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A recent report in The Athletic, which reads more like an off-hand comment than a groundbreaking revelation, purports that the Twins have expressed interest in RHP Michael Wacha.
Now, “expressed interest” is a favorite baseball term that can loosely define every style of relationship a team can have with a player. Thad Levine vaguely dreaming about Wacha could lead to the team “expressing interest.” The Phillies have “expressed interest” in Mike Trout for a decade. The term means nothing.
The connection makes sense, though. The Twins have yet to sign a major-league pitcher; Wacha is an arm capable of accruing outs between reasonable levels of runs scoring. With a bunch of theoretical payroll space and Carlos Correa probably still signing with the Mets, the Twins should spend their money on something. It’s a perfect pairing. 
But we’ve been down this path before. J.A. Happ, Matt Shoemaker, Dylan Bundy, and Chris Archer are four other arms who once possessed some nebulous upside, enough to convince a professional franchise to pay them money for their pitching labor. What happened after those players signed is well-known; we don’t have to tread that path again.
Wacha is his own man, though; it would be unfair—and illogical—to believe he would match those past pitcher’s sins just because he loosely fits their outline. The Red Sox, Mets, and Rays, teams run by baseball people far brighter than us casuals, looked at Wacha, glanced at his numbers, and believed in him enough to guarantee millions of dollars to the former Cardinal standout. These weren’t teams chasing a false promise; they fairly gambled that, with a few alterations, Wacha could provide enough production to bring their franchise value. 
The bet didn’t work for the Mets or Rays, but it worked enough for the Red Sox that one could generously declare their deal a success. 
So, Wacha could do the same for Minnesota; that possibility remains tangible. The issue is a baseball-specific sunk cost fallacy mixed with classic roster manipulation. Those past deals—beyond turning sour as each pitcher failed to play well—failed because the Twins continued to send those arms out to die. Bundy inhaled 140 real major-league innings. He’ll now slither into baseball obscurity on a minor-league deal with *insert team here.* Or he’ll become an ace. Baseball is funny like that.
The Twins told Bundy to go get 'em so often because, well, they were paying him $4 million, and people like seeing a return on their investment, but also because of flexibility. Or, rather, a lack of it. In a naturally conservative institution like baseball, hitting the eject button on a player is a nearly unalterable act. Without those tasty minor-league options, a franchise has to sneak a player by other teams, hoping that no one notices that a capable arm is now free for anyone to acquire. When that fails because the Diamondbacks need someone to throw slop for them, the team takes a vicious hit to their depth. So Bundy stays because he’s somewhat usable.
In that sense, Bundy is useful; every team unwillingly hands out innings to players they’d prefer to avoid starting—hopefully, Adam Wilk is enjoying life. It’s the nature of pitching. But Bundy also blocks others. Louie Varland remains in the minors because Bundy isn’t terrible; he certainly earned a few victories for the Twins, but is he so much better than Varland that the Twins should eschew the youngster in favor of the veteran?
This was the essential issue of the 2022 Twins; no one was truly horrifyingly bad, but instead existed in a mediocre haven, making it difficult for the team ever to cut bait. At least Shoemaker made it clear he was cooked. 
Wacha is probably not better than Varland; that’s the article. If you sign a pitcher with a good chance at being below-average—and without disrespect, Wacha fits that mold—you create fake depth; at least Varland can go to St. Paul if he starts pitching poorly. With Wacha, you just have to grin and bear it, only cutting bait once he reaches unforgivable status. Or, in Twins shorthand, if he “Shoemakers” it.
 
 

First, a quick recap of the events leading up to this point. On December 13th, Carlos Correa reached agreement with the San Francisco Giants on a 13-year, $350 million contract. It would've ranked as the second-largest for any free agent in MLB history.
Alas, it was not to be. 
Just before it was scheduled to take place, the Giants postponed a press conference to make the deal official, citing concerns raised in Correa's physical. Scott Boras balked at the request and quickly returned to the market, rushing into an overnight agreement with Steve Cohen and the New York Mets for 12 years and $315 million.
Soon after, we learned that Correa's agreement with Mets was ALSO in question, because their medical staff ran into similar concerns as San Francisco when going through a physical. The point of contention allegedly relates to an old ankle injury from 2014 -- controversial in that it hasn't affected him on the field in nine years since, but is evidently raising red flags for long-term risk. 
Reports of the Mets' concerns generally came with the caveat that New York and Correa were expected to work through the issue and ultimately agree on a deal. Alas, three days later -- albeit with a holiday break mixed in -- the two sides have yet to settle on agreeable terms.
Meanwhile, it sounds as if confidence is waning, at least somewhat. A column from Mike Puma in the New York Post on Monday indicates that while there is "optimism a deal can still be completed," that optimism could hardly be described as emphatic, with "one source on Monday placing the likelihood at 55 percent that the two sides find common ground." 
Correa "isn’t open to restructuring the length or financial terms of the contract," according to Puma. 
The question now bouncing around every Twins fan's mind is: what does the other 45 percent side of this scenario look like? If Correa's deal with New York fizzles, where do he and Boras go? Back to the Giants? Re-engage the Twins? Connect with an outside suitor, as they did originally with the Mets?
Puma reports that "at least three teams have been in contact with Correa’s camp in recent days," and the Twins are presumably among them. The team's stance, at last check, was that they remained open to sticking with their original offer of 10 years and $285 million, but only under the condition they could review his medical situation and feel comfortable with what they saw.
Theoretically that conversation could fire back up as Correa and Boras push to complete a deal and put an end this two-year free agent odyssey once and for all. 
The thing I can't quite get past is this: If two of the most impulsive and free-spending owners/franchises in baseball are unwilling to go 13 or 12 years with Correa based on what they've seen with a deeper look, what are the chances that one of the shrewdest and least impulsive will go 10 or more? 
Can we really conceive that the Twins -- mired in a litany of pivotal health questions as they already are -- will emerge the winners in what's quickly becoming one of the most prominently publicized high-risk ventures in the history of free agency? Do we even honestly believe they should?
At the same time, I can't stop circling back to another burning question: If ever there was a series of events that was going to play out and give the Twins a serious chance to "get creative" and sign a deal that is legitimately within their targeted range ... this would seem to be it, right?