I’m trying to picture the scene.
Garrett Crochet walking into the Los Angeles Dodgers’ clubhouse, the clubhouse of Mookie Betts and Freddie Freeman, Shohei Ohtani and, ahem, Clayton Kershaw.
“Guys, great to meet you, so excited to be here,” Crochet might say, before alluding to his intended workload the rest of the season. “But sorry, I won’t be pitching in the playoffs.”
Can you imagine? I can’t.
I also can’t imagine Crochet pulling the same stunt in the Baltimore Orioles’ clubhouse (“Hi, Corbin!), the Philadelphia Phillies’ clubhouse (“Hey, Bryce!) or the clubhouse of any other team that might acquire him. Some players might support him, knowing he has yet to earn big money. But at the very least, the situation would be awkward.
Which is why this isn’t over, can’t be over and won’t be over until the trade deadline at 6 p.m. ET Tuesday, assuming Crochet isn’t traded before then, which he absolutely should be.
The market for Crochet remains active, according to sources briefed on the trade discussions involving him. While certain teams are reluctant to move forward because of his reported refusal to pitch in the playoffs without a contract extension, other clubs continue to pursue him. The San Diego Padres and Dodgers, two clubs in the mix from the start, are believed to be among them.
Frankly, Crochet’s stance should deter no one.
Crochet, 25, seems like a decent sort. He’s certainly a heck of a pitcher. But hello? He has had three good months as a major-league starter – April wasn’t so hot – and now he’s leveraging his newfound success as if he was an established, future Hall of Fame ace.
The Chicago White Sox should ignore him. The teams pursuing him should ignore him. And the day he is traded, he should stand up at his news conference and say, “This came out all wrong. I’ll work with my new team. My goal is to help us win a World Series.”
The current Crochet Plan – remain a starter the rest of the season, stay on a regular turn and pitch in October only if awarded an extension – makes him look selfish and entitled. And if the plan is his own and not the handiwork of his agency, CAA, well, then his agency should have advised him against it.
CAA, however, used a similar tactic when Josh Hader was with the Milwaukee Brewers, advising him to impose limits on his workload until a team gave him a long-term contract. The Brewers invited such a response by working Hader hard, then beating him in arbitration. They ended up trading him, but Hader ultimately got what he wanted, a five-year, $95 million free-agent contract with the Houston Astros.
Some teams might fear CAA would take the same tack with Crochet, telling him, “Trust us. Stay strong. We’ll get you your money in the end.” And Crochet, if he were traded, could always cite some physical ailment later in the season, effectively foiling any plan to use him in the playoffs – and negating the entire point of acquiring him at the deadline in the first place.
Like Hader – and any player, for that matter – Crochet is right to be concerned about his health. He underwent Tommy John surgery in April 2022. This is his first season as a professional starter. He already has thrown 111 1/3 innings, and his previous career-high was 65 in his sophomore year at Tennessee.
Lest anyone forget, the White Sox created this mess, too.
In 2020, Crochet missed the first three weeks of his junior season at Tennessee with mild shoulder soreness. He wound up pitching only 3 1/3 innings; COVID ended the college campaign after four weeks. If not for his abbreviated work, he might have gone higher than 11th in the draft, where the White Sox grabbed him.
Fast forward to that September, in the middle of the COVID-shortened major-league season. One day after clinching their first playoff spot since 2008, the White Sox called up Crochet, who had been training at their alternate site. He became the first player to make his professional debut in the majors since Mike Leake in 2010, joining the team as a reliever and making the postseason roster.
So enamored were the White Sox with his performance, they kept him a reliever in 2021. Crochet made 54 appearances, then blew out his elbow the following spring. Considering all that, it’s difficult to blame him for wanting to assume greater control of his career.
No team can be trusted to protect a pitcher. No team has proven capable of doing it. But here’s the thing: A team that acquires Crochet will have built-in incentive to keep him as healthy as possible. Because of the talent it parted with to get him. And because of his two additional years of control beyond this season.
As tight as teams are with money, as risk-averse as their front offices can be, the idea of committing an extension to ensure Crochet will pitch in the postseason is almost laughable. If Crochet continues pitching every fifth day, as is his intention, he might be spent by October, anyway.
The Dodgers, though, might be the one team willing to give Crochet an extension, if they believe he is a No. 1 starter and if Crochet is willing to sign a relatively team-friendly deal. For a team that spent $1 billion last winter, Crochet would be just another addition to its investment portfolio. But would even the Dodgers, with all the uncertainty in their rotation, sacrifice major prospects for Crochet when his ability to help them win the World Series this season would be in question?
The whole thing is so complicated. A trade of Crochet was never going to be easy. The White Sox, holding a pitcher with a 1.87 ERA in his last 15 starts, understandably value him as a No. 1 starter. Interested clubs, knowing Crochet will reach some sort of innings limit, do not see it the same way, at least not for 2024.
A deal, then, might be easier to complete in the offseason. Crochet will have one season as a starter under him, a foundation of perhaps 150 to 160 innings. The team that acquires him will inherit his remaining two years of arbitration, but starting from a relatively low number, his current $800,000 salary.
Maybe that would be the best outcome, for Crochet, and for the White Sox, too. On the other hand, it would require Crochet staying with his woebegone team for the rest of the season, something no reasonably competitive person would desire. Crochet is such a person. Otherwise, he would not have reached the highest level of his profession.
Some team should call his bluff. I can’t imagine Crochet walking into a clubhouse full of players pushing toward one goal, looking each of them in the eye and offering some variation of the following:
“I’m good for the regular season. But you guys will just have to win the World Series without me.”
(Top photo of Garrett Crochet: Rich Storry/Getty Images)
