Cleveland Sports Forum

MLB"s fastest teams rated by MLB.com:

3) Guardians

This makes sense, because how can you be everybody’s favorite speed-and-contact-and-pitching-and-defense team without the speed aspect of it? They were, as you’ll see below, 2022’s fastest team, which more than matches the eye test, and they’ll remain pretty close to the top this year, in part because they’re expected to give so much playing time to Amed Rosario, Myles Straw, Andrés Giménez, Oscar Gonzalez, José Ramírez and Steven Kwan, who all have good-to-great speed. They’ve even cut ties with Austin Hedges, who, at 24.5 ft/sec, was one of baseball’s slowest players last year.

That said, they’ve also lost the most speed (-0.5 ft/sec) from last year. That’s in part because you have to be great in the first place to have the most to lose, of course, but it’s also because new additions Josh Bell and Zunino are somewhat leadfooted, and neither Naylor brother is known for his speed. Regardless, this Cleveland team should have speed to burn on the bases again.

neither Naylor brother is known for his spee

FALSE Bo stole 20 bases in 24 attempts last year. And often batted leadoff for Akron.

The Guardians’ brand of baseball is back in 2023. These 3 elements set it apart Mar 31, 2023; Seattle, Washington, USA; Cleveland Guardians relief pitcher Emmanuel Clase (48) shakes hands with catcher Mike Zunino (10) following a 9-4 victory against the Seattle Mariners at T-Mobile Park. Mandatory Credit: Joe Nicholson-USA TODAY Sports
By Zack Meisel
8h ago

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SEATTLE — Imagine you’re attempting to convince a casual baseball fan to commit to watching the Guardians.

Why should I watch them?

It’s time for your sales pitch. You consider the Guardians’ brand of baseball, and the little intricacies that make them a pest to the opposition. As Mike Zunino told a teammate in the dugout Sunday: “It’s a tough style to have to play against.”

You think about the way José Ramírez capitalizes on the basepaths any time a defender suffers a mental lapse.

You should see the way this guy advances 90 feet on a groundout.

OK, maybe that’s not the most compelling argument to convince someone to tune in. You think about the way Steven Kwan aggravates a pitcher who’s ready to move on to the batter standing on deck.

You should see the way this guy resists swinging at pitches out of the zone.

That line isn’t going to boost ratings. All right, time for the suggestion that’s sure to persuade them. You visualize an Emmanuel Clase save, a model of consistency and efficiency.

You should see the way this guy induces weak contact so quickly in an at-bat.

Sure, the Guardians slap singles around the diamond, fluster fielders with their aggressiveness on the bases and demonstrate an infectious youthful exuberance. That brand of baseball, at least judging by the first four games, has returned in 2023. If you’re an opposing fan, you’re watching your team succumb to a thousand paper cuts. If you’re a Guardians fan, you’re scouring the websites of all 6,789 Cleveland T-shirt companies, waiting for one to print a Tito’s Bloop Troop product. (I demand royalties.)

A few of those elements, which surfaced during the opening series in Seattle — in which the Guardians took three of four games — can go underappreciated to the untrained eye. So here’s a refresher on three of the more impressive qualities of select Guardians players.
The way José Ramírez runs the bases

After Ramírez reached on a double Friday, Josh Bell hit a chopper to third baseman Eugenio Suárez. Ramírez started to retreat to the bag and Suárez peered over at him before completing a nonchalant throw across the diamond to retire Bell.

“Most of the time when the third baseman looks,” said third-base coach Mike Sarbaugh, “the runner goes back.”

Ramírez isn’t most runners.

The instant Suárez initiated his throwing motion, Ramírez realized he could advance to third. All he had to do was outrun Suárez, who never even considered Ramírez’s strategy. By the time Mariners first baseman Ty France caught Suárez’s throw and motioned to return the ball across the infield, Ramírez had blown by Suárez, on his way to an uncovered third base. He then scored on a Josh Naylor single.

“His baseball instincts are so off the charts,” Sarbaugh said. “He just sees things that a lot of players don’t.”

Sarbaugh was watching the throw so he could be prepared to direct traffic if a misfire would allow either or both runners to advance.

“All of a sudden, I look up and he’s coming toward me,” Sarbaugh said, “and I’m like, ‘Oh. Hey, good job.’ He just has an uncanny knack of knowing where players are on the field. You can’t teach it.”

Ramírez is never the fastest player on the field — he typically registers a decent but unspectacular sprint speed each year — but he almost always ranks at or near the top of the base-running metrics charts. It’s like if a golfer using only a sand wedge on the green led the PGA Tour in putting efficiency every year. OK, maybe that’s being unkind to Ramírez, who does have some speed. Maybe it’s like a PGA pro using only one of those rubber putters from a mini golf course — the one you smack on the concrete sidewalk after clanking one off the windmill arm — and leading the tour in putting every year.

Manager Terry Francona: “When you have your best player that plays like that, that sends a great message.”

Kwan: “That’s our guy. That’s the guy at the helm.”

Sarbaugh: “The confidence and the freedom — a younger player is thinking about not wanting to make a mistake. There aren’t many players that have those instincts.”
The way Steven Kwan works a count

The Mariners threw 38 pitches to Kwan on Friday night. Kwan saw 16 fastballs, 11 sliders, three sinkers, four cutters, three changeups and a knuckle-curve. He had one swinging strike.

Kwan ranked 14th in the majors in pitches per plate appearance last season. Only one other rookie, Kansas City’s MJ Melendez, ranked in the top 95.

Watching Kwan work a count is like watching Monet arrange paint on his palette.

“That’s why he’s hitting first,” Francona said.

“You break the pitcher’s will,” hitting coach Chris Valaika said.

Kwan’s Friday plate appearances

1. Strikeout, nine pitches
2. Sacrifice fly, four pitches
3. Two-run double, eight pitches
4. Two-run single, eight pitches (count started 0-2)
5. Groundout, five pitches
6. Walk, four pitches

Cleveland’s coaches post “process scores” after each game that evaluate each hitter’s performance as it pertains to categories such as swinging at pitches in the zone, swinging-and-missing and chasing. The coaches compare the Guardians’ cumulative process score to the opponents’ score which, unsurprisingly, often mirrors the outcome of the game. Valaika said Kwan’s score typically soars because of his strike zone awareness and his contact ability, two factors that enable him to work counts and frustrate pitchers.

“I take that to heart,” Kwan said. “There’s only so much I can do … but if I can set the tone for everybody else, I think that’s really important.”
The way Emmanuel Clase shuts the door

If you sneeze, you might miss a Clase save. Maybe take your Claritin before the ninth inning of a close game.

The master of efficiency wasted no time in wasting no time, recording a pair of scoreless innings against the Mariners in a grand total of 18 pitches.

Clase’s first outing

He threw 10 pitches, all cutters, eight for strikes.

J.P. Crawford: 97.9 mph, 98.0 mph, 98.4 mph (strikeout looking)
Julio Rodríguez: 99.4 mph, 99.1 mph, 99.1 mph, 98.6 mph (three straight whiffs to seal the strikeout)
Kolten Wong: 98.9 mph, 98.8 mph, 98.7 mph (popout)

Clase, pitching coach Carl Willis and bullpen coach Rigo Beltran, while acknowledging that you have to nitpick to identify ways Clase can improve, suggested he can attack the top of the zone with his cutter more often this year to create more swing-and-miss opportunities. The way he finished the Rodríguez encounter is evidence of how that can work in his favor.

Clase’s second outing

He threw eight pitches: five cutters and three sliders, seven for strikes.

Kolten Wong: 96.5 mph (groundout)
Ty France: 96.8 mph, 87.6 mph, 88.6 mph (groundout)
Eugenio Suárez: 96.7 mph, 96.6 mph, 88.8 mph, 95.9 mph (strikeout looking)

His velocity dipped a bit Saturday, but that might be explained by the temperature (low-40s with a steady breeze), the pitch clock (preventing him from collecting himself between pitches), and pitching on back-to-back days. Clase is notoriously quick at warming up in the bullpen, but Beltran noted he required more time than usual on Saturday.

Last season, Clase completed an inning in …

10 pitches or fewer: 27 times in 70 one-inning appearances
12 pitches or fewer: 42 times in 70 one-inning appearances
15 pitches or fewer: 57 times in 70 one-inning appearances
20 pitches or fewer: 67 times in 70 one-inning appearances

“He’s a strike machine,” James Karinchak said. “The guy’s been dominant for as long as I’ve watched him.”

This may have been posted last year but a Valaika got picked up and I was interested to see if it was Chris' brother

The Valaika boys: Four MLB draftees and the father who got them there
Zack Meisel
Jul 15, 2022
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The four Valaika boys faced a choice after every high school or travel ball game. They could hop in Dad’s Toyota Camry, roll down the windows and relish their performance.

If they airmailed a cutoff man or failed to hustle down the baseline or flailed at a pitch that never flirted with the strike zone? Well, Mom’s white Chevy Suburban never seemed like a more appealing getaway car, offering the boys a chance to hibernate in the third row of seats, away from the wrath of their demanding coach.

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Once that coach stepped through the front door of the family home, he morphed back into Dad, barred from lecturing the boys about relay throws or swing decisions. Jeff Valaika directed his sons on the baseball diamond, the soccer field and the basketball court, and nothing irked him more than an incomplete effort or an unforced gaffe.

Jeff took after his brother Phil, nicknamed Uncle Mad Dog, who was a frequent ejectee and clipboard snapper when coaching hoops.

“I try to be… not like that,” said Chris, the oldest of Jeff’s five children. “I’m a little more patient.”

All four Valaika boys were drafted as shortstops, two from UCLA and two from UC Santa-Barbara. All four played at least one season in the minor leagues, with Chris, the trailblazer, spending parts of four seasons in the majors.

When he retired in 2015, Chris was mentally drained, nursing a torn ACL and desperately seeking a career shift. He had no intention of pursuing a coaching career, even though his dad had, for years, forecasted for him a future in such a role. Chris always insisted he had no interest and pointed to the stark contrast in their on-field demeanors.

Chris is now the Cleveland Guardians’ hitting coach. Father knew best.

In 2017, Chris joined Jeff’s hometown Cubs as a minor-league hitting instructor. He belonged in a dugout, in a batting cage, in baseball pants, in that familiar setting his dad taught him to cherish.

Chris couldn’t wait to deliver the news to his dad. Jeff was raised in Stockton, Illinois, a little more than two hours west of Wrigley Field. He and his brothers and nephews played catch in the street in their neighborhood, daydreaming about scaling an ivy-coated fence to haul in a fly ball at their baseball sanctuary. Jeff, of course, idolized Mr. Cub, Hall of Fame infielder Ernie Banks.

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All those years, Chris scoffed at his dad’s suggestion that he would thrive as a coach. He finally had the chance to admit the truth.

As much as I fought it, Dad, you were right.

He’s certain Jeff heard him, from his coma, where he has remained for the last seven years.

There’s a room in the Valaika house in Valencia, California, designed to resemble an old-school sports bar, with exposed beams and air conditioning vents. For a Windy City touch, there’s a brick wall reminiscent of the pattern spanning the perimeter of the playing surface at Wrigley.

Jerseys, game programs, awards and ticket stubs line the walls and fill cabinets. A photo of Chris fielding a throw on the infield graces the cover of a purple 2011 Louisville Bats scorecard. A framed collage showcases all four boys manning shortstop at various points at William S. Hart High School. There are mugs and hats and uniforms with UCLA and UCSB logos, and a red St. Louis Cardinals cap to commemorate Matt’s year in the minors with that organization. There’s a framed newspaper article from an April 2006 edition of the Santa Clarita Valley Signal, which dubbed Matt “The Finisher” and named him boys soccer Player of the Year after he established the school goals record.

Shelves overflow with notable baseballs, including one from Chris’ first big-league game, against the Giants in San Francisco, and his first home run, coincidentally, against the Cubs. There’s a boxed cover of a September 2010 front page of the Cincinnati Enquirer, with the bold, red-lettered headline, “Reds Clinch,” after the club vanquished its 15-year playoff hex. In the main photo, Reds players and coaches are forming a dog pile, of which Chris, a rookie at the time, was a part.

And there’s a red sign perched atop an armoire that reads, “Valaikas: Living the Dream.”

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The family jokes that the dream rarely included vacations. There were no weeklong escapes to California’s sandy shores or treks to tourist attractions in other areas of the country. There were baseball tournaments. Every weekend.

“The car was constantly in motion,” Pat says.

Ilona isn’t sure how she and Jeff managed it. Baseball season swallowed them whole, but she contends she would travel back in time in a heartbeat to those early mornings as she shuttled around the state to attend one game while monitoring others on her phone. When Chris obtained his driver’s license, he evolved into his brothers’ personal taxi driver.

Ten years separate Chris from Nick, the youngest. In between are Matt, Briana, and Pat. In 2010, Jeff and Ilona would sit in the stands at Nick’s high school game while flipping between Pat’s UCLA game, Matt’s game with the Low-A Batavia Muckdogs and Chris’ game with the Reds. Sometimes, they’d split up, head to different games and text each other updates.

Hey, switch over to the Reds game. Chris is on deck.

Other times, they would sit on the living room couch, with the MLB TV package broadcasting a game on the TV, a minor-league stream playing on an iPad and the radio broadcast of another game blaring from the computer speakers.

“It was like a sports bar in the living room,” Chris says.

The Valaikas routinely field questions from those marveling at the implausibility of all four sons being selected in the MLB Draft. Was this your master plan? Did you train them for a future in baseball? Ilona admits she and Jeff held the kids to lofty standards — their family motto, she says, is “Failure is not an option” — but they never could have expected such a feat.

“Sometimes you see two or three,” Pat says, “but four is pretty special.”

Jeff played basketball at Elmhurst University, an hour outside of Chicago, and he relocated to California to attain his Masters in sports marketing. Ilona filled in one day for a close friend who worked as a scorekeeper in a basketball league that Jeff had joined. They met on the court, went out for pizza after and wound up married with five children, who stress they inherited their athletic genes from their father.

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“I am the most unathletic person there is,” Ilona says, laughing.

Still, she raised five kids who prospered in baseball, soccer and ballet. Among the boys, Chris paved the way, a third-round pick, a member of the U.S. National Team, a well-regarded prospect and, ultimately, a big-leaguer. In his first career at-bat, with his family in attendance at the then-named AT&T Park, he lined a first-pitch single to center.

“It showed the other boys that, hey, with hard work, it’s possible,” Ilona says. “Your own brother did it.”


Chris Valaika during his time with the Cubs in 2014. (Charles Rex Arbogast / AP)
A few weeks before Chris traveled to Arizona for spring training with the Cubs in 2015, his final season, Jeff underwent triple bypass surgery and an aortic aneurysm repair. As he recovered, the five children cycled through hospital shifts, ensuring someone was always keeping their parents company.

One night, about a week after the operation, as Ilona and Pat slept in a hospital lounge, Jeff suffered a heart attack and developed a blood clot in his lung, which spread to his brain and forced him into a coma.

Baseball served as Chris’ emotional outlet, even though he struggled to fend off thoughts about his dad as he navigated a summer spent with the Cubs’ Triple-A affiliate. Like his siblings, he kept reminding himself: “This is what Dad would want me to do.” And as challenging as that proved, Jeff certainly wouldn’t accept anything less than a full effort.

“He shouldered a lot of the burden when everything first happened, being the oldest,” Ilona says. “He’s rallied. I’m so proud of him.”

Each night, Ilona would sit bedside and listen to the kids’ games, propping up her phone near Jeff’s ear. COVID protocols have limited her to FaceTime calls to keep Jeff apprised of career advancements, baseball transactions and grandchildren milestones. Sometimes, Ilona says, Jeff will wince when she relays certain information.

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“I’m like, ‘Well, maybe he does hear me,’” she says. “Hopefully, on some level, he does know what’s going on.”

Since that fateful night in January 2015, Jeff has conquered a litany of health maladies, including organ failures, infections, a left toe amputation and colon cancer. Ilona says doctors are baffled by his resilience, and the prognosis for someone in his state is far from promising. The family has prepared for the worst on numerous occasions.

“We’re like, ‘OK, here we go,’” Ilona says, “and he just keeps rallying back. I just have to keep believing there’s a reason this is all happening. I’m not naive. We’re never going to have the original version of Jeff back. But God’s keeping him alive for a reason.”


Chris Valaika in 2008, when he was in the Reds organization. (Jim McIsaac / Getty Images)
Late in his playing career, Chris started investigating the benefits of data and technology in baseball. He studied the science behind swing mechanics and pored over video. Phone conversations between Chris and Pat, which usually opened with on-field topics before transitioning to family chatter, became flooded with analytical jargon. A few minutes about force plates, and then some dialogue about Pat’s two toddlers.

“Listening to him talk,” Ilona says, “sometimes I’m like, ‘Is this my kid? You really sound like you know what you’re talking about.’”

When he initially attended UCSB, Chris studied anthropology, though he describes his focus a bit differently.

“It was baseball,” he says.

When he returned to the school in 2016, his playing career in the rearview, he switched his major to history to leave the door open for teaching and coaching at the high school or college level. He assisted the coaching staff at UCSB that year, with a roster that included eventual Guardians ace Shane Bieber.

His newfound passion for sports science led to a job with Sparta, a company that specializes in analyzing body movement. Chris traveled to Arizona during spring training in 2017 in an attempt to foster relationships between the company and MLB teams. He had lunch one afternoon with Jason McLeod, a former member of the Cubs’ player development staff, who two weeks later offered him a job in their hitting department.

Chris’ visit to the desert had reminded him of the environment he coveted and how much he missed the daily rigors of a baseball season. He headed to extended spring training to work with Cubs minor-leaguers and after the draft, trekked to Eugene, Oregon, to serve as the short-season hitting coach.

The next season, the Cubs promoted Chris to the role of hitting coach at Triple-A Iowa, where he had played just three years earlier. He spent the following season as a roving instructor, oversaw the club’s alternate site during the pandemic-shortened season and advanced to the big-league coaching staff in 2021. After the Guardians dismissed Ty Van Burkleo last fall, they prioritized a new hitting coach who could spearhead an organization-wide shift in hitting philosophy. The club’s front office decision-makers appreciated the way Chris prioritizes collaboration, a keystone of Cleveland’s operation. The Guardians employ the league’s youngest roster, and many hitters say they’ve found it simple to connect with Chris, especially given the recency of his career.

“He’s done a tremendous job,” Guardians manager Terry Francona says.

Last week, Pat’s 3-year-old daughter told him she “can’t watch Toy Story.” Pat, playing for the Braves’ Triple-A affiliate in Gwinnett, Georgia, was puzzled.

“Nana watches your game,” his daughter explained, lamenting the fact that her father’s at-bats took precedence over Woody and Buzz Lightyear’s excursions.

Matt and Nick are no longer playing, but Ilona still tunes in to Pat’s games. She checks the Guardians’ box score each night, her eyes first darting to the number in the team’s hit column.

Ilona texted Chris after Cleveland piled up 23 hits in a lopsided victory against the Royals last Saturday. “We needed that,” replied Chris, the typical hitting coach who never exhales, since some member of the lineup always aches for a reversal of fortunes.

Chris considers himself reserved, a support system for Cleveland’s hitters, not a daunting presence who will stand atop the dugout steps ready to launch into a tirade if a player waves at an errant pitch. He might not coach in the same manner as Jeff, but he’s confident his dad would have relished the chance to follow along — and to know he was right.

“I don’t know what he’s hearing, what he’s doing in there,” Chris says, “but we like to believe he’s hearing us. Hopefully, things turn and he comes out of it and gets to see me do this job. But if not, I know he’s watching.”

(Top image: John Bradford / The Athletic; Photos: Kathryn Riley, Chris Coduto, Jim McIsaac / Getty Images; courtesy of the Valaika family)

Humor, humility and hot dogs: How Terry Francona managed his way into the Cleveland record books
Zack Meisel
Apr 5, 2023
11

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“You’re going to hate this question,” I say, before scanning the cramped visiting manager’s office at Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City.

“That’s a good way to start,” Terry Francona says, leaning back in a leather chair, his fingers interlocked and resting on his stomach.

Clusters of framed 23-by-31 inch photos of baseball’s most distinguished managers cover the white walls, each snapshot designed like a throwback Topps card. Tommy Lasorda, Earl Weaver, Sparky Anderson and Joe Torre appear to eye Francona as he fills out his lineup card.

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“Could you envision, down the line,” I continue, “a young manager sitting in that chair and looking up and seeing a picture of you?”

Francona has managed teams to 1,878 major-league victories. He should slide into 13th place on MLB’s all-time leaderboard this summer. His black scooter attracts more fanfare in downtown Cleveland than any pop star’s tour bus. His decorated resume has earned him tenure with the Guardians, and likely a residence in Cooperstown whenever he spits out his last piece of Dubble Bubble.

“You’re right,” Francona replies. “I don’t like that question.”

To make this two-time World Series champion squirm, to make sweat surface atop his shiny dome, to make the man who has met five U.S. presidents feel as though a thousand termites are marching across his skin, ask him about his accomplishments on the baseball diamond.

Francona steers the conversation toward the luminaries on the office walls. In 1982, Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog wrapped his arm around Francona, a cumbersome cast engulfing the then-rookie’s surgically repaired right knee. When Francona worked for ESPN in 2012, Braves skipper Bobby Cox went out of his way to visit the network’s trailer to say hello to him.

He has a story about an interaction with nearly everyone. He treasures the game’s history and the relationships it fosters. But he grows uneasy when it’s suggested he might belong in that pantheon.

Francona’s true genius, after all, lies in him spelling out all the ways he isn’t one.

He disarms people immediately, puts them at ease and eliminates any barrier between a veteran big-league manager and, say, a wide-eyed minor leaguer. You can headbutt him, orchestrate a prank on him, or poke fun at his golf handicap or the way he waddles to the mound. You can hand out T-shirts teasing him for being named the American League’s most handsome manager. Anything is fair game, so long as you follow his core tenets of showing up on time and submitting your best effort, whether you’re a player, a coach, a number cruncher, a clubhouse attendant or an intern.


He volunteers details about parading a freezer’s worth of popsicles into his mouth, or cracking his tooth on undercooked pasta, or plunging into the bushes outside his hotel while attempting to wave to former Cavaliers coach Tyronn Lue. The colorful tales humanize him and detract from any fanfare about how he has helped reshape the Guardians organization over the past decade.

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That’s how he prefers it, to sidestep the credit.

Francona, 63, has collected three AL Manager of the Year awards with Cleveland since 2013. One broke on its way to his house; he jokes that he tried to glue it back together to make it look like he won four of them. He anxiously scribbles with his blue pen when asked whether the trophies are on display in his Tucson, Ariz., home and instead describes his room full of memorabilia and family baseball photos. Francona keeps the door shut, deeming the space “not for public consumption.”

He’ll have you believe as a player he was an overmatched, oft-injured hack clinging to the last spot on a major-league roster. Injuries did plague his 10-year career, but he undersells how gifted he was with the bat, how he was named the country’s top collegiate player, how he became a first-round pick and how, when healthy, he was a threat to capture a batting crown.

He’ll have you thinking he’s never uttered a word with more than two syllables. Anytime he weaves new vocabulary into a press conference answer, he’ll nag reporters, in jest, to include that quote in their articles.

He’ll lean on humor to build relationships, to gain players’ trust, to apply a light-hearted filter to a game founded on failure. He was once invited to a baseball-themed White House function simply because a longtime political commentator heard Francona had a knack for making people laugh.

“He does a lot of funny stuff,” says Rays manager Kevin Cash, Francona’s practical joke adversary and former coaching understudy. “But he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Few could have envisioned Francona’s managerial reign in Cleveland reaching Year 11, especially given the gravity of his health scares. But Francona entered the 2023 campaign energized to land Cleveland that elusive World Series title. Ending the 75-year hex would certainly secure a place for his headshot on the wall in that Kansas City office. Just don’t mention that premise to him. He’s never considered it.

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“No, I haven’t,” he says, shaking his head and searching for a one-liner to deflect the attention.

“Poor young guy who would have to look up at that.”

Francona and his kids drove home from his father’s funeral in February 2018, everyone crammed in a car, everyone wearing a black dress or suit, everyone somber. And everyone craving hot dogs.

For the final stage of his life, Francona’s father, Tito, lived in a 1,500-square-foot century home at the top of a hill in New Brighton, Pa. His back porch was perched above right field of the middle school’s baseball venue. Down the hill, on the bustling Third Avenue on the banks of the Beaver River, sits a weathered brick building with chipped paint the colors of ketchup and mustard.

The structure, home to perhaps Beaver County’s most coveted delicacy, an unassuming hot dog, was built in 1959, the year Terry Francona was born.

“That makes sense,” he says. “I probably had one when I was 2.”

The Brighton Hot Dog Shoppe charged 18 cents for its prized product when Francona was a kid. (They’re $1.75 now.) He visited the establishment — when it was about a quarter of its current size — twice a day.

“For a dollar,” he says, “you could get full.”

Ask Francona about passing Lou Boudreau on Cleveland’s managerial wins list and he’ll clam up, but show him a photo of a couple of hot dogs one morning during spring training and he’ll deliver a spirited sermon.

“OK, that’s heaven,” he says. “That’s what that is. That’s heaven. All right? That proves that there is a God. OK? You can talk religion all you want. That proves right there there’s a God. That’s a chili dog with everything. That’s what they call it. I grew up on that.”

“Everything” simply means chili and diced onions. When one Pittsburgh-area reporter treks to Cleveland to cover a Guardians series once or twice a season, he brings Francona six of his beloved hot dogs. Francona used to gift one to Brad Mills, his longtime bench coach, and scarf down the remaining five. After Francona’s father’s funeral, the family stopped for what Francona estimates was about 15 hot dogs.

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“The bread is so soft,” Francona says. “They steam it. F—. The fries are greasy and good. … When they started serving breakfast, the town almost revolted.”


Terry Francona’s favorite hot dogs, in all their glory. (Zack Meisel / The Athletic)
A few winding roads away, three baseball fields converge on one of the rare flat surfaces in hilly New Brighton. Beside an unmarked, gravel lot sits a netted warmup area with grass peeking through the dirt. Several of the light fixtures towering over the fields lean a bit perilously. Beyond a left-field chain-link fence stands a modest sign.

FRANCONA FIELD

Home of New Brighton Youth Baseball

The display includes a picture of Francona in a red and navy Boston jacket and cap, and his dad in a white St. Louis Cardinals uniform. A plaque on a bright red concessions building reads: “In recognition of their accomplishments in Major League Baseball and the recognition that it has brought to the New Brighton area. May this plaque be a reminder to all those who play here that hard work and dedication can make dreams come true.”


Francona Field in New Brighton, Pa. (Zack Meisel / The Athletic)
Francona’s dad wouldn’t let him play football. Too dangerous. Stick with golf instead, he’d suggest. Francona feared he’d be labeled a dork for lugging his clubs onto the school bus.

But, really, Francona grew up in a dugout, tagging along during much of his father’s 15-year career. Baseball was woven into his DNA. He never charted another path.

The first time Mills met his eventual best friend, college and professional teammate, and coaching companion, Francona was lying on a couch in the lounge area of a University of Arizona dorm. Francona was a skinny freshman with long brown hair, frayed jean shorts and red Converse Chuck Taylor high tops.

As the members of the school’s baseball team mingled, Francona remained off to the side, watching a game on TV. Mills, a junior transfer from College of the Sequoias, approached to introduce himself. Francona, a highly regarded recruit, muttered his name, but never redirected his gaze from the TV.

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“You’re Terry Francona?” Mills said, with the wonderment of someone who’d spotted the Loch Ness Monster. They made eye contact. They shook hands. They became roommates. They’ve been tied at the replaced hip for 40 years.


Francona and Brad Mills in 2019. They struck up a friendship at the University of Arizona. (David Richard / USA Today)
Francona once had a 300-question, true/false college exam, but Arizona had a baseball game that afternoon and Francona, in full uniform, was itching to escape the classroom and dart to the field. He quickly marked “true” for every answer and rushed for the exit. On his way out, the instructor asked how he thought he fared.

“Were there more true or more false?” Francona inquired. The professor said “true.”

“I think I passed!” Francona said, hustling out the door.

Francona once sprinted past Mills on the campus quad. When Mills asked why he was in such a hurry, Francona shouted he had just finished a tutoring session to cram for a math test and he didn’t want to forget everything he had just learned.

These are the stories Francona loves to tell. He’d rather detail how he lost his car keys this spring and combed through the grass outside his hotel each morning on his hands and knees than explain how he skillfully leveraged Cleveland’s bullpen during the 2016 playoffs, or how he convinced a roster full of rookies and sophomores in 2022 that their inexperience didn’t have to be a hindrance.

He’d rather laugh at himself and relay tales such as how during the Winter Meetings in December, Jay Hennessey, the Guardians’ vice president of baseball learning and development, who spent more than a quarter-century as a Navy SEAL, found Francona a scenic spot in the San Diego Bay where he could swim with sharks. Francona, who swims every morning, declined the offer because, as he put it, the sharks would confuse him for an otter or a seal and turn him into chum.

That brand of self-deprecation endears Francona to his players. It’s how he can inform a veteran he’s shifting them lower in the lineup. It’s how he earns the trust of pitchers who might otherwise seethe when they see him emerge from the dugout to replace them.

Guardians president of baseball operations Chris Antonetti and general manager Mike Chernoff marvel at the way Francona delivers players news they don’t want to hear. Mills, who left the coaching staff in 2020, used to exit the room with the player in those situations, just to confirm he understood the situation.

“It’s almost comical sometimes,” Mills says. “If I tell you you stunk, you’d want to fight me. But every one of those guys feels that he’s on their side. And he is.”

Mills commended Francona for his ability to say the right thing to the right player at the right time. Francona pulled aside Will Brennan in the dugout before a Cactus League game in late March, told the rookie outfielder he was making the Opening Day roster and supplied a “Tony Soprano” style slap to his cheek. Brennan appreciated the heads-up and the chance to exhale for the final week of spring training.

“I don’t know what it is,” Brennan says. “It’s a little mystical. It’s a little different. But he has it figured out. And if he heard me say that, he would probably grill me.”


Francona congratulates José Ramírez after he received an award last September. (Phil Long / Associated Press)
During the interview process for Cleveland’s vacant managerial job in the fall of 2012, Francona, unprompted, submitted a 17-page manifesto on his primary baseball beliefs, everything from how he handles difficult decisions to how he regards smart baserunning — typed in all-caps, in bold and printed on card stock. Chernoff joked that Francona’s taxes or old lineup cards were probably on the back side of the pages.

After Francona was fired in 2000 following four suboptimal seasons with the Phillies, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to manage again, let alone whether anyone would want him to manage. Mark Shapiro, readying to take over for John Hart as Cleveland’s chief executive, encouraged Francona to come to the team’s offices, a 100-mile trek from New Brighton, where Francona was visiting his dad.

Francona spent the 2001 season with the Indians, assisting the front office with various tasks, including identifying the heir apparent to Kenny Lofton in center field. He treasured the chance to work without the burden of each win and loss weighing on him, and the bond he forged with Shapiro and Antonetti that summer planted the seed for him to return to Cleveland more than a decade later, following eight seasons with Boston.

Ask anyone in the Guardians front office the secret to its player development triumphs, its ability to field a contender in spite of a meager payroll, its method to replacing the executives and coaches whom other teams pluck on an annual basis, and they’ll likely supply a vanilla answer that includes the phrase “collaborative culture.” It’s trite but true, and it started shortly after Francona joined the organization. Antonetti and Chernoff keep copies of that 17-page thesis because so much of what Francona outlined — the value of leadership and loyalty and offering everyone a voice in decision-making — drives how they operate. Antonetti, Chernoff and Francona meet in the manager’s office following most home games, a session of recapping and planning. They don’t always agree, but they hug it out — literally — when things get heated.

Those are the moments Francona relishes, the challenges that motivate him, even as he approaches a traditional retirement age. Over time, Francona says, he developed what he describes as a “perverse” enjoyment for problem-solving, for tackling the obstacles that surface during a fickle, 162-game grind. He didn’t plant a right hook in his office wall last week when handed Triston McKenzie’s MRI results, which scrambled the Guardians’ rotation before Opening Day. Instead, he brainstormed, like he always does, “even when sometimes it doesn’t look figure-out-able,” he says, like when he tabbed Ryan Merritt, a soft-tossing, soft-spoken, cowboy boots-wearing Texan with 11 big-league innings to his name to start Game 5 of the 2016 ALCS.

Not every decision prospers; he pulled starter Aaron Civale after five batters in Game 5 of the ALDS last October, for instance. He’s confessed to sticking with certain veterans for too long in particular lineup spots. Second-guessing comes with the territory, whether it’s about a pitching choice or a playing time ruling.

“A lot of people try to manage with everything in a perfect world,” says Mike Barnett, the Guardians’ replay assistant. “He manages for every scenario that could be out there. That’s why he never gets caught off guard.”

Coaches, coordinators, scouts and front-office analysts filter in and out of Francona’s office every afternoon. He keeps an open-door policy for anyone who wants to pitch an idea, talk strategy, exchange embarrassing stories or test his cribbage acumen.

“I remember being so amazed at his open-mindedness at bringing in people and getting their opinions,” Shapiro says. “That set an immediate tone for the organization, like, ‘OK, everybody’s important. Whatever helps us be successful, whatever helps us win, that’s what we’re going to do.’”

Francona doesn’t covet the credit, though. He never has.

Last September, Antonetti convinced Francona to join him for “an ESPN interview” in a seldom-used room in their ballpark’s service tunnel. There was no interview. Antonetti knew if he revealed his true intentions, Francona would never come. The two entered the room, where the entire organization, plus Cash — the Rays were in town — and Mills, who flew in from his home in Texas, were waiting to celebrate him for becoming the franchise’s winningest manager.

“You mother …” Francona started, before spotting Mills and welling up.

Francona had been adamant that the organization didn’t need to honor him. He would prefer to reflect on how he called a team meeting on Sept. 1 to rally his troops ahead of a daunting stretch that stood between them and a division title. As he points out, the team dropped its next four games. He would prefer to boast about the players responsible for the Guardians surging to the finish line after that mini funk, or the players and staff who paved his way to the top of the Cleveland wins leaderboard.

“There’s no faking this,” Chernoff says. “This is who he is. He’s such a genuine, authentic guy.”


Francona, center, Mike Chernoff, left, and Chris Antonetti, meet in the manager’s office after most home games. (Tony Dejak / Associated Press)
As José Ramírez’s home run ball caromed off a sky-blue Progressive banner in the right-field seats and fireworks exploded above the downtown Cleveland sky, Antonetti and Chernoff started walking.

After what he described as a few “hairy” days in the ICU following three surgeries in four days to address gastrointestinal and blood-clotting issues, Francona was confined to his E. 4th Street apartment while his team pursued a playoff berth in an empty ballpark two blocks away. Francona said it felt more like 200 miles between him and his sanctuary.

Ramírez’s three-run homer vaulted Cleveland into the 2020 postseason, and the front-office bosses packed and headed for Francona’s residence. They warned him they were on their way so he’d put on pants and tidy up the place.

When Francona stepped away for health reasons again in 2021, Cash checked in regularly. He called Francona one morning and asked if he wanted to join him for a jog, knowing Francona could barely squeeze his pain-riddled left foot into a shoe. Francona appreciated the ribbing.

Francona resisted considering what might be next after baseball, how he could occupy every hour of every day when he doesn’t have a date with a leather-padded chair in the dugout, when he’s not launching grapes at fellow coaches on the team flight, when he’s not arriving at the ballpark eight hours before first pitch so he can swim, study scouting reports and sketch out lineups and matchup scenarios.

He’s a regular attendee of Arizona basketball games. He golfs. He listens to ’80s comedy specials featuring Rita Rudner, George Wallace and Steven Wright. But those closest to him struggle to imagine Francona anywhere other than a dugout.

“He can come and hang at my house if he wants,” Cash says. “He definitely would eat all the food.”

Last season, Francona finally caved. He mulled what life after managing might entail. But the vision was blurry, and before long, the league’s youngest roster rejuvenated him. The pranks gradually returned. Barnett started sporting outlandish haircuts, the result of Francona’s frequent sneak attacks with clippers. By September, Francona had a contract extension in place, a pact intended to keep him in Cleveland until he’s ready to call it a career.

“Baseball,” Chernoff says, “is Tito’s life.”


Francona toasts his team after it clinched the AL Central title last season. (Jerome Miron / USA Today)
When the Guardians clinched the AL Central title last season in Arlington, Texas, Francona strode to the center of the celebration to initiate the opening toast. Then, before the room reeked of beer and cigar smoke, he escaped to the visiting manager’s office, his flip-flops squeaking on the sticky plastic coating protecting the clubhouse carpet. This was the players’ moment, he thought, the time for a bunch of 20-somethings to savor an accomplishment no one had forecast.

For a 63-year-old manager, it was a time to decompress, to reflect, to be grateful for surviving what he had endured and for being able to continue in the only role that feels right.

On a wall in that office at Globe Life Field is an array of caricatures of each manager. Francona, in a blue Cleveland hoodie and white baseball pants, is cruising along a nondescript path on a red scooter with an attached trailer carrying a pair of World Series trophies. His cheeks are laughably oversized. His nose and ears, too. He’s waving as he offers a goofy smile.

This is one framed picture on an office wall Francona doesn’t mind discussing.

Great article - thanks for posting.

Cleveland is so fortunate to have him.

I'm pumped to show you': Bell hopes he's broken out

[Well one single and RBI is not quite a turning point but we'll see]

CLEVELAND -- Guardians first baseman Josh Bell sat at the podium in the media room at Progressive Field prior to Cleveland’s 5-3 loss to the Mariners in the home opener and was sure not to sugarcoat the situation in which he’s found himself.

There was a lot of focus on the excitement for Bell to play in front of a home crowd at the corner of Carnegie and Ontario for the first time. Both his family and his wife’s were in attendance, and he couldn’t wait to play in front of his daughter, who he hadn’t seen since the week before Spring Training started. But there was no hiding the drought he’s been experiencing.

• Travis Kelce's first pitch at Guardians' opener goes awry

Bell entered the day having gone 2-for-22 (.091 average) with two singles to start the season. He was Cleveland’s big offseason signing, shouldering the expectations of boosting this offense to the next level. And even though he didn’t produce on the road trip, his team still won five of its seven games.

“It’s awesome to see, especially when a guy like myself hasn’t played very well at all,” Bell said.

That’s why Friday’s RBI single meant more than just a run on the scoreboard.

It’s easy to see how pressure could be building. Bell had high expectations for his bat coming into the year after a rocky second half of last season with the Padres. He was slotted in behind José Ramírez in the lineup to give him much-needed protection that he hasn’t received in the last few years. Plus, power has been the biggest weapon missing from the Guardians’ toolbox.

• Guardians honor iconic drumming fan with uniform patch

Because Bell has been scuffling, Guardians manager Terry Francona decided to bump him down one spot in the batting order for the home opener.

“I think it’s human nature. Guys normally try to do too much. You see it all the time,” Francona said. “He’ll be fine. If you read his baseball card, there’s a lot of crooked numbers there. He’s gonna have to click on, and then he’ll settle in and be who he is.”

Could his timely hit in the third inning be that “click” the Guardians have been waiting for?

Shortstop Amed Rosario drew a one-out walk before Josh Naylor singled him to second base. With runners on first and second and two outs, Bell laced a 100 mph single into right-center field to plate Rosario. The only problem was that Naylor got overaggressive on the bases, attempting to advance to third as Rosario came home. Naylor was thrown out, halting any potential momentum.

The takeaway? Bell delivered in a critical time, which hadn’t happened yet this season. Yes, it’s an extremely limited sample size, but with the Guardians hoping that signing Bell was an answer to a lot of their offensive woes, this was the first stepping stone they’d been looking for. Bell had 11 plate appearances with runners in scoring position prior to Friday. He was hitless in those instances, with two walks.

• Cavs' Lopez, goldendoodle enjoy Guards' home opener

His efforts were part of a Guardians loss, but if this is what Bell needed to find a rhythm offensively, it could be a victory in the long run.

“I’m happy for Josh,” Francona said after the game. “I mean, that’ll help him immensely.”
[Will it?]

Eight Guardians takeaways from the first 10 games of the season Apr 5, 2023; Oakland, California, USA; Cleveland Guardians center fielder Myles Straw (7) celebrates with second baseman Andres Gimenez (0) and left fielder Steven Kwan (38) after Straw and Gimenez were batted in on an RBI double against the Oakland Athletics during the sixth inning at Oakland Coliseum. Mandatory Credit: Kelley L Cox-USA TODAY Sports
By Zack Meisel
Apr 10, 2023

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CLEVELAND — Numbers fluctuate wildly this time of year. Trends are flimsy. Overreactions are rampant. Everything you’re about to read could change by the time you reach the end of the article.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t examine some of the early results. Here are 10 takeaways from the Guardians’ 6-4 start.
Andrés Giménez’s second All-Star bid is underway

No matter the circumstance last season, Andrés Giménez produced impressive numbers: left-handed pitcher, right-handed pitcher, home, road, day, night, opponent with a bird mascot, opponent with an undefined species of mascot. Giménez posted an .887 OPS against lefties and an .822 OPS against righties last season.

This year, he’s hitting everything in sight, to the tune of a .350/.422/.550 slash line. He has no business batting seventh. Or sixth.

Here’s how many plate appearances each spot in Cleveland’s order recorded last season:

1. 749
2. 727
3. 716
4. 709
5. 691
6. 673
7. 654
8. 635
9. 605

So, the difference between, say, second and seventh in the lineup is 73 plate appearances, or about an extra trip to the plate every other game.

And here’s where Giménez has batted this season:

5th: once
6th: twice
7th: seven times

Manager Terry Francona bumped him up to the No. 5 spot on Sunday, and that shift is even more imperative because …
Josh Bell is searching
Josh Bell drove in the winning run Sunday but has batted .086/.250/.086 this season. (Ken Blaze / USA Today)

It’s not often you see a guy with a .103 slugging percentage get intentionally walked. That was the case on Saturday when the Mariners preferred to gift Josh Bell first base to set up a left-on-left matchup with Josh Naylor.

That slugging percentage plunged to .086 after an 0-for-6 showing on Sunday, though Bell did drive in the winning run by putting the ball in play in the 12th inning. At this point, he’ll take the little victories.

Bell has looked out of sorts, and after Francona and the hitting coaches talked him up this spring as the perfect protection for José Ramírez in the cleanup spot, he’s already tumbled two spots in the lineup. Granted, it’s been 10 games. Bell won a Silver Slugger Award last season. He might wind up a feared No. 4 hitter and opt out of his contract this winter to sign a more lucrative deal.

But, yeah. It’s been ugly.

He’s still walking a bunch, and while his strikeout rate is higher than normal, it’s not at an alarming, Franmil Reyes-esque level. His main issue has been a tendency to weakly tap pitches into the ground.

• Bell’s launch angle in 2023: minus-5.6 degrees (league average is 12.1 degrees)
• Bell’s career average launch angle: 8.5 degrees
• Bell’s career-high launch angle: 13.1 degrees, in 2019, his banner season

In simple terms: He’s disrupting a lot of worms crawling beneath the infield grass. It’s just … those groundballs haven’t inflicted any damage. It might take time for him to pinpoint what sort of swing and approach make the most sense for him to produce consistently, especially with shift limitations in place. Bell said it can be challenging at times, as a switch hitter, to fix what’s ailing him from each side of the plate.

Bell’s funk would be even more glaring if the guy hitting ninth wasn’t impersonating a Silver Slugger winner, because …
A productive Myles Straw transforms the lineup

What seems unsustainable about Myles Straw’s .344/.488/.406 slash line? When analyzing his monthly output, Straw’s walk rate correlated to his overall production (or lack thereof) at the plate last season, so eight walks in 10 games in 2023 is an encouraging sign for him.

The main thing for Straw, though, is to simply reach base at a sufficient clip to extract optimal value out of his speed. He leads the league with six stolen bases. He stole 21 in 22 attempts last season. With the new rules in place, even if he posts an on-base percentage in line with his career mark of .322 (entering 2023), he could rack up 40 stolen bases. Straw reaching base and running amok in front of Steven Kwan, a safe bet to put the ball in play, is an effective combination.

For much of last season, the club had two black holes at the bottom of the order. With Straw thriving — and, granted, he had a sizzling start in 2022 as well — and Mike Zunino at least offering a power threat, Cleveland’s lineup seems deeper in 2023.

And a deeper lineup, paired with the new rules, could pay dividends because …
The Guardians are still running wild

Giménez stole second base on Friday with such ease that Straw stepped out of the batter’s box as the pitch sailed toward the plate, the catcher didn’t even think about throwing to second and Giménez didn’t even think about sliding into the bag. The Guardians ranked third in the majors in stolen bases and stolen-base success rate last season, and the new rules could help them convert what was already an advantage into an overwhelming strength.

Through 10 games, they have swiped 14 bases in 16 chances — only the Diamondbacks and Orioles have racked up more — and the two miscues were Kwan getting picked off and Bell rumbling into second base a bit tardy.

So, to anyone who was wondering whether the Guardians would employ a similar offensive approach this year to the one that guided them to a division title in 2022, you have your answer. On the flip side, however …
The power outage has continued

The Guardians have hit five home runs, tied with the lowly Nationals and Tigers for last in the majors. Last season, they ranked 29th among the league’s 30 teams, ahead of only Detroit.

Sure, chilly weather has followed the Guardians to Seattle, Oakland and Cleveland. But the Guardians’ opponents, in those same conditions, have hit nine home runs.

There’s time for Cleveland to climb the home run leaderboard. Ramírez and Bell, after all, have yet to hit one over the fence. Neither has Oscar Gonzalez, who has Will Brennan lurking in the right-field shadows. That position battle will be worth monitoring.
José Ramírez hit 29 home runs in 2022. (David Richard / USA Today)

So, too, will the makeup of the rotation. Triston McKenzie was re-evaluated by the team’s medical staff on Sunday and seems optimistic about his recovery timeline. Zach Plesac rebounded from a wretched season debut with a timely seven-inning effort on Sunday. And good luck ignoring the stat lines for Logan Allen and Tanner Bibee every time they take the mound for Triple-A Columbus. Those two could be next in line whenever the Guardians need help.

One starter Cleveland needs to prove dependable? Cal Quantrill, who has submitted a pair of shaky starts. And because of that …
Quantrill is not quite ready to unleash his splitter

Quantrill said it can be tough to grip his new pitch in the cold. (He developed it over the winter while basking in the Arizona sun.) He said he needs to feel comfortable and confident in his delivery to be able to implement the splitter, and he hasn’t reached that point through two rocky outings. His focus has been on attempting to keep the Guardians in the game, fighting to survive long enough to spare the bullpen from being overworked, so he hasn’t had the ideal scenario to throw a series of splitters. He said he tossed one on Saturday, but it wasn’t anything noteworthy. Quantrill has proven supremely reliable the last two seasons; for the health of the rotation, an immediate return to form would go a long way.

The primary reason: Cleveland’s bullpen leads the league in innings pitched. That’s not a title any team wants to claim, even if the group has registered a 3.16 ERA.

Among the bright spots …
Eli Morgan has unleashed his slider

Eli Morgan’s slider usage increased as last season unfolded. Now, he’s throwing it as often as his devastating changeup. The slider gives hitters — especially righties — something else to consider so they can’t simply sit on his fastball or changeup, two offerings that naturally play off each other. His whiff rate on the slider this season is 50 percent. Yes, that’s a small sample. But his whiff rate overall this season, in a slightly larger sample, is 35.3 percent, up from 26.4 percent last year.

Morgan recorded his first career save last week in a 10-inning win in Oakland. And on that note …
Opponents ought to finish off the Guardians in nine innings

Cleveland went 13-6 in extra innings last year; they’re already 4-0 this year.

The formula: a lot of contact and a steady bullpen. Strikeouts are especially valuable in extra innings, with a runner planted at second base to start each frame. Cleveland’s bullpen ranks fourth in the majors in strikeout rate.

The Guardians make more contact than any other team, and they have a deep roster of capable relievers. In the second half of 2022, once the Guardians established relief roles, they boasted the best bullpen ERA in the league and the fourth-best strand rate. Conversely, they ranked fourth in the majors in getting a runner home from third with fewer than two outs.

• Guardians in extra innings in 2022: .397 on-base percentage, .774 OPS
• Opponents in extra innings in 2022: .299 on-base percentage, .649 OPS

As Plesac said Sunday after Cleveland emerged triumphant in a 12-inning heavyweight bout with the Marin

I was going to post a few things about the G's first 10 games but Meisel had a much better summary than I could provide.

G's are 6-4. Same rate over the season is close to 100 wins.

G's are 4-0 in extra innings. Bullpens win/lose extra inning games. Once again, G's pen one of the best in baseball.

Gimenez smokin'. Bell MIA. Jose hasn't warmed up yet. Gonzales dipping. Brennan on the rise. Straw's hot start good for a trade. Amed trying too hard. Tito sees what we see and will be shuffling lineups.

Zunino might not be a plus if he can't handle balls in the dirt.

Let's see what the next 10 looks like.

Zack Meisel
@ZackMeisel
Aaron Civale to the injured list with an oblique strain.

Triston McKenzie shifted to the 60-day IL (he can return as soon as May 29)

Sunday there were three more wild pitches and one passed ball. I am not sure if any of the catchers can catch.
Bo Naylor read or not...

We can forget about Civale again. And McKenzie till May 29.
Battenfield to fill in for Civale. Gaddis is subbing for McKenzie. Quantrill looks bad. Plesac had one stinker and one good start.
Looks we now have a one man rotation.
And Bibee, Allen and Williams join Naylor on the fast track.

pril 10: RHP Aaron Civale placed on 15-day IL; RHP Peyton Battenfield selected from Triple-A Columbus
Civale, who was scheduled to pitch against the Yankees on Wednesday, went on the injured list with a left oblique strain. The righty has made two starts this season, fanning eight while allowing four runs in 12 2/3 innings.

April 4: LHP Sam Hentges, RHP Cody Morris throwing off the mound
Hentges and Morris have both progressed to throwing off the mound. Guardians manager Terry Francona said Hentges, who pitched in a spring game before being sidelined, is further along in his recovery since he had already begun to ramp up, whereas Morris will need more time to build up before seeing game action.

Lloyd: It might be time for Guardians to have the Tanner Bibee conversationBy Jason Lloyd
8h ago
CLEVELAND — There are options. It might be a little sooner than anyone wanted to break the glass on them, but there are most certainly options.

It’s worth noting, for instance, that Tanner Bibee is on schedule to pitch Wednesday in Triple-A, which is the next time the Guardians will need a starter to fill the void left by Aaron Civale’s latest trip to the injured list.

Less than two weeks into the season, the Guardians are already facing major questions about their pitching staff. Triston McKenzie officially won’t be back until the end of May after he was transferred to the 60-day injured list Monday and now Civale will miss multiple weeks with an oblique strain.

That leaves Shane Bieber, Cal Quantrill and Zach Plesac as the remaining healthy starters, and Plesac has plenty of questions surrounding him even when he’s healthy despite a solid outing Sunday at home against the Mariners.

For now, the Guardians have recalled Peyton Battenfield, who was scratched from his scheduled start on Sunday in Columbus when team officials had an idea something might be wrong with Civale. Battenfield is available to support a bullpen that has already been stretched thin with four extra-inning games over the first two weeks, and Hunter Gaddis is scheduled to pitch on Tuesday.

If Battenfield isn’t needed in relief of Gaddis, Terry Francona said he’ll take the rotation spot Wednesday in the series finale against the Yankees. That’s fine and all, but Battenfield doesn’t have the pedigree of Bibee. A long-term rotation that includes both Gaddis and Battenfield doesn’t invoke a lot of confidence right now.

Just below the surface of uncertainty are three jewels in a farm system flooded with gems. It always seemed realistic the trio of Bibee, Gavin Williams and Daniel Espino could make it to Cleveland at some point this season. It just never seemed ideal to start having those conversations in April. Yet here we are.

Williams and Espino are both better prospects than Bibee, but not by much, and Bibee is ahead of both on the timeline to Cleveland. Williams began the year with a dominant outing at Double-A and Espino is fighting injuries again. Bibee, meanwhile, was terrific in his first start with Columbus last week: four hits allowed and seven strikeouts over five shutout innings.

He sat 97-98 with his fastball, induced 16 swings and misses and produced a whiff rate greater than 50 percent on his slider and curve. It’s unfair to compare him to a Cy Young winner, but Bibee could ultimately be another Bieber clone: A control pitcher in college who exploded once he was exposed to the Guardians’ pitching witchcraft. The paths to this point certainly look similar. Bieber was a fourth-rounder, Bibee was taken in the fifth. Both were California college pitchers who were drafted because of their command.

Bieber briefly flirted with higher velocity a few years ago but has managed to remain dominant while throwing 92. After a rough first inning Monday when he left too many pitches over the middle of the plate, he was again terrific in lasting seven innings against a powerful Yankees lineup to give most of the relievers a much-needed break in Cleveland’s 3-2 victory.

Bieber is an ace and pitched like it again Monday. Behind him, though, things are starting to get scary.

Is it too soon to be having the Bibee conversation? Yes and no. Bibee made only 13 starts in Double-A last year and his start last week was his first showing in Triple-A. Historically, Cleveland executives seem to like having that number closer to 7-8 Triple-A appearances before promoting pitchers.

Bieber made only 14 career starts in Double-A and eight in Triple-A before he was brought to Cleveland. He never went back down.

If this was early June, maybe there wouldn’t even be a debate and Bibee would be on his way. Maybe he will be soon anyway. It isn’t ideal, but it isn’t unprecedented. The Guardians brought both Plesac and Civale to the majors in 2019 after abbreviated stints in Columbus when injuries forced the matter. Plesac made just four career starts in Triple-A before he arrived following an injury to Corey Kluber and a leukemia diagnosis for Carlos Carrasco.

Civale, like Bieber, made eight starts for Columbus before heading north. Both have been rotation fixtures ever since.

But when injuries again forced the Guardians to rush pitchers two years ago, the results weren’t nearly as promising. Sam Hentges made just three Triple-A appearances (no starts) before struggling badly as a starter in the majors. J.C. Mejia, Logan Allen and Eli Morgan were all rushed before they were ready. Mejia and Allen are no longer in the organization. Hentges and Morgan are now relievers.

None carried the prospect pedigree of Bibee, either. He blazed through High-A last year with a 2.59 ERA and 86 strikeouts in 59 innings. He was equally impressive in Double-A: a 1.83 ERA and 81 strikeouts in 73 2/3 innings. The 98 mph he’s throwing in early April could easily be 99-100 in the summer warmth of June.

The only question now is where will the radar gun be located: Cleveland or Columbus? The Guardians may have to make that decision sooner than anyone realized.

A tale of 2 hitters: Guardians’ Josh Bell, Myles Straw are so different, but share some parallels CLEVELAND, OH - APRIL 12: Cleveland Guardians first baseman Josh Bell (55) singles during the first inning of the the Major League Baseball game between the New York Yankees and Cleveland Guardians on April 12, 2023, at Progressive Field in Cleveland, OH. (Photo by Frank Jansky/Icon Sportswire) (Icon Sportswire via AP Images)
By Zack Meisel
6h ago

22
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CLEVELAND — They couldn’t be more different in terms of stature, skill set and presence at the plate.

Josh Bell, listed at 6-foot-4 and 260 pounds, boasts the shoulders and power of a left tackle or an ox. When he’s fully functioning, each swing presents a threat to the bleacher seats and the ozone layer. Myles Straw, listed at 5-foot-9 and 185 pounds, provides much of his value with his legs and his glove. He hasn’t hit a home run outside of Arizona since 2021.

And yet, there are parallels in their process at the plate, some overlapping trends that explain past and present cold spells and the team’s tactics to end those outages.

Straw is enjoying another early-season surge after he hit .291 with a .387 on-base percentage last April. He proceeded to post a .178/.245/.221 slash line over the ensuing four months in 2022 before rebounding in September. He visited Cleveland for a few days over the winter to meet with two experts on the organization’s hitting board — hitting coach Chris Valaika and run production coordinator Jason Esposito — to pinpoint a remedy that would prevent him from repeating such a sequence.

They addressed some mechanical tweaks regarding Straw’s “loading pattern,” identifying a more efficient swing process that would “get him into his back hip” more rapidly, better positioning him to pounce on pitches.

The overarching theme, though, was about his intent in the batter’s box. What’s the strategy cycling through a hitter’s mind as he strolls toward home plate?

Consider what Straw does well in the batter’s box.
Myles Straw's WHIFF rates by year
2021

97th percentile

94th percentile
2022

99th percentile

97th percentile
2023

90th percentile

90th percentile

Translation: He doesn’t swing-and-miss very often, and he doesn’t offer at pitches outside the zone. That’s a great foundation for any hitter.

When things went south last season, though, Straw almost leaned too much on those skills. He became defensive and passive, which played into pitchers’ hands. Straw’s walk rate dipped as the season unfolded, coinciding with his overall production plummeting. As Valaika detailed it, Straw too often erred on the side of caution. Pitchers attacked the strike zone, he fell behind in counts and ultimately made weaker contact against a pitch the pitcher wanted to make, not needed to make.

Confidence plays a role in this, of course, but Straw has excelled at dictating more of the action so far in 2023. The early returns are a .308 average and a .449 OBP, and that has fueled six stolen bases in as many attempts.
Myles Straw visited Cleveland for a few days over the winter to meet with Chris Valaika and Jason Esposito. (D. Ross Cameron / USA Today)

“The more aggressive you are and trust your eyes,” Valaika said, “you end up walking more because it’s more of the yes-yes-no mentality, rather than the no-no-yes mentality, where you’re a click late and fouling off pitches that are in the zone, something that you should have impacted.

In other words, a hitter who steps into the batter’s box with any hesitancy is already a step behind. But it can be difficult to shake that state when mired in an extended funk.

And that’s where Bell enters the equation.

Bell has drawn a bunch of walks this season, but, well, that’s about it. He has logged a .109/.250/.130 slash line. He has beaten a lot of pitches into the ground, enough to wake every groundhog hibernating beneath the Progressive Field infield. His launch angle reflects as much, as it’s still a negative number, and Valaika said that’s “not by design.” His timing is off.

“I think it’s just contact point and body position at contact,” Bell said.

That can be a product of timing. Bell said he’s trying to simplify things and focus on making quality contact, but it’s human nature to press and to allow a slump to snowball. And as a switch hitter, he said he sometimes feels he’s attempting to fix two hitting approaches at once. So, the regressing contact point could also stem from the same defensiveness that plagued Straw last year.

“As results go south,” Valaika said, “you tend to become more defensive and try to find hits and make sure it’s the right pitch. And then you get beat on those borderline pitches.”

Valaika noted the two situations — Straw’s 2022 struggles and Bell’s start to 2023 — are comparable, not by expected results, but by plan of attack. The Guardians obviously didn’t sign Bell to scuffle from the No. 6 spot in manager Terry Francona’s lineup. They talked him up all winter and spring as an ideal hitter to lurk behind José Ramírez. History suggests he’ll reverse course.

“Across my career,” Bell said, “when I get in trouble, my launch angle is just off.”
Josh Bell's 2023 vs. career metrics
Expected average

.164

.267
Expected slugging percentage

.196

.453
Hard-hit rate

34.5 percent

42.4 percent

Expected metrics are calculated by a hitter’s quality of contact. Bell hasn’t made much quality contact. Therefore, he hasn’t inflicted much damage.

“You’re in that mode,” he said, “of, that success hasn’t been there, so you don’t want to swing-and-miss, so then the contact suffers. Even though you put it in play, it’s not the damage you could have done.”

That certainly describes Bell’s issues. The 30-year-old has been prone to skids like this in the past.

“Historically with him, it’s riding that wave,” Valaika said. “There are times when he’s red-hot and there are times when we’re trying to get him back on track.”

Bell contributed a walk-off RBI on Sunday by chopping a ball at an exit velocity of 70.3 mph. He did deliver a double Tuesday, his first extra-base hit of the season. He notched an RBI single Wednesday.

“Just ride the wave,” Valaika said.

Bell said his at-bats in recent days have been more competitive. He’s aiming to hit the ball in the air more, to remind his new team and city how he compiled an .810 OPS in seven seasons before joining the Guardians.

“I’m still smothering the baseball a click and hitting too many groundballs,” he said, “but I think we’re trending in the right direction.”

State of the Guardians: Back and forth on the rotation, lineup and bullpen Feb 28, 2023; Peoria, Arizona, USA; Seattle Cleveland Guardians starting pitcher Logan Allen (88) throws to the plate against Seattle Mariners shortstop J.P. Crawford (3) the first inning of a spring training game at the Peoria Sports Complex. Mandatory Credit: Jayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports
By Zack Meisel and Jason Lloyd
7h ago

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DETROIT — After the Guardians took two of three from the Nationals over the weekend in a series of one-run games, Cleveland writers Zack Meisel and Jason Lloyd dissected the prevailing concerns for manager Terry Francona’s club.

Zack Meisel: Maybe the team has enough potential that we’re merely holding it to a high standard. Maybe certain flaws appear especially troubling because there aren’t simple fixes. Maybe we’re just critical curmudgeons. Whatever the reason, it seems as though it’s easier to nitpick the Guardians through the first 10 percent of the season than it is to highlight what has fueled their 9-7 start.

Before we debate how they should patch together their reeling rotation or how Mike Zunino would fare as a hockey goalie or whether Emmanuel Clase throwing only 98 mph is worth panicking over, let’s cover what has actually spurred the Guardians to a solid first few weeks.

I’ll start with two stats: They lead the American League in both walks and stolen bases. That’s a lethal combination. José Ramírez and Steven Kwan have combined for 23 walks and only 13 strikeouts. (They could be hitting back-to-back, you know …) The Guardians have swiped 25 bases and have been caught four times. Myles Straw has delivered more than anyone could have imagined. So far, they’ve built upon their identity from last season, in which they slashed and dashed the Twins and White Sox into oblivion. It remains refreshing to watch and, assuming a few proven hitters reverse course on their slow starts, it should be a treat to follow all summer.

Jason Lloyd: I asked Francona during spring training if he felt like they properly addressed the power outage from last season with the addition of Josh Bell and any sort of organic growth from Oscar Gonzalez, Josh Naylor and anyone else. He said, and I’m paraphrasing, that they played that way because that offered the best path to winning and if they have to, they’ll do it again. I’m not sure what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that. It basically sounded like Tito was saying they were going to have to do it again.

I love watching this team play. I continually marvel at how this front office operates and how Tito gets the best out of everyone. But, as I told you in the press box during the home opener, we know how this ends. We saw the slash-and-dash style last year and it ended exactly how so many feared it would. So why will this year be any different? You scolded me in the press box then, so the gentleman from Ohio will yield the rest of his time so you can do it now publicly for the masses. Flog away.

Meisel: First, it’s more fun to scold you than to agree with you. Second, I think it’s too early to proclaim we know exactly what this offense will look like when it’s clicking. Ramírez, Bell, Naylor and Gonzalez have combined for four home runs. There’s more in there. And if there’s not, there needs to be an upgrade to that group in July. The Guardians certainly don’t possess the power the Yankees or Astros do (or the Rays, apparently), and maybe that’ll ultimately be their downfall again, but I suspect they’ll eventually boast enough power to at least pose more of a threat to score runs in different ways.

I just don’t think the lineup is the primary concern this year. And that’s with Naylor looking unplayable against lefties, Bell and Amed Rosario looking largely lost and Gonzalez relinquishing his hold on the right field spot.

The starting rotation is in a rough spot. There are short-term and long-term questions. I think I can answer the long-term part of the equation by directing your attention to Columbus and Akron (and maybe Milwaukee or some other major-league city). But how the Guardians get there, how they survive the next month or two with Triston McKenzie and Aaron Civale sidelined, how they avoid putting a strain on their bullpen, which until the last couple of days had led the league in innings — I’m not quite sure. I don’t think the front office had “Non-member of the 40-man roster Peyton Battenfield makes his major-league debut by starting against the Yankees two weeks into the season” on their bingo card.

Lloyd: Well, now I’m going to make you mad and agree with you. I wholeheartedly concur that “the pitching is more concerning than the lineup” — at least right now. We shared those concerns in the offseason.

Going into last season, the Guardians were willing to spend money and make moves to upgrade the lineup, but only if it was an appreciably better upgrade than what they already had in-house. I sort of feel like they approached pitching upgrades the same way over the winter. They weren’t going to sign a veteran just to sign a veteran when they have Logan Allen, Daniel Espino, Gavin Williams and Tanner Bibee to evaluate at the major-league level at some point this season. It was just difficult to predict two significant injuries by mid-April would stress the depth so early.

I’ve already written about how I want to see Bibee here, but this organization historically gives pitchers seven to eight starts in Triple A before bringing them up. Given that history, is it fair to believe the Guardians are just trying to hold onto the rope long enough to get these guys a few more starts in Columbus, then we’ll start seeing Allen and/or Bibee around Memorial Day?

Until then, it certainly feels like the most pressure is on Cal Quantrill to stack quality starts. Shane Bieber is Shane Bieber. You know exactly what you’ll get from him almost every time out. Now with so much uncertainty everywhere else, it’s on Quantrill to at least get to the sixth and into the seventh, otherwise this bullpen could get cooked before the gas grills get ignited this summer.
Cal Quantrill logged a 5.74 ERA in his first three starts. (David Richard / USA Today)

Meisel: Right, the rotation was already under the microscope because no one was certain about what Zach Plesac and Civale would provide. And now, 10 minutes into the season, Civale is injured again and they’re counting on Plesac to offer stability.

I’m not sure how long the current arrangement can remain in place, and the Guardians have a better feel on the readiness of Allen or Bibee than I do, but this is, ironically, somewhat reminiscent of when they desperately summoned Plesac and Civale in 2019. I’d probably have Allen make his next start in Cleveland this weekend, and I wouldn’t have Bibee too far behind.

As for the bullpen, before Sunday’s late-inning implosion, Cleveland’s relievers ranked fourth in the majors with a 2.76 ERA. That implosion, in part, stemmed from Clase and James Karinchak being unavailable because they had pitched the night before. (Sam Hentges isn’t too far from returning, for what it’s worth.) When this team wins games, it wins close games. And with the rotation a mess, for this team to win games, it really has to lean on its pen.

It’s worked, to this point, aside from Sunday’s debacle. But can it continue? Does Clase appear a bit more vulnerable than he did the past two years, when he was all but invincible? His first nine appearances this year, his average cutter velocity has fluctuated from 96.5 mph to 98.7 mph. His first nine appearances last year, his average cutter velocity varied from 98.7 mph to 100.1 mph.

I’ve asked around, and people point to the pitch clock, and for valid reasons. Last year, Clase logged one of the slowest tempos of any pitcher, averaging 22.8 seconds per pitch with the bases empty and 26.4 seconds per pitch with runners aboard. Now, thanks to the pitch clock, he’s averaging 16.1 seconds per pitch with the bases empty and 16.3 seconds per pitch with runners aboard. (Note: Baseball Savant measures time between pitches, independent of when the pitch clock starts/ends.)

That’s lower on the list of Guardians concerns, and Clase doesn’t seem panicked about it. A larger issue might be the people catching those pitches.

The Guardians have totaled 15 wild pitches thus far. No other team has reached double digits. Last year, they totaled 49. They’re on pace to eclipse that mark one-third of the way into this season. Cleveland pitchers used to praise former catchers Austin Hedges and Roberto Pérez for granting them the ability to spike a curveball with a runner on third base without worrying a run scoring. Now, there’s no margin for error.

Lloyd: That’s a polite way of saying Mike Zunino is a parking cone.

Meisel: The man has a family! Oddly enough, he’s been the club’s best hitter so far.
Josh Bell was 6-for-12 with a homer run and four doubles against the Nationals. (Brad Mills / USA Today)

Lloyd: Bell finally showed a pulse back in his old ballpark. Will Brennan looks like an everyday player at this point. Straw hasn’t been the liability at the plate that he was last year. But can we talk about Rosario’s .222 average and .609 OPS?

To be fair, Rosario was hitting .200 with a .504 OPS in early May last year. He was equally terrible in April two years ago. There’s no reason to panic; he’s a slow starter. Fine. But I can’t for the life of me understand how Andrés Giménez isn’t hitting second. He’s the second-best hitter on the team and he hits in the lower half of the order. I learned long ago not to question Tito’s brilliance, and I understand what Rosario means to the clubhouse and why Francona is loyal to him. But can’t he be just as loyal with Rosario batting seventh or eighth? Make it make sense.

Meisel: I can’t make it make sense. We should question Francona, though. And we do. He’ll never publicly disparage a player, so it can be difficult to extract an answer that’s going to satisfy the masses. There hasn’t been a noteworthy answer yet; just the typical commentary on Giménez being a versatile hitter who can fill any spot in the lineup and Rosario having a favorable track record. My two cents: As I wrote during spring training, I would’ve had Kwan, Ramírez and Giménez as the top three in my order. But I’m no manager, even if I, too, regularly misplace my car keys and am susceptible to cracking my teeth on harmless food.

The bottom line: We can quibble about various aspects of the Guardians’ start. Much of this will work itself out in time. As you noted, Bell looked much better over the weekend and Brennan has emerged.

But I can’t help but wonder how the rotation will evolve as the season unfolds. That unit might determine whether this team can legitimately contend for a title. And considering this is the organization with the vaunted pitching factory, pondering the strength of the rotation feels strange.

Lloyd: It’s a fun exercise, and I know you’ve done this, to look at the batting order on Opening Day and then again in August. Historically, Cleveland has started out with some Carlos Gonzálezes and Hanley Ramirezes, but those guys are long gone by summer. Maybe, just maybe, that will be the case with the rotation this season.