On Monday night, Yahoo Sports sent me a push notification (I know, I should turn them off, I’m a glutton for clumsy reporting) saying Carlos Correa was not going to re-negotiate his contract with the Mets. After a few clicks, it became clear that wasn’t what was meant—the only report saying something close to that was that Correa wasn’t interested in changing the size or length of the deal, leaving plenty of room open for negotiations on specific injury insurances for the Mets—but the framing made me laugh. Imagine the Mets coming to Carlos Correa and saying, “Hey, you know that contract we haven’t signed yet? We aren’t going to sign it unless we make a few changes. You know, the leg stuff,” and Carlos Correa saying, “Nope, not negotiating,” and the Mets saying, “Well, I guess that’s that,” and signing the contract as is. This is not how it would work. If Carlos Correa (and Scott Boras and others) said no, the Mets would say no themselves. They’re aggressive, but they probably aren’t stupid.
The leg is messed up. We all know that now. Correa himself acknowledged back in September that there’s a plate in there and that the leg is enormously sensitive. You don’t sign a twelve-year contract with a guy with a peg leg (unless you’re the Pirates, I suppose, in an alternate and much more literal universe). The Mets aren’t going to sign the twelve-year contract with Correa unless there are some safety clauses in there on the Mets’ behalf.
What does this mean? Well, if the agent in question here was someone who acted with the best interests of his clients in mind, the answer would be that the Mets and Correa would get those insurance policies in there, or insert some club options, or reduce the value enough to make the gamble worth the gamble. This, of course, isn’t the case. If this was the case, there would have been renegotiations with the Giants. If this was the case, Scott Boras probably wouldn’t have the name for himself that he has.
I’m admittedly coming from a specific perspective on Boras, one where I’m of the opinion that Boras royally screwed over Kris Bryant by refusing to engage on serious extension talks around 2017, and that his approach to those non-negotiations is an effective summation of who he is. It’s not exactly bitterness—had the Cubs signed that extension, they’d be in worse shape now than they already are—but there’s something wrong when an agent’s only motivation appears to be “winning” every offseason at the top line by signing a small selection of his players to the biggest deals on the board. It’s not evident that Scott Boras cares about getting his clients into situations where they’re happy. Instead, conversations around Scott Boras always revolve around him obtaining the biggest contract possible—of all-time, of an offseason, of an offseason at a specific position. There is no compromise.
If everything goes well for a player, this no-compromise position is fine and good. Absent red flags, the best player gets the best deal. But when a Boras client like Bryant sees his health and performance deteriorate, the money vanishes, and when a Boras client like Correa has to take a physical with consequences, the consequences materialize. Look at the Michael Conforto situation: Is Conforto unsigned for fourteen months now because of Conforto, or is that because of Boras? The possibility is real and loud that Carlos Correa, in a Confortian echo, will not sign before Opening Day. Not because Correa isn’t immensely valuable, or even presently unhealthy, but because Boras wants to save face, and Boras is willing to “win” games of chicken, his clients be damned.
To be clear: Players have the choice to employ Scott Boras. Many don’t. Those who don’t—let’s use Trea Turner as an example—mostly do just fine for themselves, and so, mostly, do those who do—let’s use Xander Bogaerts as the example for that. To also be clear: I don’t know Scott Boras. I don’t have insider information on any of this. But I don’t think Scott Boras got where he is by working to find every client the best situation possible. I think Scott Boras got to the top by making splashes. When the splash isn’t there, the guy doesn’t like to retreat. Carlos Correa needs Scott Boras to retreat right now.
The Cubs Rotation Will Be This Bad
The Cubs rotation, at a glance, is acceptable. Jameson Taillon and Marcus Stroman are respectable starting pitchers, Kyle Hendricks was respectable a short enough time ago that he could bounce back, Justin Steele just had a breakout year, Drew Smyly had a great season relative to expectations, and there’s upside from Hayden Wesneski to Keegan Thompson to Adrian Sampson down through Caleb Kilian.
Corey Kluber, likewise, would not have much changed the shape of the Cubs rotation. It would have looked much like it does, just with Kluber in there alongside Taillon and Stroman at the top. Corey Kluber signing with the Red Sox doesn’t much change the Cubs rotation.
Still, Kluber signing with the Red Sox has an air of a death blow to the 2023 Cubs. A team without a top-two starting pitcher couldn’t at least get a third third-guy. You’ve got a third guy as your one, a third guy as your two, and a bunch of fifth guys—upside young pitchers or low-ceiling older pitchers—filling the rest of the staff. It’s a rotation built to be individually adequate, filled with guys who don’t eat innings and don’t strike batters out and don’t throw shutouts but do pick up a lot of quality starts and near misses. It’s a rotation that puts tons of pressure on its bullpen and leaves the Cubs a giant underdog against any semblance of an ace. It’s a bad rotation not on its back end, but on its front end. It’s the biggest reason the Cubs roster, on paper right now, projects on FanGraphs to be slightly worse than that of Pittsburgh.
I’m not sure the Cubs should have signed Corey Kluber. He would have helped, but once you get to the Kluber tier of free agent pitchers this year, you aren’t making any season-changing moves. You’re just signing another Jameson Taillon, and to our point: the Cubs have plenty of those. Really, the question comes down to how much support Jed Hoyer has from ownership. Hoyer clearly has a vision of contending in 2025 or 2026, and contending for a few years after that. Hoyer clearly doesn’t want to mess with that vision, and looking at the bones of it—the stacked farm system, the continually improving farm system, the developmental structure built to mimic that of the Guardians—it’s good not to mess with it. But if Hoyer gets fired, that vision doesn’t matter. Kluber wouldn’t make 2025 come any sooner. But he’d make the 2023 team that much better. He’d make the 2023 team that much likelier to reach .500. He’d make the 2023 team that much more evidently a team making progress. Hopefully, that isn’t something that matters in keeping Jed Hoyer his job. But if the Ricketts family wants to see measurable progress, it’s not currently likely this year’s Cubs will show it in the lens of wins and losses. This is still a 75-win team, if that. It has loads of upside. That, we can concede. Maybe Justin Steele contends for the Cy Young. Maybe Hayden Wesneski or Caleb Kilian’s the NL Rookie of the Year. And maybe it’s necessary, for the 2025-26 vision, to leave the space for those opportunities. But it’s easy to see this season going the opposite direction, and the results not being immediate enough, and a 65-win Cubs team cleaning house.
Is there another Kluber out there? Yes and no. Johnny Cueto’s on the market, but if you Google “Johnny Cueto Cubs” it suggests “Johnny Cueto Cuba,” and Michael Wacha’s on the market, but there isn’t buzz there either, or on any of the other dozen or so pitchers near their tier. Maybe the Cubs run it back with Wade Miley, that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world (and they do love their “clubhouse guys” these days), and maybe that’s accompanied with a lot of bullpen pickups again (Andrew Chafin’s on the market), but we’re on the track towards needing some really great breakouts from the young guys. If there aren’t enough of those, the team’s going to be bad. If there aren’t any of those, Jed Hoyer could conceivably be gone. Kluber doesn’t affect 2025. But he might have made 2023 more bearable, and thereby kept Hoyer around long enough for this good but long plan to work out.
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Viewing schedule for the day, second screen rotation in italics:
Bowl Games
- 2:00 PM EST: Military Bowl – UCF vs. Duke (ESPN)
- 5:30 PM EST: Liberty Bowl – Kansas vs. Arkansas (ESPN)
- 8:00 PM EST: Holiday Bowl – Oregon vs. North Carolina (FOX)
- 9:00 PM EST: Texas Bowl – Texas Tech vs. Mississippi (ESPN)
College Basketball (sampler platter)
- 5:00 PM EST: Tennessee @ Mississippi (SECN)
- 7:00 PM EST: Kentucky @ Missouri (SECN)
- 9:00 PM EST: Alabama @ Mississippi State (SECN)
- 11:00 PM EST: Wyoming @ Fresno State (CBSSN)
NBA (best game, plus the Bulls)
- 7:30 PM EST: Brooklyn @ Atlanta (League Pass)
- 8:00 PM EST: Milwaukee @ Bulls (League Pass)
NHL (best game)
- 7:30 PM EST: Boston @ New Jersey (TNT)
Premier League
- 3:00 PM EST: Manchester City @ Leeds (USA)