The future of the Cincinnati Reds arrived at PNC Park in Pittsburgh for the 2006 Futures Game, a flame-throwing first rounder out of Texas, whose right arm carried so many of the franchise’s hopes and dreams. Just 20 at the time, the kid had the looks, the blazing fastball, and the guts to hopscotch between the lines of cockiness and confidence.
In the opposite dugout was a quiet, polite Canadian kid, a first baseman at Double-A Chattanooga.
Homer Bailey was the main event, already anointed the next great Cincinnati Red. Joey Votto was the afterthought.
It was on that day that I first introduced myself to him. He was quiet, economical with his words and utterly forgettable. He was watching the U.S. team take batting practice from the visitor’s dugout at PNC, where he’d play 111 more times after that day. It might also be the last time Votto could be described as “utterly forgettable.”
Nearly 20 years later, Votto announced his retirement. He became more than the future of the Cincinnati Reds. He cemented himself as one of the most memorable and accomplished players in the history of the storied franchise.
“I’m just not good anymore,” Votto wrote Wednesday on Instagram, announcing his retirement on his own terms.
Votto shared the news on a day of significance. His Cincinnati Reds were wrapping up their three-game series in his hometown of Toronto, during a week that many fans had circled on their calendars this spring as soon as he signed a minor-league deal with the Blue Jays.
As a boy in Etobicoke, Ontario, Votto dreamed of wearing a Blue Jays uniform. But anyone who expected him to go along with that storybook ending without earning it — to effectively accept the charity — y — had zero understanding of one of the greatest hitters of his generation.
Votto demanded nothing but excellence from himself, and that was just as true now as it was when he was a 22-year-old kid, wearing a Canadian flag on the chest of his black jersey at that Futures Game. It was also true a decade later, during a slow start to his season. He was 32, with a National League Most Valuable Player Award, four top-10 MVP voting finishes, four All-Star appearances and the richest contract in Reds history.
He was hitting just .229 and insisted that he would rather retire than fail to play up to his standards.
“I’d rather quit and leave all the money on the table than play at a poor level,” Votto told me in the clubhouse before a Sunday game at PNC Park. “I’m here to play and be part of setting a standard. It’s something I’ve always taken pride in. I love to play at a really high level. So far this year, it’s not been that. I will not be a very satisfied, happy person if I don’t perform at the level that I expect.”
Votto added, “I refuse to accept my peak has passed, I refuse to accept that my best days are in the past.”
Votto was not wrong. He’d single and walk that day, slightly raising both his average and on-base percentage. Over the final 133 games of that season, Votto slashed .343/.453/.595 with 27 homers. The next season, he’d follow that with perhaps his greatest year in 2017, when he hit .320/.454/.578 with 36 home runs, just one shy of his career-best set in his MVP season of 2010. More importantly to Votto, he had not only played in 162 games that season, but he started 162 games, and finishing second in the MVP voting by just two votes to Miami’s Giancarlo Stanton and his 59 home runs.
Votto was constantly evolving. As a minor leaguer, he copied Albert Pujols’ batting stance and wore his No. 5 for the Chattanooga Lookouts, while lugging around his dog-eared copy of Ted Williams’ “The Science of Hitting.” He was still evolving from his MVP season in 2010, through his mid-30s renaissance, and even during his 36-homer season as a 37-year-old in 2021.
Votto was often a Rorschach test for baseball fans. Old schoolers and broadcasters would focus on what he didn’t do, bemoaning his lack of RBI and his willingness to take a walk over a productive out. The Sabermetrically inclined crowned him as a hero for his lack of RBI and willingness to take a walk over a productive out.
He proved to be a hitting savant, embodying the embrace of on-base percentage over batting average. While Votto never won a batting title or a Silver Slugger, he finished as the National League’s leader in on-base percentage seven of nine years from 2010 to 2018. He failed to take that crown only when a knee injury wrecked his 2014 season and in 2015 when MVP Bryce Harper finished with an on-base percentage of .460 to Votto’s .459.
Somewhere along the way, Votto turned his introspection outward, dressing up as a Mountie on the MLB Network, campaigning for teammate Zack Cozart to make the All-Star team by offering to gift Cozart a donkey if fans voted the Reds shortstop into the game in 2017.
Votto navigated his stature with aplomb. Even after teammate Brandon Phillips complained about Votto’s contract and called his own $72-million deal a “slap in the face,” Votto defended his teammate, citing it as a sign of Phillips’ competitiveness.
While there were times in Cincinnati that Votto’s skills were questioned, by the end of his tenure, he was seen as an elder statesman and an example for young players to follow.
After shoulder surgery ended his 2022 season and delayed his 2023 season, Vott began what would be his final year with the Reds at Triple A. There he took a young Matt McLain under his wing and championed the young shortstop even as all eyes were on Elly De La Cruz, the top prospect in baseball. In McLain, Votto saw a player much like himself, often overlooked by more hyped prospects.
Even when Votto went 3-for-3 and homered for his first hit in his first big-league start, most Reds fans were thirsting to see Jay Bruce, who just days later would be named by Baseball America the Minor League Player of the Year.
Even in that long-ago Futures Game at PNC Park, when Votto came up to the plate, the broadcasters mispronounced his name, using a long “o” for the first vowel of his surname. Votto — not Vohto — grinded out a seven-pitch at-bat, fouling off four two-strike pitches before serving a single to center. It was the type of at-bat that would help Votto make a name for himself.
“I was myself in this sport,” Votto wrote in his retirement post. “I was able to be my best self. I played this sport with every last ounce of my body, heart, and mind.”
While Votto could no longer play to his own expectations, those are the only ones he never exceeded.
(Photo of Joey Votto: Andy Lyons / Getty Images)
