Lucas Seehafer PT

The anterior cruciate ligament, or ACL, is one of the most important structures in the knee as it pertains to athletics. It’s a robust structure comprised primarily of collagen—the compound that gives ligaments and tendons their strength and elasticity—that stabilizes the knee. When the ACL is compromised—either by a partial tear or a complete rupture—the knee becomes much more unstable, particularly with rotation and highly-athletic movements such as cutting and jumping.

During a typical ACL reconstruction procedure, a portion of the athlete’s patellar or hamstring tendon is removed and inserted into the femur (i.e. thigh bone) and tibia (i.e. shin bone) in the location where the ligament was originally located. Over the span of 9-12 months, the tendon transforms structurally until it resembles a ligament—a process known as ligamentization—and the athlete gradually rehabs until they are strong enough to return to play. The majority of athletes will go on to rebound to their prior levels of success and will continue on with their careers without a hitch. But depending on the sport and type of tendon graft utilized, upwards of 6-31% will go on to either re-tear their ACL or rupture the one in their other knee. Such was the case, unfortunately, for Lewis.

The reasons why ACL re-tear rates are so high are myriad, complex, and up for debate. However, one theory that has rise to prominence over the last handful of years involves the compromise of the anterolateral ligament (ALL).

In terms of anatomical discoveries, the ALL is much like that of Big Foot, except if Big Foot was actually real. The ligament was first described in the 1870s by a French surgeon, but was not officially recognized as actually existing as an isolated structure until the early 2010s. While the ACL is the primary stabilizer against rotation in the knee, the ALL is believed to hold a role in rotational stabilization as well. It has been theorized that the ALL likely ruptures along with the ACL and that individuals who do not have their ALL repaired will continue to suffer from some rotational instability in the knee and, thus, be at a greater risk for re-injury.

Now, I don’t know for sure that this is exactly what happened with regard to Lewis. And, frankly, it doesn’t really matter. Subsequent ACL injuries aren’t uncommon. An athlete, surgeon, rehab team, front office, and coaching staff can “do everything right” and ACL re-injuries can still happen. Such is the unfortunate nature of sport.

But what we do know is that the surgery team in Dallas “basically, [did] something with the IT band,” according to Lewis to help “brace” his knee and improve its stability. The “something” he is likely referring to is known as a lateral tenodesis.

The IT band is a long, thick tendinous structure that runs from the hip to just below the knee. It’s most commonly known as a structure that gives long distance runners one heck of a time if they don’t remain flexible, but it also serves as a key attachment point for various lower extremity muscles and assists in moving the leg. 

Due to its inherent strength, it serves as a good candidate for a graft during ACL reconstruction. Additionally, the lower portion of the IT band can be surgically relocated (i.e. tenodesis) to provide rotational stability. In short, the IT band takes over for the compromised ALL to provide extra rotational stability for the knee. 

The long-term outcomes for this procedure in the athletic population, and specifically the MLB population, is unknown, but theoretically it should allow Lewis to return to play with greater stability in the knee. The recovery will still take 9-12 months, but the procedure should not reduce Lewis’s speed or power much beyond the natural regression that is expected with aging. Baseball is a fairly linear sport, which reduces the potential impact of multiple ACL surgeries on performance compared to a sport like basketball that relies on quick pivots, explosive jumping, and constant running to be successful.
 

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

Both the Giants and Mets reportedly did not like what they saw on MRI and physical examination regarding his surgically-repaired ankle that he fractured when he was 19 years old and in the minor leagues. What exactly was seen hasn’t been reported, but generally speaking, there are only a couple of pathologies—such as arthritis—that could result in the teams’ physicians taking the stance they did. I do not have inside information on Correa’s condition and this is only educated speculation on my part. (For what it’s worth, the Twins’ doctors were also aware of the status of Correa’s ankle and felt confident enough in its structure to hand out a multi-hundred million dollar deal.)
The stench of the Giants’ and Mets’ findings resulted in Correa losing $150 million from what was originally promised to him, a fact that must sting deep within his core. Correa’s agent, Scott Boras, implied that the interpretation of the MRI his client underwent was the primary instigator behind his struggles to land with a team.
“[T]his scenario is about a large separation in the orthopedic community about functional fitness and clinical exam versus looking at an MRI,” Boras said during Correa’s introductory press conference. “It is a dramatic chasm between how some doctors feel and how other doctors feel about the longevity of a player’s performance.”
Boras is right on the money. Many doctors—particularly orthopedic doctors—subscribe to what is known as the biomedical model. To boil it down simply, the biomedical model believes that health is defined by the absence of pathology. To apply it to Correa, his ankle cannot be healthy because something was found on MRI; in other words, the ankle is something to be concerned about moving forward. 
In many ways, the biomedical model of health is logical, which is why it was so heavily adopted by doctors, particularly in the United States, upon its introduction. However, logic and the body don’t always mesh well. 
Let’s take MRIs for example. MRIs—which stand for magnetic resonance imaging—are wonderful for diagnosing soft tissue injuries, both those that are acute or chronic in nature. If an athlete tears their ACL or strains their hamstring, the extent and exact location of the damage is often determined by MRI.
However, some in the field of orthopedics use what is found on MRI as a way to predict what will happen in the future. The thinking goes something like this: “Well, that individual has a tear in their meniscus. It may not bother them now, but it will in the future, so we better take care of it now.”
Again, this is a perspective based in logic. Damaged tissue or bone is “not normal” (i.e. pathological), the thought goes, and therefore must be remedied (i.e. turn the pathology back to health). However, over the decades, MRI’s ability to accurately predict future injury has been found to be dubious, at best. The meniscus tear or arthritis in the back don’t always come back to haunt the individual; sometimes they simply lay dormant, never causing disruption.
This isn’t logical and is a big reason why many in orthopedics—including myself, full disclosure—believe more in relying on past performance and abilities. “Functional fitness,” as Boras referred to it, is more concerned about “what have you done and what can you do” than “what could happen?”
Carlos Correa has never once gone on the injured list nor has he ever missed time due to ankle pain over the last decade. He has accumulated 32.3 fWAR, won a Platinum Glove, and is on pace to finish his career as a Hall of Famer. Sure, he may have some arthritis and/or some metal in his ankle, but it’s never impacted his ability to perform. Why all of a sudden should we think it will now or anytime in the future?
“One thing I learned throughout the whole process is that doctors have a difference of opinions,” Correa said during his press conference. “I had a lot of doctors tell me I was fine and I had some who said I wasn’t so fine.”
That is really all that Correa’s rollercoaster offseason boils down to. We like to think that medicine is a completely objective field. Players undergo tests, the results are read, and a decision is made. However, much of orthopedics—and especially physical exams—contain a fair amount of subjectivity.
Doctors often have differing opinions; that’s why second opinions exist (and aren’t called second “facts”). The Giants and Mets clearly had a larger issue with Correa’s ankle than the Twins, but that doesn’t inherently mean that the Twins are wrong (or, to be fair, does it mean they are inherently right).
An additional factor in play during Correa’s free agency discussions, it should be noted, was the sheer volume of his potential contracts and the ability for a team to insure such a deal. Suffice it to say, either the Giants or the Mets could have gotten their deals with Correa insured with relatively little issue. (The Twins did, after all.) However, what both teams seemingly did was use Correa’s MRI findings to justify backing out of their agreement and offer something more paltry in return.
The Mets took it even a step further. Their final offer to Correa was a six-year deal for $157.5 million, exactly half of their original, with multiple non-guaranteed years contingent on him passing a yearly physical. Additionally, according to USA Today's Bob Nightengale, they employed the opinion from the exact same orthopedic doctor as the Giants. (Said Boras, "I don’t understand the Mets. I gave them all of the information. We had them talk to four doctors. They knew the issue the Giants had. And yet, they still call the same doctor the Giants used for his opinion. There was no new information. So why negotiate a contract if you were going to rely on the same doctor?") As Aaron Gleeman, John Bonnes, and Dan Hayes discussed astutely in a recent Gleeman and the Geek Patreon podcast, why would Correa agree to such a deal, especially after experiencing firsthand the Mets’ physical exam process?
At the end of the day, the Mets, and to perhaps a lesser extent the Giants, tried to utilize Correa’s body against him in the name of saving money. What is particularly egregious is that the Mets knew full well that they may see something upon exam that they did not like. They agreed to sign him for 12 years and $315 million anyway, only to swiftly pull out the rug from underneath him.
It’s perfectly acceptable for doctors to approach a condition with different viewpoints and opinions. However, the case of Carlos Correa exposed the potential impact differences of opinions—and perhaps outdated medical models—can have on an individual, especially when “just doing business” is involved.

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

In the late spring of 2019, as temperatures rose in Texas and the night skies over Arlington were peppered with little white dots, a once-heralded prospect made an astonishing imprint on the game of baseball. You’d be forgiven for assuming that the increased heat was due to normal seasonal changes and that the little white dots were simply the stars in and around the Milky Way galaxy.
No, both phenomenon were simply the result of Joey Gallo’s bat. Coming off back-to-back 40 home run seasons with a combined 114 wRC+, Gallo peppered the skies of the American League West with 22 home runs, often sending them into near orbit. He also elevated his triple slashline to a blistering .253/.389/.598 (.987) resulting in an MVP-esque 144 wRC+.
Gallo was on track to more than double his fWAR (3.2) from the previous two seasons combined (5.9), but while his star burned hot and bright that summer, it ultimately went supernova after only 70 games thanks to a fractured hamate bone in his right wrist. He did not appear in a another game that year.
Since his ill-fated 2019 campaign, Gallo has largely fallen back to earth. He was named to the American League All-Star team in 2021 before being shipped to the New York Yankees—an experience Gallo would later refer to as “rock bottom”—and registered a career-high 4.2 fWAR, but has yet to post an average above the Mendoza line or hit 40 home runs in a season over the last three years. 
Looking at the stats, it’s pretty easy to see why Gallo was so successful in 2019. It wasn’t because he was striking out less or walking more—his K% and BB% more or less stayed steady with his career numbers—nor was it because he was hitting the ball harder or adopting a new approach at the plate. The primary driver behind his success was a towering .368 BABIP, a value 43% higher than his career average. 
Suffice it to say that the odds of Gallo ever putting together another 70-game stretch similar to the one in 2019 are slim, but he doesn’t need to slash anywhere near .250/.390/.500 (.890) for a full season to find success with the Twins. (To be clear, if he did, Gallo would very likely be an MVP candidate.)
Despite owning the highest strikeout rate in MLB history, Gallo has been 10% better than league average by wRC+ thanks to a fairly discerning eye at the plate as well as the aforementioned otherworldly power. Simply put, Gallo is a land of contrasts. 
Last summer he ranked in the 1st percentile in strikeout rate and Whiff% but in the 95th percentile in walk rate, which is consistent with his career numbers. He is also unlikely to bite on offerings that Statcast refers to as chase and waste pitches. He patiently waits for his pitch with such aptitude that he is worth positive runs even though he is, at best, 70/30 to hit pitches in the zone. (The MLB average zone contact rate is 82.0%. Gallo’s career number is 67.4%.) 

Gallo is the definition of a three true outcomes player. A laughably outrageous 59% of his career plate appearances have ended as either a strikeout, walk, or home run. In that sense, Gallo is Miguel Sanó on steroids. (A mere 54% of Sanó’s plate appearances resulted in one of the outcomes.)
However, what separates Gallo from someone like Sanó—and why Gallo was the first of the two to sign a deal this offseason—is that he provides near elite defense in the outfield. Although he ranked in the 19th percentile in Outs Above Average last season, Gallo had consistently ranked in the top 25% of outfielders since 2017. He has a cannon for an arm, topping out on some throws near 95 mph, and has the ability to get a good jump on the ball. Defensively, Gallo isn’t all that far behind Max Kepler, an athlete who is considered to be among the best defensive corner outfielders in the game.
So, basically, the Twins signed a corner outfielder that projects to be an amalgamation of some degree of Miguel Sanó’s offense and Max Kepler’s defense, which is a player well-worth a one-year, $11 million gamble. Steamer, one of the projection systems published on FanGraphs, projects Gallo to slash .188/.313/.397 (.710) with 19 home runs in 102 games next summer. That would give him a 107 wRC+ and 1.1 fWAR, almost exactly a value of $11 million. 
The signing of Joey Gallo is not the type of move that cements a solid offseason for the Twins in isolation, but it does allow them to potentially be a little more aggressive on the trade market, particularly when dangling Kepler or perhaps Luis Arraez and/or Trevor Larnach. If the Twins are able to swap some of their existing pieces for impact starting pitching or a shortstop, the Gallo acquisition could be seen as a boon, especially since he has largely been able to remain healthy for his career. 
It’s also possible that Gallo never rebounds from his morbid 2022 and is DFA’d before the season ends. However, the bar is so low for his projected offensive performance and his defense is so reliably good that it would take quite the drop in production, perhaps even more so than last season, for the Twins to simply give up on him. 
 

Christian Vazquez has developed a reputation for being strong behind the plate, though the majority is due to his lightning quick ball exchange speed—0.67 seconds, tied for the second fastest in MLB in 2022—and solid pop time to second base—1.94 seconds, ranking in the 71st percentile.
What he isn’t as well-known for, though, is his pitch framing. 
The ability to steal strikes is a valuable asset for modern baseball teams. Stolen strikes add up over the course of a season and can contribute to opposing team’s scoring fewer runs. The median catcher framing runs saved last season was 0, an intuitive figure. (New York Yankees catcher Jose Trevino was the best pitch framer in baseball saving his team 17 runs. In contrast, Baltimore Orioles catcher Robinson Chirinos placed 60th out of 60 as he cost his team 14 runs.)
For the bulk of his career, Vazquez has graded out as a solidly above average pitch framer, with one season of elite performance. The last couple, however, he’s only been average. But there’s a reason. Below is an image depicting Vazquez’s framing performance since 2016. (Red squares are good, blue are bad.)

What stands out is that over the past four seasons, Vazquez has displayed good ability to steal strikes at the top of the zone; this is shown by the presence of red boxes in the columns corresponding to Zones 11, 12, and 13. This is good news for the likes of Joe Ryan, Tyler Mahle, and Bailey Ober, all of whom love to pound the upper zone with their fastballs.  
However, Vazquez isn’t as strong at stealing strikes on the corners; Zones 14 and 16, and to a less extent Zones 17 and 19. Although he started out strong early in his career, his ability to convert balls to strikes on the outer edges has fallen multiple seasons in a row and reached their nadir last summer. Bad news for Sonny Gray and Kenta Maeda, who tend to work more on the outer half of the plate.
Interestingly, though perhaps unsurprisingly, Ryan Jeffers has traditionally been slightly better at snagging the corners, but is by no means elite. (See the chart below.) Therefore, it wouldn’t be too surprising to see Vazquez catch Ryan, Mahle, and Ober while Jeffers gets Gray and Maeda. In this respect, Vazquez is a great platoon match with Jeffers despite both hitting from the right side of the plate.

What will be interesting to following during the 2023 season is how much of Vazquez's drop in production on the corners is something that can be adjusted. Is the difference between Jeffers and Vazquez simply rooted in organizational philosophy or is it something that is inherent in their skill sets?
Regardless, even if Vasquez remains simply slightly above average in the pitch framing department, his other defensive attributes and ability to put the ball in play regularly at the plate should provide a boon for the Twins. At $10 million annually, bringing on Vazquez was a prudent move by the front office. 
 

Okay, so maybe the premise of this story as portrayed above is a little click-baity and very off-seasony, but, at the very least, it’s worth considering, particularly as the rumor mill churns. 
Arraez’s exploits during the 2022 season are well-known among Twins fans. He won the team’s first A.L. batting title since Joe Mauer in 2009 and was named to his first All-Star team. He was also third on the team in fWAR trailing only Carlos Correa (4.4) and Byron Buxton (4.0), the two bona fide franchise cornerstone level players on the roster.
If you look up “Contact Hitter” in your nearest Merriam-Webster or dictionary of choice, the definition you’ll find is “Luis Arraez.” The Twins atypical first baseman/DH ranked in the 100th percentile in K% and Whiff% last summer according to Baseball Savant. For the analytically disinclined, essentially, Arraez is the corporeal form of “see ball, hit ball.”
But what Arraez is *not* is “see ball, hit ball hard and far.”  He ranked in the 7th percentile in HardHit%, 11th in barrel rate, and 48th in average exit velocity in 2022. Add in his height (5’10” according to Baseball Savant, which is…kind…at best) and Outs Above Average (15th percentile) and Arraez’s fit at first base long term should come into question. 
That, of course, isn’t a new discussion. When Arraez was first moved to first base out of necessity due to the calamity of injuries the team suffered all that was talked about was how weird it was to see him playing there and that it wasn’t likely his long term home. The issue, though, is that this conversation was happening *after* he had been ruled out as a second baseman (Polanco is the stronger option at the position and Arraez’s knees struggled to handle the load during his first three seasons), third baseman (*remembers that one series in Oakland*), or outfielder (WOOF). 
In all reality, the Twins’ only option to keep Arraez’s bat in the lineup everyday was to either place him at first base or DH, which ultimately accounted for nearly 75% of his plate appearances. Despite his ability to rack up hits, Arraez graded out as a merely above average first baseman and a top-tier DH in many important statistical categories. Below is how he ranked among qualified position players—both A.L. and N.L.—last season. 

I can hear many of you saying, “Uh, isn’t being 'merely above average and top tier' a good thing?” and, rest assured, it is! But here’s the crux of my argument: There’s a good chance that Luis Arraez’s 2022 campaign was the embodiment of the peak of his powers.
Arraez is young and possesses elite bat to ball skills. He will likely grade out as an above average hitter for the bulk of his career. But his ceiling can only be so high as long as he’s chained to either first base defensively or DH and/or not winning batting titles. Any negative deviation from his 2022 output and Arraez will likely only grade out as average offensively at either position.
For instance, here is how Arraez ranked among the positions listed above during 2021, a merely good season by his standards. 

Oofda. (While Arraez's DH numbers look alright, it should be noted that only 12 players qualified as full-time DHs in 2021 compared to 16 in 2022, according to FanGraphs.) 
One potential mitigation strategy Arraez could employ is trying to hit for more power. As shown in the charts above, his ISO falls well below average among qualified players at all four positions over the last two seasons. More home runs would not only lead to a better ISO but also to greater statistical values across the board, except for batting average, in all likelihood. (This can be seen in how much better Arraez graded out in 2022 compared to 2021. His jump from six career dingers to eight in one season was *the* reason why he was so valuable last summer.)
But hitting for more power—which would be an even greater increase than the increase he showed in 2022 (his 8 dingers brought him to 14 for his career)—would require a massive overhaul of Arraez’s approach at the plate, which isn’t impossible but highly unlikely.
As such, now may be the perfect time for the Twins to move the fan favorite, especially to a team like the Miami Marlins. Swapping him for higher-end starting pitching would not only bolster the Twins already deep, but low throttle starting rotation but also free up more space at DH for the likes of Buxton and first base for Alex Kirilloff. The big winner of an Arraez trade could be Royce Lewis—who may need a graded return following his second ACL reconstruction—or Edouard Julien—who may very well just be a French Canadian clone of Arraez with more pop.
Of course, holding onto Arraez is an entirely defensible position as well. But if there were ever a time to trade a reigning batting champ, now may just be the time for the Twins. At the very least, I’m sure Derek Falvey and Thad Levine are thinking real hard about whether or not doing so would be prudent.   

 

Okay, so maybe the premise of this story as portrayed above is a little click-baity and very off-seasony, but, at the very least, it’s worth considering, particularly as the rumor mill churns. 
Arraez’s exploits during the 2022 season are well-known among Twins fans. He won the team’s first A.L. batting title since Joe Mauer in 2009 and was named to his first All-Star team. He was also third on the team in fWAR trailing only Carlos Correa (4.4) and Byron Buxton (4.0), the two bona fide franchise cornerstone level players on the roster.
If you look up “Contact Hitter” in your nearest Merriam-Webster or dictionary of choice, the definition you’ll find is “Luis Arraez.” The Twins atypical first baseman/DH ranked in the 100th percentile in K% and Whiff% last summer according to Baseball Savant. For the analytically disinclined, essentially, Arraez is the corporeal form of “see ball, hit ball.”
But what Arraez is *not* is “see ball, hit ball hard and far.”  He ranked in the 7th percentile in HardHit%, 11th in barrel rate, and 48th in average exit velocity in 2022. Add in his height (5’10” according to Baseball Savant, which is…kind…at best) and Outs Above Average (15th percentile) and Arraez’s fit at first base long term should come into question. 
That, of course, isn’t a new discussion. When Arraez was first moved to first base out of necessity due to the calamity of injuries the team suffered all that was talked about was how weird it was to see him playing there and that it wasn’t likely his long term home. The issue, though, is that this conversation was happening *after* he had been ruled out as a second baseman (Polanco is the stronger option at the position and Arraez’s knees struggled to handle the load during his first three seasons), third baseman (*remembers that one series in Oakland*), or outfielder (WOOF). 
In all reality, the Twins’ only option to keep Arraez’s bat in the lineup everyday was to either place him at first base or DH, which ultimately accounted for nearly 75% of his plate appearances. Despite his ability to rack up hits, Arraez graded out as a merely above average first baseman and a top-tier DH in many important statistical categories. Below is how he ranked among qualified position players—both A.L. and N.L.—last season. 

I can hear many of you saying, “Uh, isn’t being 'merely above average and top tier' a good thing?” and, rest assured, it is! But here’s the crux of my argument: There’s a good chance that Luis Arraez’s 2022 campaign was the embodiment of the peak of his powers.
Arraez is young and possesses elite bat to ball skills. He will likely grade out as an above average hitter for the bulk of his career. But his ceiling can only be so high as long as he’s chained to either first base defensively or DH and/or not winning batting titles. Any negative deviation from his 2022 output and Arraez will likely only grade out as average offensively at either position.
For instance, here is how Arraez ranked among the positions listed above during 2021, a merely good season by his standards. 

Oofda. (While Arraez's DH numbers look alright, it should be noted that only 12 players qualified as full-time DHs in 2021 compared to 16 in 2022, according to FanGraphs.) 
One potential mitigation strategy Arraez could employ is trying to hit for more power. As shown in the charts above, his ISO falls well below average among qualified players at all four positions over the last two seasons. More home runs would not only lead to a better ISO but also to greater statistical values across the board, except for batting average, in all likelihood. (This can be seen in how much better Arraez graded out in 2022 compared to 2021. His jump from six career dingers to eight in one season was *the* reason why he was so valuable last summer.)
But hitting for more power—which would be an even greater increase than the increase he showed in 2022 (his 8 dingers brought him to 14 for his career)—would require a massive overhaul of Arraez’s approach at the plate, which isn’t impossible but highly unlikely.
As such, now may be the perfect time for the Twins to move the fan favorite, especially to a team like the Miami Marlins. Swapping him for higher-end starting pitching would not only bolster the Twins already deep, but low throttle starting rotation but also free up more space at DH for the likes of Buxton and first base for Alex Kirilloff. The big winner of an Arraez trade could be Royce Lewis—who may need a graded return following his second ACL reconstruction—or Edouard Julien—who may very well just be a French Canadian clone of Arraez with more pop.
Of course, holding onto Arraez is an entirely defensible position as well. But if there were ever a time to trade a reigning batting champ, now may just be the time for the Twins. At the very least, I’m sure Derek Falvey and Thad Levine are thinking real hard about whether or not doing so would be prudent.   

 

Jordan Balazovic was held to a mere 70 2/3 innings at the Triple-A level where he posted a mind-numbingly poor 7.39 ERA, by far the worst of his career. His peripheral numbers weren’t much better. Below is a comparison of how Balazovic has performed in many key stats over his last three seasons. (He didn’t pitch in 2020 due to the pandemic.)

Like many young arms with natural talent, Balazovic crushed the lower minors. However, as he ascended through the ranks, his performance has dipped, culminating in his forgettable 2022 season at Triple-A. It’s not uncommon for an individual’s stats to decline as he moves up the minor league ladder—each level consists of better and better players, after all—but Balazovic’s represent a relatively steep decline.
What stands out the most is the increase in hard contact he has surrendered, particularly last season. As he has only appeared in the minors, we don’t have publicly available Statcast data for Balazovic, but at a certain point average exit velocities and hard-hit percentages aren’t needed. His BABIP against has increased nearly 40%, while his line drive percentage has gone up 81% and his home runs per fly ball by a staggering 471% from High-A to Triple-A. In short, his pitches are getting hit harder and harder by better and better hitters.
Additionally, his walk rates have increased while his strikeout rates have simultaneously dropped from 2019 to 2022. Balazovic has never been one to have pinpoint command despite respectable strikeout numbers (see his K-BB%), and that lack of command has become more troublesome as the opposing batters’ patience has improved at each level. It would be interesting to see his opposing batter chase and whiff rates at all three levels—almost assuredly they would both decrease—but that data isn’t publicly available.
So that belies the question: What can Balazovic due to improve his stuff and get back on the top prospect hype train?
Well, I don’t know. At least not entirely. Pitching is a complex endeavor, both mentally and physically, so rarely is there a simple answer. But I do have a few ideas that my be helpful.
Potential Option #1: Increase elbow flexion at foot plant
This is something that the team of biomechanics wizards at Driveline has looked into quite a bit. Elbow flexion is measured by the degree of bend at the elbow. A fully extended elbow would have 0 degrees of flexion while a fully flexed elbow—biomechanically impossible—would be 180 degrees. Driveline has found that, on average, their most elite pitchers (i.e. fastest throwers) achieve 107 degrees of elbow flexion when the foot of their lead leg hits the ground. 

As seen in the picture above, Balazovic frequently fails to reach beyond 90 degrees of flexion, and at times seemingly doesn’t even reach 90 degrees. (Granted, it’s difficult to say with 100 percent certainty from the behind-the-mound camera angle, but this is the best option available to the public.)
Potential Option #2: Decrease posterior trunk lean (i.e. extension) at foot plant
Another Driveline favorite. They have found that most elite pitchers that train with them have, on average, negative 10 degrees of anterior trunk lean at foot plant. In English, that means that the best-of-the-best pitchers generally bend backwards slightly when their foot hits the ground. It’s difficult to put an angle on Balazovic without biomechanics tracking software, but eyeballing it, it seems as though he frequently leans too far back at foot plant. This can contribute to a number of flaws during the throwing motion, particularly making the arm “drag” behind, decreasing command.
Potential Option #3: Increase knee extension power throughout arm swing
All pitchers land with a certain degree of knee flexion (i.e. knee bend) at foot plant. The pitchers who through hardest are able to forcefully extend (i.e. straighten) the knee as they thrust their pitching arm forward. This creates a rigid lever that increases torque and, thus, pitch velocity. 
Last season, Balazovic seemingly struggled with this. Perhaps of note, his lead leg is his left and he was reportedly dealing with left knee discomfort all season. It’s possible that the lingering pain caused him to diminish his knee extension after foot plant, impacting his velocity and command.
Potential Option #4: Increase efficient separation between his trunk and pelvis
Watch the video below. The first frame resulted in a ball while the next three were strikes. See if you can parse a difference between Balazovic’s trunk and pelvis between the three pictures.
balazovic 1.mov
 Ok, now here’s a video with my notes.
balazovic 2.mov
When Balazovic is able to get his hips pointing toward the plate at foot plant, he’s able to efficiently rotate his torso and throw strikes. When he isn’t his arm lags behind and the result is more often than not a ball. 
In short, in order for Balazovic to improve and become a solid MLB pitcher, I would argue that he needs to not only tighten up his mechanics but improve his motion's consistency. His windup consists of many long levers and moving parts, both of which serve to reduce consistency (and, theoretically increase strain on the low back; he's struggled with back pain at time during his brief career). The options I've laid out above may help accomplish the opposite. 
 

Jordan Balazovic was held to a mere 70 2/3 innings at the Triple-A level where he posted a mind-numbingly poor 7.39 ERA, by far the worst of his career. His peripheral numbers weren’t much better. Below is a comparison of how Balazovic has performed in many key stats over his last three seasons. (He didn’t pitch in 2020 due to the pandemic.)

Like many young arms with natural talent, Balazovic crushed the lower minors. However, as he ascended through the ranks, his performance has dipped, culminating in his forgettable 2022 season at Triple-A. It’s not uncommon for an individual’s stats to decline as he moves up the minor league ladder—each level consists of better and better players, after all—but Balazovic’s represent a relatively steep decline.
What stands out the most is the increase in hard contact he has surrendered, particularly last season. As he has only appeared in the minors, we don’t have publicly available Statcast data for Balazovic, but at a certain point average exit velocities and hard-hit percentages aren’t needed. His BABIP against has increased nearly 40%, while his line drive percentage has gone up 81% and his home runs per fly ball by a staggering 471% from High-A to Triple-A. In short, his pitches are getting hit harder and harder by better and better hitters.
Additionally, his walk rates have increased while his strikeout rates have simultaneously dropped from 2019 to 2022. Balazovic has never been one to have pinpoint command despite respectable strikeout numbers (see his K-BB%), and that lack of command has become more troublesome as the opposing batters’ patience has improved at each level. It would be interesting to see his opposing batter chase and whiff rates at all three levels—almost assuredly they would both decrease—but that data isn’t publicly available.
So that belies the question: What can Balazovic due to improve his stuff and get back on the top prospect hype train?
Well, I don’t know. At least not entirely. Pitching is a complex endeavor, both mentally and physically, so rarely is there a simple answer. But I do have a few ideas that my be helpful.
Potential Option #1: Increase elbow flexion at foot plant
This is something that the team of biomechanics wizards at Driveline has looked into quite a bit. Elbow flexion is measured by the degree of bend at the elbow. A fully extended elbow would have 0 degrees of flexion while a fully flexed elbow—biomechanically impossible—would be 180 degrees. Driveline has found that, on average, their most elite pitchers (i.e. fastest throwers) achieve 107 degrees of elbow flexion when the foot of their lead leg hits the ground. 

As seen in the picture above, Balazovic frequently fails to reach beyond 90 degrees of flexion, and at times seemingly doesn’t even reach 90 degrees. (Granted, it’s difficult to say with 100 percent certainty from the behind-the-mound camera angle, but this is the best option available to the public.)
Potential Option #2: Decrease posterior trunk lean (i.e. extension) at foot plant
Another Driveline favorite. They have found that most elite pitchers that train with them have, on average, negative 10 degrees of anterior trunk lean at foot plant. In English, that means that the best-of-the-best pitchers generally bend backwards slightly when their foot hits the ground. It’s difficult to put an angle on Balazovic without biomechanics tracking software, but eyeballing it, it seems as though he frequently leans too far back at foot plant. This can contribute to a number of flaws during the throwing motion, particularly making the arm “drag” behind, decreasing command.
Potential Option #3: Increase knee extension power throughout arm swing
All pitchers land with a certain degree of knee flexion (i.e. knee bend) at foot plant. The pitchers who through hardest are able to forcefully extend (i.e. straighten) the knee as they thrust their pitching arm forward. This creates a rigid lever that increases torque and, thus, pitch velocity. 
Last season, Balazovic seemingly struggled with this. Perhaps of note, his lead leg is his left and he was reportedly dealing with left knee discomfort all season. It’s possible that the lingering pain caused him to diminish his knee extension after foot plant, impacting his velocity and command.
Potential Option #4: Increase efficient separation between his trunk and pelvis
Watch the video below. The first frame resulted in a ball while the next three were strikes. See if you can parse a difference between Balazovic’s trunk and pelvis between the three pictures.
balazovic 1.mov
 Ok, now here’s a video with my notes.
balazovic 2.mov
When Balazovic is able to get his hips pointing toward the plate at foot plant, he’s able to efficiently rotate his torso and throw strikes. When he isn’t his arm lags behind and the result is more often than not a ball. 
In short, in order for Balazovic to improve and become a solid MLB pitcher, I would argue that he needs to not only tighten up his mechanics but improve his motion's consistency. His windup consists of many long levers and moving parts, both of which serve to reduce consistency (and, theoretically increase strain on the low back; he's struggled with back pain at time during his brief career). The options I've laid out above may help accomplish the opposite. 
 

Jordan Balazovic was held to a mere 70 2/3 innings at the Triple-A level where he posted a mind-numbingly poor 7.39 ERA, by far the worst of his career. His peripheral numbers weren’t much better. Below is a comparison of how Balazovic has performed in many key stats over his last three seasons. (He didn’t pitch in 2020 due to the pandemic.)

Like many young arms with natural talent, Balazovic crushed the lower minors. However, as he ascended through the ranks, his performance has dipped, culminating in his forgettable 2022 season at Triple-A. It’s not uncommon for an individual’s stats to decline as he moves up the minor league ladder—each level consists of better and better players, after all—but Balazovic’s represent a relatively steep decline.
What stands out the most is the increase in hard contact he has surrendered, particularly last season. As he has only appeared in the minors, we don’t have publicly available Statcast data for Balazovic, but at a certain point average exit velocities and hard-hit percentages aren’t needed. His BABIP against has increased nearly 40%, while his line drive percentage has gone up 81% and his home runs per fly ball by a staggering 471% from High-A to Triple-A. In short, his pitches are getting hit harder and harder by better and better hitters.
Additionally, his walk rates have increased while his strikeout rates have simultaneously dropped from 2019 to 2022. Balazovic has never been one to have pinpoint command despite respectable strikeout numbers (see his K-BB%), and that lack of command has become more troublesome as the opposing batters’ patience has improved at each level. It would be interesting to see his opposing batter chase and whiff rates at all three levels—almost assuredly they would both decrease—but that data isn’t publicly available.
So that belies the question: What can Balazovic due to improve his stuff and get back on the top prospect hype train?
Well, I don’t know. At least not entirely. Pitching is a complex endeavor, both mentally and physically, so rarely is there a simple answer. But I do have a few ideas that my be helpful.
Potential Option #1: Increase elbow flexion at foot plant
This is something that the team of biomechanics wizards at Driveline has looked into quite a bit. Elbow flexion is measured by the degree of bend at the elbow. A fully extended elbow would have 0 degrees of flexion while a fully flexed elbow—biomechanically impossible—would be 180 degrees. Driveline has found that, on average, their most elite pitchers (i.e. fastest throwers) achieve 107 degrees of elbow flexion when the foot of their lead leg hits the ground. 

As seen in the picture above, Balazovic frequently fails to reach beyond 90 degrees of flexion, and at times seemingly doesn’t even reach 90 degrees. (Granted, it’s difficult to say with 100 percent certainty from the behind-the-mound camera angle, but this is the best option available to the public.)
Potential Option #2: Decrease posterior trunk lean (i.e. extension) at foot plant
Another Driveline favorite. They have found that most elite pitchers that train with them have, on average, negative 10 degrees of anterior trunk lean at foot plant. In English, that means that the best-of-the-best pitchers generally bend backwards slightly when their foot hits the ground. It’s difficult to put an angle on Balazovic without biomechanics tracking software, but eyeballing it, it seems as though he frequently leans too far back at foot plant. This can contribute to a number of flaws during the throwing motion, particularly making the arm “drag” behind, decreasing command.
Potential Option #3: Increase knee extension power throughout arm swing
All pitchers land with a certain degree of knee flexion (i.e. knee bend) at foot plant. The pitchers who through hardest are able to forcefully extend (i.e. straighten) the knee as they thrust their pitching arm forward. This creates a rigid lever that increases torque and, thus, pitch velocity. 
Last season, Balazovic seemingly struggled with this. Perhaps of note, his lead leg is his left and he was reportedly dealing with left knee discomfort all season. It’s possible that the lingering pain caused him to diminish his knee extension after foot plant, impacting his velocity and command.
Potential Option #4: Increase efficient separation between his trunk and pelvis
Watch the video below. The first frame resulted in a ball while the next three were strikes. See if you can parse a difference between Balazovic’s trunk and pelvis between the three pictures.
balazovic 1.mov
 Ok, now here’s a video with my notes.
balazovic 2.mov
When Balazovic is able to get his hips pointing toward the plate at foot plant, he’s able to efficiently rotate his torso and throw strikes. When he isn’t his arm lags behind and the result is more often than not a ball. 
In short, in order for Balazovic to improve and become a solid MLB pitcher, I would argue that he needs to not only tighten up his mechanics but improve his motion's consistency. His windup consists of many long levers and moving parts, both of which serve to reduce consistency (and, theoretically increase strain on the low back; he's struggled with back pain at time during his brief career). The options I've laid out above may help accomplish the opposite. 
 

Jordan Balazovic was held to a mere 70 2/3 innings at the Triple-A level where he posted a mind-numbingly poor 7.39 ERA, by far the worst of his career. His peripheral numbers weren’t much better. Below is a comparison of how Balazovic has performed in many key stats over his last three seasons. (He didn’t pitch in 2020 due to the pandemic.)

Like many young arms with natural talent, Balazovic crushed the lower minors. However, as he ascended through the ranks, his performance has dipped, culminating in his forgettable 2022 season at Triple-A. It’s not uncommon for an individual’s stats to decline as he moves up the minor league ladder—each level consists of better and better players, after all—but Balazovic’s represent a relatively steep decline.
What stands out the most is the increase in hard contact he has surrendered, particularly last season. As he has only appeared in the minors, we don’t have publicly available Statcast data for Balazovic, but at a certain point average exit velocities and hard-hit percentages aren’t needed. His BABIP against has increased nearly 40%, while his line drive percentage has gone up 81% and his home runs per fly ball by a staggering 471% from High-A to Triple-A. In short, his pitches are getting hit harder and harder by better and better hitters.
Additionally, his walk rates have increased while his strikeout rates have simultaneously dropped from 2019 to 2022. Balazovic has never been one to have pinpoint command despite respectable strikeout numbers (see his K-BB%), and that lack of command has become more troublesome as the opposing batters’ patience has improved at each level. It would be interesting to see his opposing batter chase and whiff rates at all three levels—almost assuredly they would both decrease—but that data isn’t publicly available.
So that belies the question: What can Balazovic due to improve his stuff and get back on the top prospect hype train?
Well, I don’t know. At least not entirely. Pitching is a complex endeavor, both mentally and physically, so rarely is there a simple answer. But I do have a few ideas that my be helpful.
Potential Option #1: Increase elbow flexion at foot plant
This is something that the team of biomechanics wizards at Driveline has looked into quite a bit. Elbow flexion is measured by the degree of bend at the elbow. A fully extended elbow would have 0 degrees of flexion while a fully flexed elbow—biomechanically impossible—would be 180 degrees. Driveline has found that, on average, their most elite pitchers (i.e. fastest throwers) achieve 107 degrees of elbow flexion when the foot of their lead leg hits the ground. 

As seen in the picture above, Balazovic frequently fails to reach beyond 90 degrees of flexion, and at times seemingly doesn’t even reach 90 degrees. (Granted, it’s difficult to say with 100 percent certainty from the behind-the-mound camera angle, but this is the best option available to the public.)
Potential Option #2: Decrease posterior trunk lean (i.e. extension) at foot plant
Another Driveline favorite. They have found that most elite pitchers that train with them have, on average, negative 10 degrees of anterior trunk lean at foot plant. In English, that means that the best-of-the-best pitchers generally bend backwards slightly when their foot hits the ground. It’s difficult to put an angle on Balazovic without biomechanics tracking software, but eyeballing it, it seems as though he frequently leans too far back at foot plant. This can contribute to a number of flaws during the throwing motion, particularly making the arm “drag” behind, decreasing command.
Potential Option #3: Increase knee extension power throughout arm swing
All pitchers land with a certain degree of knee flexion (i.e. knee bend) at foot plant. The pitchers who through hardest are able to forcefully extend (i.e. straighten) the knee as they thrust their pitching arm forward. This creates a rigid lever that increases torque and, thus, pitch velocity. 
Last season, Balazovic seemingly struggled with this. Perhaps of note, his lead leg is his left and he was reportedly dealing with left knee discomfort all season. It’s possible that the lingering pain caused him to diminish his knee extension after foot plant, impacting his velocity and command.
Potential Option #4: Increase efficient separation between his trunk and pelvis
Watch the video below. The first frame resulted in a ball while the next three were strikes. See if you can parse a difference between Balazovic’s trunk and pelvis between the three pictures.
balazovic 1.mov
 Ok, now here’s a video with my notes.
balazovic 2.mov
When Balazovic is able to get his hips pointing toward the plate at foot plant, he’s able to efficiently rotate his torso and throw strikes. When he isn’t his arm lags behind and the result is more often than not a ball. 
In short, in order for Balazovic to improve and become a solid MLB pitcher, I would argue that he needs to not only tighten up his mechanics but improve his motion's consistency. His windup consists of many long levers and moving parts, both of which serve to reduce consistency (and, theoretically increase strain on the low back; he's struggled with back pain at time during his brief career). The options I've laid out above may help accomplish the opposite. 
 

TWINS DAILY MINOR LEAGUE AWARDS
Starting Pitcher of the Year
Relief Pitcher of the Year
Hitter of the Year 
SAINTS SENTINEL
St. Paul 4, Indianapolis 1
Box Score
The Saints were able to come away with a win Friday night in Indiana behind a stellar pitching performance by Dereck Rodriguez. Rodriguez tossed five scoreless innings and allowed only one hit while walking three and striking out four. 
At the plate, third baseman Andrew Bechtold led the way, going 2-for-4 with a home run. Michael Helman (1-for-5, RBI) and John Andreoli (1-for-3, 2 RBI) also hit home runs. 
PROSPECT SUMMARY
We will again keep tabs on the Twins top prospects. You’ll probably read about them in the team sections, but if they aren’t there, you’ll see how they did here. Here’s a look at how the current Twins Daily Top 20 performed:
#9 - Matt Wallner (Minnesota) - 0-for-1
#12 - Louie Varland (Minnesota) - 5 2/3 IP, 7 H, 3 R, 3 ER, 1 BB, 3 K
SATURDAY’S PROBABLE STARTERS
St. Paul @ Indianapolis (5:35 PM CST) - RHP Ariel Jurado (2-2, 3.54 ERA)