Matthew Trueblood

Hmm. Mirroring is not a term I encounter much in this context, except in terms of spin axis. Some sinkers and sliders or four-seamers and curves will be said to have good spin mirroring, because they're spinning (more or less) opposite directions along the same axis. Disguising the pitch through keeping the same delivery is usually referred to under the umbrella of repeatability and/or release-point matching, and the clustering of release and early trajectories of pitches usually fall under the argot of "tunneling". But mirroring works ok, too, if it's the easiest way to envision what a pitcher's trying to do.

Tuesday evening will bring the results of the 2025 National Baseball Hall of Fame BBWAA election. Before that happens, here are my 10 selections from the annual ballot, and the reasons why I chose each—and why I excluded some other candidates. Image courtesy of © Bob DeChiara-Imagn Images I hew to a few key principles when considering who I think deserves to enter the National Baseball Hall of Fame. It doesn't really matter, of course, because I don't have a vote, but I go through some version of the exercise each year, because I can't evaluate the choices made by the tenured members of the Baseball Writers Association of America without coming to my own conclusions about who should go in and why. Here are my main thoughts about the ballot as it exists these days, in no particular order: By and large, I'm a "big Hall" guy. There are, for my money, more important and wonderful players on the outside of Cooperstown looking in than guys who have plaques but didn't exactly merit them. Off-field matters notwithstanding, I tend to err on the side of letting in players who don't check all of some old-fashioned voters' boxes but who brightened the field with their presence over long careers. I'll usually favor peak over longevity, but I think some public discourse has run too far in that direction. We ought to value the desire, dedication, and adaptability to stay helpful for more than a decade, even if a player had a truly elite seven- or eight-year peak. I'm unwilling to exclude a player for using performance-enhancing drugs. I do discount players' numbers slightly if we know that they used, but the problem was huge and systemic and while each person bears personal responsibility for the choices they made about how to seek competitive edges during that era, I don't feel that using those drugs (or, in Carlos Beltrán's case, being the focal point of the investigation into the Astros' sign-stealing scandal) should keep a deserving player out of the Hall. On the other hand, I'm something of a hardliner when it comes to more egregious and (in my opinion) serious failures of character. This is the highest honor that can be conferred on a member of this profession, and it's my feeling that we should deny that honor to people who (most especially) inflict violence on family members, intimate partners, or any other group, especially if they were repeat offenders. That also goes for people who espouse hateful things (no Curt Schilling for me, when he was eligible) and those who drink and drive and don't learn from the egregious, wantonly dangerous misdeed (no Todd Helton for me, either, though I lost that argument). That should give you some clues as to whose names are about to appear below. Without further ado, here we go. CC Sabathia A no-brainer. Sabathia pitched 19 seasons as a workhorse, and not just an innings-eater, but an ace. He was, arguably, the last great pitcher of his kind, a threat to go eight innings every time he toed the rubber. Sabathia made 134 starts in which he went at least 7 1/3, which is not only the fifth-most since 1995, but 22 more than the most by any active hurler. (Justin Verlander sits at 112.) I heartily recommend his memoir, Till The End, which documents not only his career, but his long battle with alcohol dependence. He was larger than life on the mound, a great postseason pitcher, and late in his career, a big enough man to admit that he was hurting a great many people he loved by destroying himself. His journey to sobriety is as inspiring to many as his incredible talent and phenomenal performances. Ichiro Suzuki The most singular player in modern baseball history. Suzuki didn't even come to the States until he was 27, which hid some of his greatest brilliance from us, and yet, no one who ever watched him doubted he was a Hall of Famer. His feel for contact—especially the ability to hit the ball deep enough to the left side of the infield to secure a single almost every time, even if the shortstop managed to keep it on the dirt—was breathtaking, and his arm in right field was the most entertaining of his generation. That was true not only because he threw so well, but because he did it with such a whipsaw grace, from a small frame, and because he augmented the utility of his sheer arm strength by charging every single with fluid speed and confidence. He's one of the 25 best baseball players ever, if we widen our lens to remember that his skill set probably peaked during his final few years in Japan. If you've never looked up his NPB numbers, do so. His lowest full-season average there was .342, and he left after batting .387/.460/.539 in 2000. Alex Rodríguez Is he truly likable? No. Is he obnoxious on FOX broadcasts now? Yes. Did he use steroids, even after testing went into effect and everyone understood them to be taboo? Absolutely. But unlike (say) Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, Rodríguez was never accused of being violent or criminally inappropriate toward women, and while he might have had a vague reputation as a self-satisfied jerk off the field, his sins outside the lines are relatively tame. They don't remotely erase the fact that, along with Bonds and Willie Mays and Henry Aaron, Rodríguez has a very strong case as the best player of all time. His pwoer and speed were incredible, but some players could loosely match those tools. What no one ever matched was the way he blended those loud tools with subtle but equally valuable refined skills, from an intelligent and adaptable approach at the plate to clever and dazzling defense. Carlos Beltrán I mentally bin Beltrán with Scott Rolen. While they were different in several obvious ways, both were extremely well-rounded—so much so that it was sometimes regrettably easy to overlook their greatest strengths in favor of marveling at their lack of weaknesses. Beltrán's raw numbers are slightly diminished by the mix of parks and league run environments he encountered over the years, and even so, they're gaudy. He was also, throughout his 20s, one of the best defensive center fielders of his generation, which often got lumped in and treated like an afterthought, given the balanced offensive dynamism he offered as a switch-hitter. That he helped engineer the banging scheme in 2017 is a shame, but not a dark enough mark on his record to make me think twice about wanting to see him enter the Hall. He found so many ways to be good late in his career, and was so respected by teammates throughout that career, that I'm more inclined to give him bonus points for baseball character than to strike him from the list for cheating in his senescence. Félix Hernández I think that, because he came up so young and was thus in decline by his age-30 season, people remember Hernández's peak as shorter than it really was. From 2009-15, Hernández made six All-Star teams, won a Cy Young Award, finished twice two other times and was in the top 10 for the honor thrice more. He averaged 228 innings and 221 strikeouts per season and had a 2.83 ERA. If those seven years were his whole peak, this would be a thorny conversation. In reality, though, he had come up in the middle of 2005 and had three full, perfectly solid campaigns before really hitting his stride in that 2009 campaign. He also pitched with personality, and was a bit of a throwback: he didn't have to strike you out for you to feel as though you had no chance when he was done with you. Andy Pettitte Yes, he used HGH, and yes, I hold that against him—almost more than I do for hitters, because one of the chief challenges for pitchers is to stay healthy and I consider things that artificially reduce that risk an especially egregious sin against the game. Pettitte was an emblem of an era, though. Every October, you'd turn on the TV, and he would be there, with the cap pulled so low over his eyes that his face was just a black abyss behind his glove. He'd be coming off a strong regular season, but there would be questions about him—and then he'd answer them with a resounding performance that helped vault his teams to one World Series after another. Pitchers deserve some extra credit for holding up under the hot lights, and for achieving longevity even when piling up extra innings after lots of their counterparts had gone home each fall. Chase Utley Like Beltrán, Utley was a winner, because he did everything well and sought the edge everywhere it could be found. He bordered on dirty, but if the rest of the league were as dedicated to playing the game ferociously as he was, they wouldn't have been in any danger from him. He was ruthless, and he was everywhere. During his peak, he hit for average, drew walks, stole bases more efficiently than anyone else in baseball, and played better defense at second base than anyone else in baseball. The thing people overlooked too often, because he tended to hit more doubles than homers, was his power. He averaged 27 homers and 67 total extra-base hits per year from 2005-10, and he also perfected the art of being hit by pitches. The second half of his career was underwhelming, but he should have won two MVPs (which, in a testament to him, went to teammtes instead) before that decline began. Billy Wagner I love the story of Wagner breaking his right arm playing hat football when he was a kid, and thus becoming an accidental lefty. It speaks not only to his resourcefulness, but to his passion for the sport; he couldn't be without baseball long enough to let an injury heal all the way. He just switched arms and kept hucking it. You'd like to see more volume, even from a reliever, to put them in. Yet, Wagner had more strikeouts than either Trevor Hoffman or Mariano Rivera, even though they had roughly 180 and 350 more career innings than he did, respectively. You'd like to see a better postseason track record, too. But the fact is that Wagner struck out 33.2% of opposing batters for his career, which would be an elite rate for a single season even now—and that was at a time when the baseline for strikeouts was about 20% lower than it is now. When he came in to close out a game against your team, you knew he was a Hall of Famer. Russell Martin For me, this is not as controversial as some have made it. Martin was a unique athlete who could have stuck on the infield if he'd insisted upon it, but instead, he made himself a great catcher—one of the best defenders at the most important non-pitching position on the field, in an era full of great defensive catchers. That so much of his value comes from pitch framing inevitably dings him for many, but I love framing and believe its value is real and should be acknowledged. Martin also brought a modicum of power and unusual speed to the position, and you didn't have to make the big tradeoffs that so many catchers force their teams to make. He was well-rounded, an average-plus hitter and a terrific run preventer, as well as a beloved teammate whose teams were a truly wild 212 games over .500 when he started during his career. In 11 different seasons, his team was at least 11 games to the good. Ben Zobrist This one, admittedly, is a fringy case. I'd like to see Zobrist stick around on the ballot, as much as I'd like to see him actually inducted. He's the guy who probably did have too short a career to make a compelling Hall case, but from 2009-16, he defined an evolving role for the whole league, playing all over the diamond (and being above-average at each spot) and hitting .271/.366/.439, despite a lot of those seasons being fallow ones for offense throughout the league. I also give him some extra credit for being instrumental in two straight World Series runs by teams he was on, the 2015 Royals and the 2016 Cubs. Excluded here, but worth a quick mention, are the following: Bobby Abreu makes a very strong case, and once Beltrán gets in, I think it will be easier to fairly judge him and for some voters to find room for him on their ballots. Andruw Jones, Manny Ramírez, Francisco Rodríguez, and Omar Vizquel were not considered, as I consider all of them to have been disqualifyingly violent and/or cruel away from the field. Dustin Pedroia is very close to Utley as a candidate, and probably could have gotten his slot. I'll certainly be taking another close look at him next year. Brian McCann is a similar candidate to Martin, but I want to advocate Martin first. David Wright and Troy Tulowitzki were clearly Hall of Fame talents. I'm not yet sure I can get them over the line, based on how truncated by injuries their careers were, but they're legitimate candidates. There's my ballot. It's imperfect; all ballots are. It was fun to put it together, though, and I'd love to hear what you think of it, as well as whom you would support. View full article

Minnesota Star-Tribune sports columnist LaVelle E. Neal III delivered a meaty update on the progress of the team's impending sale Thursday morning, including some details that elucidate the timeline for this momentous change. Image courtesy of © Matt Blewett-Imagn Images It was surprising to read a few of the items in Neal's piece, even though other facts he noted were already reported elsewhere. There are, apparently, more bidders than we would have guessed—a "double-digit" number of inquiries, as Neal termed it. Not every inquiring party will ultimately submit a bid in cases like these, but as Neal described the likelihood of a multi-round bidding process, it was hard not to imagine a bit of a bidding war developing. While he didn't name any new potential buyers (beyond the Ishbias, with whom we've all become acquainted by now), Neal's description of the situation makes it sound like the team will have no trouble being sold for a high price. We'd already heard from Dan Hayes that there was a chance that a new owner would be identified by Opening Day, but the way Neal lays things out, that feels almost inevitable. He's quick to caution that any new owner would have to go through the league approval process, and it sounds like Memorial Day or Flag Day will be the targets for an official transfer of ownership. Once we know who the person is, though, historically, ownership changes tend to feel complete—even before they really are. Steadily, throughout this winter, the reasons for optimism about the likely shape and timeline of this process have piled up. Everything depends on whether the owner who ends up winning this bidding will take an active interest and be willing to invest money to rebuild the fan base, if only by putting more talent on the field than they could superficially afford. We can't know that yet, so analysis is folly. Neal's report gives us ample reason to expect a fast-moving process and an encouraging resolution, though. A couple of final notes from Neal were so unsurprising as to be obvious, but they're still valuable. Firstly, he alluded to the fact that Target Field is a major asset (literally and conceptually) in this process. The park is modern, well-maintained, and has a chance to be a 100-year facility, so that's how we'd expect new owners to view it, but it's nice to have affirmation of it. One of our main criteria for judging the acceptability of a new owner, as fans, should be their commitment to ensuring that the team plays at the park for several more decades. Neal also reported that it's likely a former Twins player will be part of an ownership group. That, too, is unsurprising, and he almost sounds like he's speculating, rather than reporting anything rooted in sources' insights. He's probably right, though. Any non-Minnesotan owners (and, while Neal also mentioned that there is local interest, the balance of probability is that the new owners will be from somewhere else) will want a local face as a minority partner. Major business owners from the area who aren't positioned to buy the team themselves but have enough on hand to invest in them are nice, but a person like Joe Mauer, Justin Morneau, Torii Hunter or Nelson Cruz could have a special appeal. Fans would be more likely to warm to new owners with that kind of person at their shoulder than to do the same for some otherwise anonymous wealthy businessperson. Impatience will get us nowhere, but it's increasingly difficult not to get excited about these proceedings. The Twins are likely to change hands quite soon, in the grand scheme of things, and it sounds like that transition will be a fruitful and happy one for Twins fans. View full article

This one has nothing to do with the impending decision by Roki Sasaki, but another flamethrowing young pitcher has created another opportunity to pick up a previously committed Latin American talent—and, once again, the nimble Twins are taking advantage. Raudy Reyes had a major growth spurt and emerged late on the scene as the top non-Sasaki arm in this class, and the team from suburban Cobb County, Georgia pivoted to sign him, despite the major resource reallocation that required. In so doing, they vacated an informal agreement with Dencer Diaz, an infielder from the Dominican Republic, and the Twins' international scouting department (guided by, among others, Kevin Goldstein) was in position to offer a substantial bonus to snare Diaz on the rebound. This is the second late move they've made as this market opens for 2025, supplementing a class previously viewed as interesting but not exceptional. With Diaz and Teilon Serrano added to their haul, the Twins keep building upon a strong reputation in Latin America. View full rumor

You and I will have to agree to disagree on almost all of this, but the first part there is a much-needed catch, and I owe all the readers an apology there! I fumbled the edit. Peter had written "the team", which I went to edit to "the airline," but my brain was working on too many different things at the time and I changed it to "the Twins". A grievous error on my part. Thanks for catching it!

One of the fascinating and important knock-on effects of the Roki Sasaki sweepstakes is a miniature windfall of international amateur free agents becoming unexpectedly available at the last second, as a new window for signing such players begins Wednesday. This was foreseen. Sasaki's signing bonus with whichever team he selects (it's down to the Los Angeles Dodgers, San Diego Padres, and Toronto Blue Jays) will have to come from a finite, hard-capped pool of money allotted for each team to spend on these players each year, and since teams strike handshake deals with big-money prospects long before the actual opening of the signing period, whoever signs Sasaki will have to throw back a few high-profile members of their class. On Tuesday night, the Twins were the beneficiaries of that situation. Teilon Serrano, a Dominican shortstop-turned-outfielder with impressive tools and a mid-six-figure expected price tag, was set to sign with the Dodgers, but they released him to seek a deal with another team, and Minnesota has swooped in to scoop him up. The frequent metaphor for players like these is an accurate one: they're lottery tickets. Serrano is unlikely even to play in the big leagues, let alone to become a star. Still, just as you'd happily take an extra fourth-round draft pick if it were just floating out there for the taking, it's worth pursuing a player like Serrano if your scouts have done some due diligence on him and like what they've seen—and the disruptive influence of Sasaki has given the Twins just such an opportunity. View full rumor

Carl Pohlad is the most Mr. Potter-coded real person I have ever heard of and I didn't realize nearly how true that was until Peter undertook this series.

I agree. Indicates, for my money, that they're getting serious about this.

The name of the game is landing smart people to build and operate your baseball team—but as soon as you do so, the name of the game becomes keeping them. So, from time to time, you have to rename their games. The Twins promoted Josh Kalk, Alex Hassan, and Sean Johnson to assistant general manager roles Tuesday, in a move that partially backfills the promotion of Jeremy Zoll to GM in November. Zoll replaced the outgoing Thad Levine in that job, but still (of course) answers to president of baseball and business operations Derek Falvey. In Johnson (scouting), Kalk (data and analytics) and Hassan (player development), the team not-so-coincidentally inflated the titles of three people who had taken on chief roles within the three major departments that make up most front offices. Giving them this bump affirms the team's satisfaction with the jobs they've each done, and it shields the team a bit from the risk of losing any of them to another organization. All three were already so established and accomplished with the club, though, that it's hard to envision them leaving for anything short of a GM job elsewhere. That's still possible, but surely not imminent, and now, the three are all incrementally more prominent in their places with the team as they look toward 2025. It's not a true restructuring; it's just a good way to give some essential baseball personnel their due. View full rumor

In news that could prove to be huge (but is noteworthy, either way), Sportico reported Monday that the Ishbia brothers purchased a small minority stake in the White Sox in 2021. Naturally, to avoid conflicts of interest, MLB will require them to divest themselves from the Sox before buying the Twins, which they do seem to be strongly interested in doing. It's a procedural hurdle, at worst, because it's not as though they've been active in the operation of the team in the short period during which they've had a financial investment there. Still, this is news. When it was first reported that the two might be interested in buying the Twins, it came in the wake of rumors that they had explored buying the White Sox in full from Jerry Reinsdorf. Apparently, they had (instead) made a small investment and stayed behind the scenes there. The Sox are a messy potential purchase right now, as Reinsdorf angles for a new ballpark to replace Comiskey Park II (for so we shall continue to call it) and the organization fights its way out of a deep competitive chasm. It only makes sense that, if the chance is there, the Ishbias will buy the Twins and disentangle themselves from the Sox. That they are involved and interested enough to have stirred the right embers to alert the folks at Sportico tells us something concrete, even if it's only implied. View full rumor

I do. If we get distracted by false or exaggerated stories, if we dismiss the importance of facts, we make it harder to hold the rich and powerful accountable for their REAL transgressions.

Precisely so. I think this is one of the points where Peter gives us a particularly valuable reprieve from half-truth. It's tempting to sensationalize the one thing into the other, given what he became thereafter, but there's a very real and very important difference between being the person who decides to execute a foreclosure and/or profits from it, and being the person sent to deliver notice of that action. It's just not the same thing, at all.

What happens to a center fielder if he ceases to be an ambi-turner? Image courtesy of © Matt Krohn-Imagn Images For as long as he's been a big-leaguer, Byron Buxton has been one of the best center fielders in baseball. Truthfully, he was probably one of the best in baseball long before he was a big-leaguer; his offensive issues and injury trouble just slowed him down. In the only thing anywhere near a full season he's ever played (2017), Buxton was worth 23 Defensive Runs Saved, according to Sports Info Solutions. From 2018-22, though he was only healthy enough to play the field in 269 games, he posted 43 DRS. We throw around the word 'elite' too lightly, these days, but that's truly the echelon on which Buxton's defense belonged for years. Alas, that might be starting to change. After being confined to DH duty in 2023, Buxton was able to return to center in 2024, and he stayed relatively healthy. In 94 games, however, he was only worth 2 DRS—and digging deeper into the numbers reveals some systematic weaknesses. Source: The Fielding Bible Notice the extreme degradation of Buxton's performance on deep balls. Buxton was 38 plays better than an average center fielder on such batted balls from 2015-22, but when he came back last year, he didn't come all the way back. Suddenly, he was below-average when the ball was hit over his head. Now 31 years old, Buxton has clearly lost a step—not in terms of top speed, but in the rapidity with which he can reach it. At times (and not unreasonably), it looked like Buxton was also thinking about self-preservation on balls hit back to the warning track or the wall. On a trio of balls hit deep to the gaps in unfamiliar NL West parks last summer, Buxton tried to make plays with a smoother attack and a bit of deceleration near the wall, and he couldn't come up with the ball. MVlEUVJfWGw0TUFRPT1fQndRSFhGTUZWMUFBV2dCVVV3QUFBbEJRQUZnRFUxY0FBVkZVQ1FVRUExSlRCMUZY.mp4 You'd rather have Buxton not catch that ball (but hit the wall less hard, as he did) than risk the types of injuries (hip, shoulder, head, neck) he's suffered going just a bit faster and making such plays in the past. Still, it's jarring to see him not make plays like these. T1FkclJfWGw0TUFRPT1fQWdOVFZsSUFVMU1BQ0FjSEFBQUFDUWRYQUZoWEJsQUFVd2NEQ0ZBRUExRlJBRmNI.mp4 Again, the difference between what he did here and what he would have done in the past is subtle, but it's crucial—in two ways. Going a bit harder into the barrier is a good way to get banged-up, or worse. However, it's also the best way to catch balls like these, as Buxton spent the first half-decade of his career proving. Without his fearlessness, he's a bit like a falcon with a clipped wing. elo5eTdfWGw0TUFRPT1fQWdCUkIxSUJWVmNBRHdkV1VRQUFCd01GQUFOV0FGUUFBZ0FNQVZCVENBUlhBd05l.mp4 These were all examples drawn from parks where Buxton hasn't played much, though. Going back to the wall in such situations is always a bit of a nervous endeavor, and these few plays might be accounting for most of the difference you see above, in his numbers on deep balls. Unfortunately, there's a related but separate issue about which we also have to talk, looking at things through a different lens and orienting his pursuit of the ball differently. View full article

Two free-agent pitchers who (in different ways) closely match the value of Chris Paddack found new homes Monday evening. The deals should give us clarity about what the imposing Twins righty is worth as they try to clear his salary from the books. Image courtesy of © Bruce Kluckhohn-Imagn Images Within a couple hours of one another, right-handed hurlers Michael Lorenzen ($7 million, with $5.5 million paid in 2025 and $1.5 million as the buyout on a mutual option for 2026, with the Royals) and Chris Martin ($5.5 million, with the Rangers) signed one-year free-agent deals Monday. Lorenzen will, presumably, be a starter for the Royals, while Martin is a career reliever who took slightly less money than he was offered elsewhere in order to land close to home and pitch for Texas. Those were important moves for the Twins, because it's already Jan. 7, and they still need to clear at least a chunk of the $7.5 million they owe to Chris Paddack for 2025. Paddack is crowded out of the team's starting rotation (which consists, at the moment, of Pablo López, Bailey Ober, Joe Ryan, David Festa, and Simeon Woods Richardson, with Zebby Matthews and others waiting in the wings), and while he profiles better as a streamlined-repertoire reliever, the money the Twins owe him on the teams of the extension the two sides struck in early 2023 is more than they can afford to pay to fill a middle-relief role under their ownership-friendly budgetary constraints for the coming season. Thus, trading Paddack is the only sensible thing to do. Ideally, the Twins will spend some money to upgrade first base and their outfield mix, and to find a left-handed reliever to round out their bullpen, but as things stand, they have to move significant money just to hit the number set by the miserly Pohlad family. Waiting out the market a bit has given the Twins time to let demand and supply balance one another, but the Lorenzen and Martin deals have also given them some insight into what marginal value Paddack has on the trade market. That answer is blessedly simple, too, though not exciting: it's zero. Paddack is very close to equal in value to the likes of Lorenzen and Martin. The first run of Baseball Prospectus's PECOTA projections for 2025 list Lorenzen at a 111 DRA- (where 100 is average and lower is better); Paddack at 99, but in fewer innings; and Martin at 86, but in several fewer innings than Paddack. He's capable of either starting or relieving, but either way it breaks, one of his easiest comparators just signed—and they signed for almost exactly what he'll make in 2025. Unfortunately, that probably means that the Twins will have to kick in something whenever they trade Paddack. In theory, the implication of these deals would be that he could be traded straight-up for nothing, but that's not really how baseball transactions work. It's more likely, for reasons personal and logistical and on-field, that the Twins will trade Paddack and some amount of money to offset his salary for a player who addresses one of their needs, even if it be in a fairly unsatisfying way. They could always trade him for a couple of far-off prospects and simply attach $1-2 million, but that would leave them stuck: they still wouldn't have spending power, and their list of needs would not get shorter. Instead, we could see them attach $2-3 million and target a player like Sacramento's Hogan Harris or T.J. McFarland (two lefty relievers) or a similarly low-level bat. Paddack doesn't seem to have any marginal value, but these deals suggest that he is tradable. It will just have to take the form of patching a minor hole and achieving minor savings, rather than deriving any major value from the move. View full article

There are some important ways in which we've underrated the Twins' young utility man. It will only matter, though, if he has the courage to take a developmental leap of faith. Image courtesy of © Jesse Johnson-Imagn Images In 257 plate appearances during his rookie campaign of 2024, Austin Martin batted .253/.318/.352. He was a versatile stopgap for a team that encountered numerous injury issues, but he didn't exactly seize the chances he got. The stat line he posted could have been acceptable, had he been a solid defensive center fielder or left-side infield man, but in reality, he barely acquitted himself with the glove even in left field, and he was good (rather than great) at second base. Underpowered, he ended up with a glove-first player's offensive profile and a defensive role that demanded more of a bat-first talent. I did have a bunch of fun with the statistical quirk of Martin coming around to score practically every time he reached base, back in early August, but by season's end, he was within a hair's breadth of average in terms of actual baserunning value. He wasn't a very good player, really—not in his first trip around the circuit. He managed just one home run, and 20 total extra-base hits. He pulled the ball some, and he hit some line drives, but he didn't truly elevate much, and he didn't the ball very hard. Let's get happy for a minute, though, before drilling more into his biggest weakness. The good news is, Martin made better swing decisions than almost anyone in baseball in his rookie year. According to Statcast, his swing rate was nearly 70% in the strike zone and just 18.4% outside it. That's remarkably good plate discipline; it means he's neither giving pitchers free strikes nor helping them out when they can't find the plate. Looking at the specific places where he swung, you can see how he generated so many batted balls at line-drive launch angles, too. He knew what he was looking for, and was excellent at seizing upon it when it came. Martin was also quite good at making contact within the strike zone. He wanted that ball up and over the middle or inner third of the plate, and he missed a bit more often if you hit your spots low and away, but he was no easy punchout. Combine these traits, and Martin was quite good in terms of strikeout and walk rate, especially for a guy just getting his feet beneath him. He fanned in just 18.3% of his trips to the plate, in a league striking out almost 23% of the time, and he walked in 7.8% of those plate appearances—despite pitchers filling up the zone to the tune of a 52.9% share of all pitches, against a league average of 48.7%. If hitting were all about knowing when to swing and finding the ball with the bat when you do, Martin would have been an All-Star. That's now what hitting is all about, these days. View full article