschall appears ready, and the pipeline is stocked with names like Walker Jenkins, Emmanuel Rodriguez, and Kaelen Culpepper. The Twins have built a reputation for developing arms, and pitching depth is finally a strength. But hope is fragile. López, Ryan, even Buxton could be moved this winter. Ownership hasn’t inspired confidence. And fans know the cycle too well. The peaks of 1987 and 1991 followed valleys in the early ’80s. The division titles of the 2000s came after the misery of the late ’90s. The Twins lose, they rebound, they hang around the fringes, they collapse, and the cycle repeats. 2025 felt like another valley. I’ll admit something. This was the first year in my life that I didn’t attend a Twins home game. Part of it was life. Kids in travel sports. Work that swallowed spring and summer. Part of it was principle. I wasn’t eager to hand ownership money after they tore the roster apart. And part of it was heartbreak. Watching the promise of 2023 vanish so quickly. But I know myself. I’ll be back. We all will. That’s what baseball does. It gives you just enough. A streak here. A promising prospect there. A glimpse of what could be. And it keeps you coming back. And we keep coming back for one reason. We want that f*cking parade. It likely won’t be next year. Maybe not the one after that. But somewhere down the line, when this core grows, when the prospects click, when the cycle turns upward again, we’ll be back downtown. Ticker tape in the air. Kids on shoulders. High-fives out of car windows. Because we all want what Baldelli wanted this past spring. A f*cking parade. View full article

Twins Daily has a handful of them as well...