Yirsandy Rodríguez

There is a visual trick in baseball that is often mistaken for luck or a hot streak: when a pitcher suddenly looks unhittable, it is rarely because his pitches are moving more. Often, it's because he has taken away the fractions of a second a hitter needs to process the pitch. For weeks, Payton Tolle was the definition of talent tied to his own sequencing mistakes. The towering left-hander had the arm and the imposing presence on the mound, but he kept giving away the initiative within the at-bat; he was falling behind in the count, getting himself into trouble and eventually having to rely on his sinker—a pitch opponents have punished to a .400 wOBA allowed this season—to try to get back into the zone. On August 7 against the Athletics, that self-destructive pattern was eliminated. Tolle faced 20 batters and threw 84 pitches. Over the entire game, he threw only eight pitches with the hitter ahead in the count. The impact of that aggression obviously alters a hitter's approach. When a starter does not give you a 1-0 or 2-0 count, he takes away the ability to patiently wait for a favorable offering. The instruction from the dugout to “wait for the fastball over the middle” becomes unworkable; the hitter stops selecting his zone and starts defending the plate from the very first pitch. By taking control of at-bats early, Tolle’s arsenal takes on a devastating dimension, especially against right-handed hitters, who make up the bulk of opposing lineups. As a left-handed pitcher, Tolle’s accumulated numbers against righties border on absurd: he owns a 32.7% K% (96th percentile in MLB), a 15.9% whiff rate (92nd percentile) and a .242 xwOBA (95th percentile). It is not a coincidence. His arsenal is built to tie up right-handed hitters through a combination of movement and velocity. That strategy begins with his release point. Tolle gets 7.4 feet of extension off the mound, putting him in the 98th percentile in the major leagues. When he fell behind in the count during his previous starts, hitters could tolerate that proximity, because the advantage created by his extension lost some of its effect when they could better anticipate the sequence. But once he got ahead in the count, Tolle increased the velocity of his four-seam fastball from his usual 95.5 mph average to a consistent peak of 98.2 mph. Two extra miles per hour, combined with a release point almost on top of the hitter, reduces the recognition window to a point where the swing comes purely out of self-preservation. And if they do make contact, the ball comes off harmlessly: in his last start, the average exit velocity on Tolle’s four-seamer with two strikes was just 77.4 mph. This is where the pièce de résistance comes into play, with a little something I like to call the "vertical finisher." With the hitter rushed in the box to keep up with 98 mph, Tolle introduces his curveball at 84.2 mph (2,502 RPM) from the same release window. The hitter recognizes the arm path, processes the fastball velocity and starts the bat through the zone. By the time the ball loses its lift and drops toward the ground, the swing is already irreversible. With two strikes against the Athletics, Tolle increased his curveball usage to 24.2% (eight pitches), and the result was absolute: a 100% whiff rate, producing five outright strikeouts (62.5% PutAway%). Add a 90.2 mph cutter that recorded a 75% whiff rate in that same situation, and the map of the at-bat is complete. Of the 14 strikeouts he recorded that day, 13 came through that three-level combination (98-mph high fastball / 90-mph cutter in on the hands / 84-mph curveball down). Baseball often looks for complicated explanations in biomechanics or revolutionary grips when a starter takes a leap forward. Payton Tolle’s reality is simpler and more direct: he shelved the inefficient sinker when he was behind, attacked the zone from pitch one, and used his extension to force hitters into committing early. Once you get a hitter swinging on reaction rather than a pre-planned approach, good results are sure to follow. View full article

There is something strange about Erik Miller's numbers. Right-handed hitters have trouble making contact against him. When they do, the ball leaves the bat at just 83.1 mph on average. Miller also generates a 35.6% whiff rate against them. And yet, one out of every five right-handed hitters he faces ends up reaching first base on a walk. How can a reliever have enough stuff to dominate a plate appearance while giving the hitter so many chances not to face him? I think that's the reason the Boston Red Sox bet on him at the trade deadline. Miller still has the tools that made him attractive in San Francisco. His sinker averages 96.9 mph and carries enough movement to attack a hitter's hands. Against left-handed hitters, the results are even more striking: a 34.8% strikeout rate, a 34.3% whiff rate and an average exit velocity of just 80.5 mph. When they do put the ball in play, 60.5% of that contact becomes a groundball. He just needs to find the same groove against righties. Earlier in his career, Miller relied much more heavily on his four-seam fastball (49.7% usage in 2024). In 2026, San Francisco transformed his arsenal: The four-seamer fell to a 9.0% usage rate, while the sinker climbed to 45.0% and the slider to 40.7%. The change makes sense. The sinker allows Miller to attack with velocity and downward movement, while the 86-mph slider gives him another look capable of generating swings and misses. In fact, it has produced an impressive 53.3% whiff rate. Left-handed hitters are obviously the ones directly punished by this pitch mix. A hard fastball that moves in and a sweeping breaker that runs away is a tough combination to deal with, and makes guessing at the plate the only real path toward success. Against a right-handed hitter, that equation changes. The slider no longer moves away from the hitter. It moves toward the plate, while the sinker retains its downward movement and runs toward the hitter's side. Miller still has two pitches capable of producing the result he wants. The key is getting the hitter to choose between them. That is where the problem emerges. Miller is getting the ball into the strike zone too infrequently against right-handed hitters. His Zone% falls to 36.9%. That allows the hitter to change the objective of the at-bat: Instead of deciding which pitch to attack, he can wait for Miller to find the strike he considers perfect enough to swing at. The numbers suggest the problem isn't that right-handed hitters have figured out how to hit his pitches. Miller still generates whiffs and keeps exit velocity down when they make contact. The problem is that he isn't always forcing them to make a decision. And that can change an entire plate appearance. A pitcher with a 96.9-mph sinker and a 115 Stuff+ can live with some contact in the zone if that contact looks like the kind Miller is already producing. A weak groundball can be a way of winning the at-bat. The problem comes when the search for the perfect pitch turns an advantage in stuff into an inability to throw strikes. That is where the Red Sox can make a difference. Andrew Bailey doesn't have to rebuild Miller's arsenal. But he does have to get the left-hander comfortable trusting what is already there. If the sinker can produce weak contact in the zone, the strike doesn't have to be perfect to be useful. And that could change the at-bat from the first pitch. That also helps explain why Miller's profile makes sense in Boston. His sinker has already produced a 53.3% groundball rate, and a reliever who can keep the ball on the ground can have a useful weapon at Fenway Park. But that advantage only exists if Miller allows his pitches to do their work in the strike zone. That is what makes this gamble so interesting. The tools are already there; the question is whether the Red Sox can turn them into a more complete weapon against hitters from both sides of the plate. If they do, the payoff will be huge, perhaps altering the outlook of the bullpen both now and in the future. View full article

Adley Rutschman's production has declined in recent years. The offensive foundation that made him one of baseball's premier young catchers largely hasn't. That distinction helps explain why the Boston Red Sox were willing to make such an aggressive move at the trade deadline. More than big power numbers or instant impact, they were betting on one of the game's rarest offensive skill sets: a hitter who controls the strike zone, consistently makes quality contact, and provides stability behind the plate. Those traits haven't disappeared, even if his recent stat line suggests otherwise. Need also played a significant role in the decision. Boston's catchers have been among the least productive groups in Major League Baseball this season, combining for just 0.2 WAR and a 72 wRC+ prior to the deadline. Offensive production from the position had virtually vanished, while Connor Wong and Carlos Narváez had yet to establish themselves as long-term solutions. The most encouraging evidence that suggests Rutschman is the answer to these woes appears against left-handed pitching. That's where he continues to display the offensive identity that once made him one of the sport's most complete catchers. He chases just 24.2% of pitches outside the strike zone, ranking in the 86th percentile across MLB. His 9.8% strikeout rate sits in the 96th percentile, while his in-zone contact rate ranks in the 91st percentile. His excellent approach continues to show up after contact is made. Against left-handers, Rutschman's .359 expected wOBA ranks in the 89th percentile, while his sweet-spot rate reaches the 91st percentile. Even without elite exit velocity or the barrel rate typically associated with power hitters, Rutschman continues to create value by making smart swing decisions and consistently producing quality contact. His offensive game has always depended more on precision than raw force. But that's also exactly where the disconnect begins. Against left-handed pitching, Rutschman's actual .313 wOBA sits 46 points below his expected .359 mark. The gap suggests that many of his best plate appearances simply haven't produced the results that his quality of contact normally deserves. Part of the explanation lies in Camden Yards. Since Baltimore moved the left-field wall back and raised its height before the 2022 season, well-struck fly balls that once reached the wall—or cleared it altogether—have increasingly turned into routine outs. The ballpark doesn't fully explain Rutschman's offensive decline, but it does help explain why several quality swings failed to produce meaningful damage. Against left-handers, nearly half of his batted balls are hit toward left-center field, precisely the area where Baltimore's redesigned dimensions have become far less forgiving. That context also makes his career numbers at Fenway Park as a visitor less informative than they appear. Most of those plate appearances came batting left-handed against right-handed pitching, an entirely different offensive environment from the one the Red Sox expect to maximize. The more intriguing fit comes when Rutschman bats right-handed against lefties, where Fenway's dimensions create a much friendlier setting for the type of contact that too often went unrewarded in Baltimore. None of this means Boston acquired a hitter whose power production is suddenly about to explode. The biggest question remains the ceiling of his raw power. He has hit just eight home runs this season, and only one has been classified as a no-doubter—his lowest rate since 2022. Fenway may turn a few outs into hits and a few fly balls into doubles, but it won't increase his bat speed or transform him into a middle-of-the-order slugger. What it can do is maximize an offensive skill set that continues to produce remarkably healthy underlying indicators beneath modest surface numbers. The front office didn't bet on the version of Adley Rutschman reflected in this year's stat line. It bet on the catcher whose elite strike-zone control, exceptional contact ability and disciplined offensive process remain firmly intact. If those underlying skills finally begin receiving the results they've consistently earned, the conversation will stop being about what he lost, and rather what he gained upon arriving in Boston. View full article

A month ago, the Boston Red Sox appeared to be approaching a difficult decision: sell or keep trying to compete. With the team outside the playoff race, names like Aroldis Chapman, Jarren Duran and Sonny Gray were emerging in trade discussions. They had players capable of attracting interest from other clubs, and Craig Breslow had to decide whether to turn those assets into pieces for the future. The situation changed after a positive stretch over the past few weeks pushed the Red Sox back into the American League Wild Card race. However, Boston’s first move before the trade deadline was not the type of move made by a traditional buyer searching for an immediate solution. The club acquired infielder Curtis Mead from the Nationals in exchange for left-hander Connelly Early, a young starter who had already shown the ability to compete at the major-league level. Both teams swapped players with several years of control, but with different needs: Washington was looking for rotation help, while Boston needed more right-handed offensive production. The trade provides the first glimpse into the Red Sox's deadline strategy: they are not fully buying or selling. They are targeting players who can help them compete now while preserving the flexibility needed for the future. The move makes sense based on the roster's needs, but it also represents the type of calculated gamble the Red Sox appear willing to make at this deadline. They gave up a young pitcher with rotation upside for a hitter who still needs to prove that his resurgence with Washington can be sustained. The bigger question is whether this middle ground — adding controllable talent without making an all-in move — is enough to raise the competitive ceiling of a team that has returned to the postseason race. Mead is under team control through 2030 and joins a lineup that needed a right-handed bat capable of creating more impact, especially against left-handed pitchers. The front office bet on a player who can help in the playoff race now while still fitting into Boston’s long-term plans. That is one of the reasons Breslow was willing to pay a significant price. Mead arrives after posting a .352 OBP, a .500 slugging percentage and a 134 wRC+ with the Nationals, a major difference from the player who raised questions during his first years in the majors. His strikeout rate dropped to 19%, and that improvement at the plate helped change the perception of his offensive potential. Simply put, the team believed that profile fit better than Early's within its current situation. An established veteran would have offered more immediate certainty, but it also would have required a higher cost for a player with fewer years of control. Mead represents a different type of investment: a player who can help in 2026 without limiting Boston’s future decisions. The Red Sox still have needs that could determine their ceiling in October. If Breslow believes this team has a legitimate chance to compete, this trade should not be viewed as the all-in move before the deadline. Instead, it should be viewed as the blueprint: adding players who improve the present without sacrificing the future. View full article

Masataka Yoshida was not struggling in the way that usually concerns a contact hitter. He was still recognizing pitches, controlling the strike zone, and making contact against offerings that many hitters cannot handle. The problem was that pitchers were no longer paying the price when they made mistakes against him. During June, Yoshida turned one of his greatest strengths into a limitation. His ability to find the baseball remained intact, but too many of those batted-ball events produced trajectories that favored the defense. Opposing pitchers did not need to beat him with velocity, deception, or a perfectly sequenced attack. They could challenge him with four-seam fastballs, accept that he would put the ball in play, and trust that the result would be a manageable out. When a hitter built around contact goes through an offensive slump, the first question is usually whether something in the process has broken: Is he swinging and missing more? Chasing more pitches? Losing bat speed? But that did not describe what was happening with Yoshida. The difference was what happened after contact. To understand what's been going on under the hood, we'll look to where all slumps start: with fastballs. That pitch has always been one of the most important tests for Yoshida because it represents the opportunity to punish the type of mistake he is built to attack. If pitchers could throw fastballs in the zone and survive, they had found a simple solution against a hitter whose game depends on taking advantage of mistakes. During June, that approach worked. Against fastballs, Yoshida hit .222 with a .370 slugging percentage. Month AVG vs Fastballs SLG vs Fastballs xSLG Exit Velocity Launch Angle June .222 .370 .329 88.4 mph 0° July .333 .778 .594 91.0 mph 14° The change in July appears in one number that explains the transformation better than any batting average: launch angle. In June, Yoshida averaged 0 degrees against fastballs. His contact was producing a trajectory that turned good swings into predictable outcomes (i.e., grounders) for the defense. For a hitter whose advantage comes from consistently finding the baseball, that was the worst possible scenario: winning the battle against the pitch but losing the outcome of the at-bat. In July, that dynamic has started to change. Yoshida’s launch angle against fastballs has increased to 14 degrees, while his average exit velocity climbed from 88.4 mph to 91.0 mph. The difference may look small on a spreadsheet, but it completely changes how pitchers must evaluate their mistakes. The most interesting part of Yoshida’s adjustment is that it did not come from searching for a new offensive identity; his whiff rate against fastballs dropped from 17.6% in June to 15.2% in July. In other words, Yoshida did not start producing more damage because he started selling out for power. And, in turn, the power has actually returned on its own: His xSLG against fastballs jumped from .329 to .594. The recent results are eye-catching. In his first 26 plate appearances of July, Yoshida posted a .385 batting average, a .731 slugging percentage and a 217 wRC+. That production is not sustainable over a full season, and his .381 BABIP suggests some of that performance will naturally decline over time. But that is not what's important; the real question is whether Yoshida regained the ability that changes how pitchers can attack him. If so, the Red Sox have regained a key weapon in their lineup for the second half, just in time for a surge that has them right back in the thick of the playoff hunt. View full article

Thanks! I appreciate that. Hopefully it's worth the second read. I wanted to explain why Bennett has been so effective, not just what the numbers say. I'd love to hear your thoughts after you've had that coffee.

Since making his MLB debut on May 1, Jake Bennett has posted a 3.27 ERA and a 3.11 FIP through six starts. Those are impressive numbers for a rookie, but they raise a more interesting question than the results themselves: How is he doing this with a repertoire that lacks a true overpowering pitch? Bennett doesn't throw 100 mph. He doesn't feature a wipeout slider. He has five pitches, none of which qualifies as elite on its own. Yet he just held the Yankees to three hits across 6 1/3 innings. No single pitch explains Bennett's success, but the way they work together does. His changeup does more than generate whiffs, it forces hitters to respect a speed differential that makes both his four-seam fastball and sinker play above their raw quality. Bennett throws the changeup 25.1% of the time. Hitters chase it outside the strike zone 39% of the time and swing through 34.7% of those chases. Even when they make contact, they produce just a .151 expected batting average and a .166 expected slugging percentage. Those are elite results. More important, they explain why the rest of Bennett's arsenal works. His four-seam fastball carries a .301 expected slugging percentage against, while the sinker sits at .388. Neither pitch overwhelms hitters on its own. But opponents can't simply sit on either one because they always have to account for the possibility of the changeup. Jake Bennett's MLB pitch mix (2026) Pitch Usage% Whiff% xBA xSLG HardHit% Fourseam 33.0% 29.2% .187 .301 42.3% Changeup 25.1% 34.7% .151 .166 23.8% Sinker 28.4% 8.2% .250 .388 37.8% Sweeper 5.8% 28.6% .303 .421 20.0% Curveball 4.6% 18.2% .223 .730 25.0% Movement is what separates the changeup from the rest of the group. It averages 82.8 mph, nearly 10 mph slower than Bennett’s 92.5 mph sinker, while generating roughly 12 inches of horizontal break. Out of his hand, it resembles a fastball. By the time hitters recognize the difference, their swing decision has already been made. The pitch has produced just a .238 batting average on balls in play, and the quality of contact is even more telling. Hitters rarely square it up. They arrive late, swing underneath it or catch it off the end of the bat, leading to a 23.8% hard-hit rate, the lowest of any pitch Bennett throws. His approach also changes with the count. Bennett has thrown 52% of his changeups while ahead, repeatedly starting the pitch on the edge of the strike zone before letting it fade away from barrels. Hitters chase it outside the zone, making contact on only 57.6% of those swings, well below the league average. That approach helped him retire 14 of the first 15 batters he faced in his latest outing. Bat tracking metrics reinforce the same point. Only 2.9% of contact against Bennett’s changeup qualifies as perfect contact. Seventy percent of swings produce flawed contact, and hitters properly match the bat to the ball’s path only 35.7% of the time. Contact quality by pitch (Bat Tracking) Pitch Perfect Contact % Flawed Swing % Lined Up % Changeup 2.9% 70.0% 35.7% Four-seam 6.0% 55.0% 30.6% Sinker 9.0% 9.0% 8.7% Hitters fail to line up Bennett's four-seam fastball 69.4% of the time and his sinker 91.3% of the time. The changeup is different because it wins before contact ever happens. Hitters commit to the wrong pitch, and the quality of contact suffers as a result. The Yankees saw that firsthand on Saturday. Bennett threw 87 pitches—34% four-seamers, 30% sinkers and 23% changeups. Afterward, Bennett explained where part of that plan came from. "Being able to watch Payton Tolle and Connelly Early pitch and have so much success really helped me formulate my game plan." He's studying what works for fellow left-handers and adapting those ideas to his own strengths. Bennett will never be a power pitcher. No individual pitch grades as a true plus offering, yet together they create a repertoire that's far more difficult to solve than its individual pieces suggest. The margin for error, though, is small. If hitters stop chasing the changeup outside the strike zone, Bennett will have to throw more fastballs and sinkers in the zone. His four-seamer has allowed a 42.3% hard-hit rate. His sinker sits at 37.8%. Asking those pitches to carry more of the workload could expose the repertoire. That makes command—and the continued development of his curveball and sweeper—the next step in his progression. For now, Bennett has shown that sequencing, command and pitch design can still beat pure velocity. The Red Sox have now produced 10 consecutive quality starts, and during a first half defined by injuries and inconsistency, Bennett's emergence alongside Tolle and Early has become one of the organization's few genuinely encouraging developments. View full article

When the Boston Red Sox assembled their rotation for 2026, they envisioned something very different. Garrett Crochet was supposed to be the centerpiece. Brayan Bello was expected to solidify himself as one of the group’s long-term pillars. Veteran arms would provide reliability while younger pitchers continued their development. It wasn’t a flawless plan, but it was a clear one, and one Boston believed it could build around. Crochet made only six starts before suffering an injury. Bello never found consistency. Johan Oviedo effectively lost the season. Patrick Sandoval’s return timetable stretched far longer than expected. As the months passed, it appeared the organization’s pitching depth was about to face its toughest test. While much of the attention remained on the injured list and the pitchers who failed to meet expectations, the Red Sox quietly began uncovering a new backbone for their staff. Alongside veteran leader Sonny Gray, Ranger Suárez brought consistency. Payton Tolle flashed the upside of a pitcher capable of becoming much more. Connelly Early stepped in and shouldered meaningful innings at exactly the right time. None of them entered the season expected to become central figures in Boston’s plans. Now it is nearly impossible to explain where the Red Sox stand without mentioning all three. Pitcher IP ERA FIP WAR Ranger Suárez 76 2.93 2.84 2.3 Payton Tolle 58 2.93 3.09 1.7 Connelly Early 81 3.64 4.87 0.4 Suárez may be the easiest pitcher in this group to overlook. He does not light up radar guns. His average fastball sits just above 91 mph. He also does not rank among the staff leaders in pure stuff metrics. Yet the results continue to follow, and the explanation lies in the way he attacks hitters. While many starters rely on power, Suárez builds his outings through location, sequencing, and execution. His 105 Location+ reflects a pitcher who understands how to manipulate an at-bat, move hitters around the strike zone, and force uncomfortable decisions. His success is not tied to a single dominant weapon but to a combination of command, intelligence, and an ability to avoid damaging mistakes. That formula has allowed him to remain effective against hitters from both sides of the plate while emerging as Boston’s most dependable starter through the first half. Every young rotation needs a stabilizing presence. Not necessarily an ace, but someone capable of stopping problems from snowballing when adversity arrives. Suárez has filled that role better than anyone could have anticipated. If Ranger Suárez represents reliability, Payton Tolle represents upside. The 24-year-old left-hander possesses the kind of arsenal that can alter an organization’s outlook. His fastball averages 96.4 mph, and his 115 Stuff+ ranks first among Boston starters. But the most intriguing part of his profile is not the velocity or any individual metric. Tolle generates swings. He generates chase. He puts opponents in a position where they must respond to his pitches rather than dictate the at-bat themselves. No starter on the staff produces more swings or a higher chase rate. That kind of ability is difficult to teach. Pitcher K% BB% Stuff+ Pitching+ Payton Tolle 25.4% 6.8% 115 107 Ranger Suárez 24.2% 7.7% 95 100 Connelly Early 22.5% 8.8% 102 99 June brought the first meaningful adjustments from opposing hitters and a slight decline in Tolle’s strikeout rate. That is a natural stage in the development of any young pitcher who begins accumulating major-league exposure. Hitters study tendencies, identify patterns, and eventually force a counterpunch. The velocity is still there. The swing-and-miss ability is still there. The traits that make him such an intriguing long-term piece are still there. The next stage of his development will be proving he can adapt as quickly as opposing hitters do. Then there is Early, whose contribution may be the least flashy and, in many ways, one of the most valuable. Unlike Tolle, he is not viewed as a future star. Unlike Suárez, he does not thrive through elite command. What he has done instead is something every organization needs and rarely celebrates enough: take the ball every fifth day and continue piling up innings. The underlying metrics suggest some regression could eventually arrive. His ERA has outperformed both his FIP and xFIP, and several recent indicators point in that direction. But even if some correction comes, it does not diminish what he has already provided during a season defined by uncertainty. Boston needed someone capable of keeping the rotation afloat. Early answered the call. Boston needed someone who could prevent every injury from becoming a larger problem. He answered that call as well. That type of value often receives less attention than it deserves. What makes this story especially compelling is that it does not require ignoring the questions that remain. Concerns about Crochet’s health have not disappeared. Bello is still searching for answers. The rotation remains a work in progress. But the Red Sox now possess something that seemed far less certain a few months ago: multiple avenues toward a sustainable future. Suárez has shown he can stabilize the rotation today. Tolle has displayed the tools to grow into a far larger role. Early has proven he belongs in a major-league rotation. Perhaps none of them were part of the original blueprint. Then again, organizations often discover their best solutions only after they are forced to abandon the script. And if Boston eventually builds its next great rotation, there is a chance the story begins here—with three pitchers who stepped into an unexpected opportunity and turned it into something much larger. View full article