Welcome to another edition of Five Things I Liked (Or Didn’t Like) This Week. I took a week off to indulge in a little French Open binge-watching, and after one of the greatest finals of my lifetime, I was ready to charge back into baseball. That feeling – charging ahead – has been something of a theme across baseball of late. You want speed? Chaos? Huge tools and do-or-die choices? This week’s list is for you. It starts, as usual, with a nod to Zach Lowe of The Ringer for originating this format. It also starts, as everything seems to these days, with a green-and-gold blur.
1. The Flash
If you turn on a random A’s game of late, you’re liable to see something like this:
And if you’re lucky, something like this afterward:
Denzel Clarke is on quite the heater right now. That spectacular play doesn’t even come close to his greatest major league feat, this absurd home run robbery:
I can’t top the great Sam Miller’s article about it, so I absolutely suggest reading that if you haven’t already, but Clarke’s defense is inarguably one of the things I liked most in baseball this week. His defense is one of the things I’ve liked most in baseball all year. Watching him bolt around the outfield with eyes on every baseball and no concept of failure is a blast. Game-breaking defense like this is so rare and so delightful that I make a point of turning on the A’s as often as possible right now.
The A’s needed a plus defensive center fielder badly. None of their corner guys are all that great in the field, and no other pitching staff allows more fly balls. They’d been running JJ Bleday out in center, and well, JJ Bleday isn’t a center fielder. Now Bleday is feeling the playing-time pinch – with plenty of mouths to feed in left and at DH, he’s gone from everyday starter to occasional fill-in.
It’s an unstable equilibrium, quite frankly. Clarke probably can’t keep playing defense like this, because no one plays defense like this. He’s top 10 in the majors in outs above average in a quarter of the innings that everyone else on that list has played. He’s both getting more opportunities than you’d expect and converting them at a ludicrous clip.
Clarke is a live wire in the outfield, instant electricity every time the ball is hit in the air. He’s blazing fast and willing to sacrifice his body for even a remote chance of getting an out — and those remote chances always turn into outs. According to Statcast, he ranks first in the majors with a 98% Actual Catch Percentage and a Catch Percentage Added of 10%. When I watch A’s games, I’m actively rooting for the other team to hit the ball toward Clarke so I can see something special. But he’s not this good — not eight outs above average in 135 innings good. Even if you think he’s the best defensive center fielder in baseball (and I might?), this pace won’t continue.
Which is why it matters, at least a little bit, that Clarke is striking out in half his plate appearances and batting .200/.228/.273. He hit plenty in the minor leagues, so there’s reason to expect him to get better here, but right now major league pitchers are just flooding the zone and daring him to do something about it. The status quo isn’t working; he has to get better offensively. Quite frankly, even with Clarke’s defense, this isn’t a good team; the A’s are 4-16 since he got called up. They need both more offense and better defense at other positions.
In other words, enjoy this sorcery while you can. No one plays defense at this level for long, and no one hits like this while remaining relevant in the big leagues either. Surely, we hope his bat improves at least enough to be slightly below average instead of downright awful, and his glove regresses only as much as will allow him to remain the top defender at his position, but that’s certainly not guaranteed. So my advice for you is this: Turn on an A’s game and watch Clarke roam center field as if you were out on the back porch taking in the final thunderstorm of the season.
2. The Chaotic Rays
Baseball can be monotonous at times. Strikeout, walk, grounder, line drive, rinse, repeat. A 2-1 score in the fourth, a 3-2 game in the sixth, a parade of relievers and pinch-hitters to follow. I like that loop – that’s why I write about this sport for a living and go to games in my time off – but the occasional breath of fresh air is always appreciated. And if you’re looking for a breath of fresh air in 2025, I have a suggestion for you: Watch a Rays game.
I’m not going to re-litigate the Great Head Tap Ejection that made Ben Lindbergh’s bold predictions look prescient. That was tremendous theater, and it’s not even one of the two most ridiculous Rays sequences of June. First place, in my eyes, is the walk-off groundout:
I can barely understand what happened here. Marcus Semien played this like a regular grounder. The rest of the Rangers decided first base was lava. Even worse, Josh Smith was so befuddled that he just kind of hung out listlessly in the middle of the play, like a video game character with the controller unplugged. Junior Caminero was watching the chaos as he went from second to third, and he took the opportunity to bolt for home. Semien couldn’t get around Smith and make a good throw in time:
I’ve never seen anything quite like that before. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this one either:
If you’re keeping score at home, good luck. The infield fly rule was in effect, as you can see from the home plate umpire’s gestures, which means even though that ball dropped, it was a fly out and the runners were free to advance as if they had tagged up. Trevor Story didn’t know that, though. All he had to do was stay where he was and tag out the runner, but he stepped on the base and then threw the ball away:
You have to tag him! You’ll never see a runner so dead to rights get a reprieve like that if you watch every game the rest of the season. Story just forgot the rules. Luckily, Kristian Campbell wasn’t quite sure what was going on, so he did both — he tagged Jonathan Aranda and stepped on the base — instead of picking just one:
The Rays won this game by scoring in the ninth, 10th, and 11th innings. Of course they did. Of course this game wasn’t normal the rest of the way. Right now, the Rays are the kings of weird baseball, and I love them for it.
3. The Cannon Arm of the Law
Getting very little Ronald Acuña Jr. in my life last year was a profound bummer. After his sensational 2023 MVP campaign, I was ready for an encore, but instead he struggled out of the gate, then tore his ACL and missed the majority of the season. He seems to have taken that injury to heart – he hasn’t so much as attempted to steal a base this season, unthinkable for a guy who swiped 73 two years ago. But don’t mistake that for a decline in Acuña’s tools. He’s still as much of a super athlete as ever, and he clearly still loves to show off his throwing arm:
That’s some kind of throw. Heliot Ramos had jammed on the brakes already, and it’s a good thing, because he would have been out by a mile. The Giants came out of the gates with a plan of never ever testing Acuña. Runners held up at bases when they’d normally advance. Home plate had a forcefield around it if the ball was hit to right field. But don’t tell Acuña that; he just carried on ripping gorgeous throws. I loved this one, from later in the inning. The Giants broadcast put Jung Hoo Lee in a picture-in-picture box like he was trying to tag up, but Lee wanted absolutely no part of Acuña’s smoke:
And did you see his outfield assist in his first game back? I could watch this all day:
Of the canonical five tools, arm is almost certainly the least important when it comes to actual on-field value. Most plays in baseball aren’t closely contested matches between a thrower and a runner, where a plus arm produces an out and an average arm leads to a base advancement. The margins of the game just aren’t that thin; it’s much more important to turn batted balls into outs than to pick off the occasional baserunner – and the tools involved in batting are more important still. But forget on-field value for a minute; when it comes to on-field entertainment, close plays on the basepaths are my absolute favorite, and defenders with loud tools make those close plays happen far more frequently.
Baseball is just better with Acuña, even when he’s not swiping bags. He’s demolishing the ball when he swings and spitting on tough pitches when he isn’t busy swatting homers. He looks as confident as ever, always a great part of the Acuña experience. And now he’s terrifying opposing baserunners again, showing off one of the best throwing arms on the planet. Yes, please. More.
4. Having Two Shortstops
The Reds are right in the mix of a surprisingly crowded playoff race. They’re one of seven NL teams who are .500 or above but not leading their division. And Cincinnati hasn’t quite hit its stride yet, either. Elly De La Cruz hasn’t continued his progression from last year, Matt McLain can’t get it going on offense, and Spencer Steer and Jeimer Candelario look cooked. But one thing you can hang your hat on: pretty plays on the infield.
De La Cruz has the loud tools that make him a natural fit at shortstop: incredible speed, quick-twitch reflexes, and an arm that rivals Acuña’s. He hasn’t consistently put it all together yet, but his highs are very high. McLain is a solid shortstop himself, but he switched to second base when De La Cruz debuted. He’s overqualified there, and man, it’s fun to watch him play defense. This play, from earlier in the season, made me laugh out loud:
My goodness, that’s hard. The sheer number of distractions on that play is remarkable. First, the ball went cleanly through Luis Mey’s legs:
And it kicked off the mound, to boot, meaning McLain was doubly screened from the ball, by the mound and the pitcher, almost the entire time he was playing it. It didn’t even hop cleanly for him. Then he had to make a precise throw around a ducking pitcher to hit Austin Wynns on the fly:
That’s freak-athlete stuff right there. And he showed his athletic bona fides again last week with this ridiculous leap:
Very few players are capable of that combination of range and coordination: a high-point snag with no margin for error whatsoever. The ball came off Christian Yelich’s bat at 105 mph, an absolute rocket headed for the right field power alley and a clear double. No time to think consciously – that was do or die. There’s no teaching that kind of play, you just either have “it” or don’t. In the field, at least, McLain has it.
If he keeps hitting like he has in 2025 – .184/.283/.309, 30% strikeout rate – the defense is nothing more than a silver lining on a very dark cloud. But McLain is still returning from major shoulder surgery, and it would hardly be shocking to learn his injury is still holding him back. If he can get back to his earlier offensive success, he might be one of the best two-way second basemen in baseball, because you just can’t fake defensive instincts this excellent.
5. Decisiveness
It’s no secret I’m a fan of bunts, late-game defensive strategy, and freelancing defenders. But even I was taken aback by this play, and I had to write about it as a result. With the Giants down by a run in the bottom of the 10th, utility infielder Christian Koss decided to give himself up. His sacrifice attempt was good enough to advance the runner, but it was headed sharply foul. That is, until Jose Iglesias entered the picture:
Wait, what? That’s not one you see very often. That ball was about to roll foul, and defenses generally like letting sacrifice bunts roll foul. After all, the offense is trying to keep it fair. Why let them get what they want? But watch Iglesias again. He hustled hard to get to that ball and keep it in play:
Everyone knew this was the deal. Koss was bunting on the first pitch of the plate appearance, the Padres played it like a bunt the whole way, and Koss squared around before the pitch — both teams agreed this was a bunting situation. Why, then, did Iglesias help the Giants out?
I puzzled about this one for a little bit, but honestly, I think I might be in Iglesias’ camp here? Bunting wasn’t an amazing choice for the Giants. Bat-missing righty on the mound, two strikeout-prone righties due up next (one of them a very good hitter, to be fair), no pinch-hitters available to switch the matchup, so getting the first out was very important. And it wasn’t even like the Padres would lose if the runner scored – with a one-run cushion, the second run was just as important to defend as the first. So long as Koss didn’t reach base, the Padres were still in a good position.
I don’t think I’d have the wherewithal to make that decision at game speed. Years and years of instincts were telling Iglesias to let the ball roll foul. That’s just what you do when the other team is trying to bunt. But really, why? They’re trying to give you an out. Take it! Iglesias was laser-focused on getting outs, limiting baserunners, and moving the game toward its conclusion.
The mathematical reality of the situation is unclear to me. Bunting is a bad move for the offense assuming league-average hitters, but Koss is a Quad-A guy who strikes out a lot. On the other hand, it was only the first pitch of the at-bat, and he’d probably manage to get a bunt down anyway even if Iglesias let it roll foul, or even worse, swing away and connect. If Koss has, say, a .250 OBP after falling behind, it’s probably a close decision. If you think it’s worse than that, I’d probably let it roll foul.
Iglesias was sure, though. And he backed up his own decision almost immediately, with a reflexive snag that preserved the lead:
I’m not sure what calculus went through Iglesias’ mind while fielding that bunt. I’m pretty sure nothing went through his mind when he snared that rocketed grounder – there wasn’t time to think. But however you look at it, Iglesias is playing some self-assured defense right now. He’s not hitting this season – his 2024 run with the Mets looks very far away now – but that doesn’t change how fun it is to watch him with a glove on.
Content Source: blogs.fangraphs.com