Why the courageous Marlins no longer want to be in the middle
The worst place in baseball is the middle. Middle of the standings. Middle of the draft. Middle of the road. Clowns to the left, jokers to the right. Never should this be any more evident than in the last week of July, teams’ final opportunities to fortify themselves and steel for two months that determine whether they can escape the perils of mediocrity.
What happened Friday, then, illustrated the evolution of baseball in the times of prospect deification: a team endeavored to save itself from the middle and got flayed for it. And, sure, the Miami Marlins may end up there anyway, because the trade they made with the San Diego Padres to receive starting pitchers Andrew Cashner and Colin Rea on its surface improves them only incrementally. Yet it is almost unfashionable now for a team not in the catbird’s seat to make a run at the playoffs, where, as we should’ve well learned by now, anything is possible.
Not, at least, when it costs the sort of haul the Marlins gave up: hard-throwing right-hander Luis Castillo, powerful-swinging Josh Naylor, lockdown bullpen ace Carter Capps and major league starter Jarred Cosart. Sounds like quite a haul for two pitchers with ERAs of 4.76 and 4.98, and, well, it is.
Unless, of course, you change the adjectives in front of the new Padres’ names: still-in-A-ball soon-to-be-24-year-old Luis Castillo, first-base-only-and-maybe-just-a-DH Josh Naylor, currently-on-the-DL-after-Tommy John-surgery reliever Carter Capps and thus-far-failed major league starter Jarred Cosart. Eek. Look at it from that perspective, and Padres general manager A.J. Preller isn’t quite as worthy of the MacArthur Fellowship being bestowed upon him.
Prospect culture has done something very odd: lessen the perception of value for major league talent. Making the major leagues is exceedingly difficult. The failure rate for even top prospects sustaining big league careers is enormous. There’s but a small chance that Castillo or Naylor’s major league career lasts as long as Cashner’s. And yet because they’ve yet to fail – because they’re pure fantasy, their careers nothing but whimsical thoughts – they are considered superior to the flawed reality of a major leaguer.
Or even the major leaguer without perceptible playing flaws. However bad a person Aroldis Chapman may be, on the mound his excellence is indisputable. He strikes out more hitters than anyone ever. He has stopped walking guys this year. He doesn’t give up home runs. Or, for that matter, hits. His fastball averages over 100 mph. And, on top of that, he was exactly what the Chicago Cubs needed: a dominant ninth-inning type to lengthen their bullpen.
After the Cubs dealt for Chapman this week, the same word attached itself to the haul they gave the Yankees: overpay. Shortstop Gleyber Torres is a consensus top-50 prospect. Right-hander Adam Warren was a useful major leaguer for New York last season. Billy McKinney is probably a fourth outfielder but a big leaguer. And the Cubs added a lotto-ticket prospect, Rashad Crawford, on top of that. In some circles, the Cubs got clowned, just as the Boston Red Sox had after surrendering top pitching prospect Anderson Espinoza to the Padres for starter Drew Pomeranz.
Much of this has been blamed on a seller’s market driving up the prices on players, and that may well prove to be true. There may be something else at play, though, a recognition that the trade market, much like the free agent market, is not a rational place. The Cubs are considered by many the smartest organization in baseball, and they willingly paid heavily for three months of a player who throws one inning at a time. The actions of one team do not make a market, but the pattern is now set: Teams that believe they can win will “overpay.”
Which leaves us with the Marlins. They haven’t played in the postseason since they won the World Series in 2003. Their ownership fleeced taxpayers into building a stadium that often sits half-empty. Their farm system, after the graduation of most of their prospects, is Dust Bowl barren. Their payrolls are typically a joke. It’s a really hard franchise to root for. The only panacea is winning.
This team can win. Giancarlo Stanton looks like a $325 million man again. Christian Yelich is a blossoming star. Marcell Ozuna played like one the first half. Dee Gordon is back from his PED suspension. Martin Prado could win a batting title. J.T. Realmuto might be the most underappreciated player in the National League. Justin Bour is headed toward his second consecutive .800-plus OPS season. Adeiny Hechavarria is a wizard at shortstop. That’s one hell of a starting eight, and when Jose Fernandez is on the mound, it’s the sort of team that frightens the other wild card.
The chances of the Marlins catching the Nationals in the NL East aren’t great, but they’re currently tied for the second wild card and just two games back of the Kershaw-less Dodgers for the first. The loss of Fernandez for stretches over the next two months – the plan is to limit him to around 180 innings, with skipped starts and managed pitch counts leaving it a bit malleable – certainly doesn’t help the cause. And that’s why in addition to targeting Cashner, who outside of Rich Hill was perhaps the highest-upside starter on the market, they honed in on Rea, who gives them rotation depth and can be a right-handed complement to the Marlins’ biggest breakout this season, left-hander Adam Conley, similarly a big-bodied, big-stuff guy who has made himself in a middle-of-the-rotation staple.
Cashner is the wild card for them to get the wild card. He is capable of greatness in short stretches. Like, the entire 2014 season. And the last two months of the 2013 season, when he threw 63⅔ innings of 1.70 ERA baseball. His stuff hasn’t dropped off demonstrably from then. Cashner is, more or less, what he’s always been: The ace who isn’t.
Preller did exactly what he should’ve done with Cashner: turn him into a combination of volume and high ceiling. He should be applauded for the talent he’s collecting as the Padres rebuild. Castillo can throw 100 mph. Naylor could hit 30 home runs. Capps can close. Cosart can be a back-end rotation type or a big-time setup arm. The Padres are in a place where they can, and should, dream.
The Marlins are somewhere else entirely. Prioritizing now is complicated. Some teams are deep enough that they can look at 2017 and 2018 and beyond while looking at 2016. That’s not the Marlins. They are doing this for today, hopeful it spawns something greater. The percentages aren’t necessarily on their side. They might not make the playoffs. If they do, Fernandez might have an off day. If he doesn’t, they get the pleasure of facing the Cubs. Their path to the World Series isn’t gilded; it’s laden with potholes and in desperate need of paving.
It’s their path, though, and they’re owning it, and for that – for embracing today – they deserve credit. It’s a bold concept nowadays, but they’ve taken to heart what everyone in the game understands: The value of winning is, in the most literal sense, priceless.
Even if they turn out to be the clowns, the jokers, the Marlins can tell themselves they went for it. In a time when so many won’t, there’s something noble in that.
