How Old Is Gleyber Torres?

In case you missed it last night, Gleyber Torres is just 22 years old.

You’d think you’d hear Joe Buck, John Smoltz, or Alex Rodriguez mention it at least once.

The answers to some of life’s other unanswered questions:

Finally, in the year Brodie Van Wagenen declared “Come get us!” the Nationals lead the NLCS (2-0), and the Yankees lead the ALCS (1-0).

Of course, the Yankees won the ALCS opened because Torres, who is apparently 22 years old, had a great game.

0 thoughts on “How Old Is Gleyber Torres?”

  1. David Klein says:

    And Mickey Callaway uses stats 15% of the time

    1. Blair M. Schirmer says:

      @David Klein – it was one of the–no, it was *the*–most stupefyingly hilarious statement a manager has ever made. It towers over Wally Backman’s claim 30 years after the first Bill James Abstract and 60 years after the great Branch Rickey figured out OBP was far more important than BA, that keeping track of batting average by handedness in order to decide platoon matchups made him, Backman, a “stat rat.”

      Following Callaway’s claim the entirety of the educated baseball world should have screeched to a halt in a paroxysm of mass hilarity, back-thumping, and the sort of laughter that leaves grown men in tears. It wasn’t just the statement, but the circumstances surrounding it: the sincerity with which Callaway asserted it, the faux-accuracy of the figure “85% of the time we don’t follow the analytics,” how it revealed the acumen of the ownership group sponsoring the assertion, and that his GM appeared unruffled by the astonishing remark, to the point of not even thinking to contradict his manager.

      Thanks for bringing that up, DK. It never gets old.

      1. metsdaddy says:

        He didn’t contradict Mickey because he knows Mickey speaks the truth about what he told Mickey to do

  2. Blair M. Schirmer says:

    “In case you missed it last night, Gleyber Torres is just 22 years old.”

    —And a sad reminder of what the Mets have been so rarely able to do with players in their late teens and early 20s.

    Alonso succeeded, at the age of 24, because he left himself fundamentally immune to the Mets minor league coaching praxis, whatever that might be. Alonso has had his own hitting coach since the age of 8. That coach kept him on track, for example, when he appeared to slump in July 2018 after he reached AAA and had the misfortune to go through a month where he hit the ball directly at fielders. That’s all it was, bad luck, and thanks to being able to go outside the Mets system Alonso didn’t panic or change his approach. He just kept following his own coach’s advice and kept doing what had turned him into one of the best and most consistent hitters in the minors in years.

    As for Jeff McNeil, he had the good fortune to be old enough to work a lot of it out for himself. It’s no coincidence that despite being obviously talented his hitting didn’t take off until he was ***26*** years old, an age when nearly every player who becomes a star has already been in the majors for years. The Mets did their damnedest to waste McNeil’s extraordinary talent, but he was too good to not eventually work it out on his own. The Mets also got lucky on three additional counts. 1) McNeil’s injuries at the point the team was about to give up on him and deal him away for nothing meant they couldn’t get anything for him, 2) the Mets farm system was so bereft of talent at the upper levels that there was no one challenging for his position therefore there was no reason not to keep him around, and 3) that McNeil is so good an athlete that he was able to survive being thrown into the breach of the position of superutilityman (thanks to Wags’ inability to construct a roster and his lack of faith in his own judgment) despite the Mets doing nothing to prepare McNeil–to the point of setting him up to fail by an almost complete absence of practice, preparation, or coaching in the role.

    McNeil’s case is another indictment of Callaway, btw. Callaway originally referred to McNeil in the minors as exclusively a 2Bman, then promptly gave him games in 3B and the OF. Then, after referring to McNeil’s future as the Mets superutility guy, despite having no more than 2 games in 5 years beyond 2B and 3B, promptly played him only at 2B. Then, in the lost season that 2018 clearly was by July for the MLB squad, and after insisting McNeil would be used in a superutility role in future seasons, Callaway played McNeil **only** at 2B. It was an astonishing managerial performance.

    Hopelessly inept, or hopelessly ineffectual? Either way, Callaway deserved to be canned…

    And now we’re hearing Beltran is under serious consideration for the Mets managerial vacancy. I believe it. It’ll be Beltran, Luis Rojas, or someone else who won’t challenge the Wilpons or the GM. That’ll be his primary characteristic–whoever ownership the most appealing combination of pliancy and minimal salary.

    1. metsdaddy says:

      All of these Callaway indictments are things which emanate from the front office.

      1. Blair M. Schirmer says:

        Are you claiming to know that the entirety of the issue of McNeil’s playing time, the day to day disposition of where he played in the majors even in a lost season, what position he played on any given day even in the minors, the contradictory statements, and even the outright gibberish… that these were all dictated by the front office? It’s an immodest thesis, finally. To be as certain of this as you sound you’d have to be inside the FO itself. I think it’s fair to say the breadth of your claim in this regard is on the extravagant side.

        1. metsdaddy says:

          Yes, the comments were dictated by the front office just like the comments McNeil was just a second baseman.

          For the Mets, the manager’s job is to be the spokesperson for the front office and to execute their directives. It is not to be a Davey Johnson or Bobby Valentine type.

          They don’t want that.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *