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Biggp07 · 11-10-2025, 07:09 PM

⚾ Episode 5: Shifts Beneath the Surface

Late-Season Lessons, Quiet Progress

(An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough – August 2024)
________________________________________

Opening Note

Kansas City heat in August has a certain weight to it — the air, the mood, the baseball itself. By August, you stop pretending this is still about the standings. After the trade deadline’s quiet finish, we got back to playing baseball. I told myself:

Forget the record. Just get better.

That became our mantra.

The long season strips away pretense and pride until all that’s left is work — unglamorous, unseen, unending work. Every bullpen session, every at-bat, every defensive rep mattered again — not for this year’s standings, but for the next year’s standard.

This was the stretch where the experiment — one man running both the clubhouse and the front office — truly revealed its cost. The fatigue was real. The dual voice in my head, the nightly whiplash between lineup cards and long-term budgets, between managing personalities and managing payroll… it was heavier now.

But there was also something else.

Clarity.

We weren’t going to win 80 games. We weren’t going to shock the league. Yet for the first time since March, I could finally see the shape of a future worth building.
________________________________________

August 1 – Back to the Grind

The morning after the trade deadline always feels hollow. The phones stop buzzing, the scouts head back out on the road, and the adrenaline that carried you through July just…drops.
I sat in my office at Kauffman watching the grounds crew drag the infield, thinking about how calm the stadium looked when it wasn’t hiding the turmoil under our record.

Bobby Witt Jr. returned from the IL that day, sliding into the lineup as if he’d never left. We optioned García back to Omaha, though he’d earned nothing but praise filling in for Bobby. His progress in July—especially his gap and contact ratings—was one of the few genuine bright spots.

Our Double-A and High-A teams were glowing in McLeod’s development report. Rookie-ball felt alive again. That’s what a draft infusion does—it reminds everyone that the system still breathes.

The first game of the month, though, was a reminder of where we still stood: shut out 5-0 by Detroit. Sometimes baseball likes to punctuate your optimism.

I’d end the night flipping through the stat lines, not searching for wins, but signs — signs of growth, signs of stability, signs of belief.
________________________________________

August 3–7 – Signs of Life

Two days later, the first of our draft signees reported to Arizona. Cam Caminiti signed his bonus, all smiles and swagger, a left-handed blur of potential. He’ll start in the ACL, under light innings limits, but seeing him in Royals blue—if only the rookie shade—made the risk feel worth it. By week’s end, the last holdout, RHP Jackson Barberi, put pen to paper. All 21 of our draftees officially in the system.

Ragans was rehabbing, Singer was working through shoulder stiffness, and the young arms — Veneziano, Marsh, and Zerpa — started taking turns in real roles. Some nights, they looked green and rattled; others, flashes of something real.

The big club rewarded the front office with a bit of theater: a 7-5 win at Detroit the same day Barberi signed. Eflin finally looked like a stabilizer, and Salvy’s eighth-inning home run felt like a thunderclap through a wet tarp. We were becoming competitive in the small moments. That’s how rebuilds start: quietly, one inning at a time.

I filed the waiver claim on RP Caleb Ferguson that night—one of those quiet GM moves that rarely makes a headline but can ripple later. Younger, controllable, affordable. Three adjectives that have become my north stars.

By the time we returned home for the Boston series, the clubhouse energy had shifted. Guys were talking about who we’d drafted, asking if they’d ever see them in the bigs. The kind of chatter you only hear when players sense the future actually has faces now.
________________________________________

August 8–10 – The Reality Check - Managing in the Middle of Nowhere

We took two from Boston, then stumbled through a flat weekend against St. Louis. Lynch IV strained his calf, and we had to patch another hole with the bullpen. Ferguson debuted and threw three perfect innings, striking out five; that alone justified the claim.

Still, losses sting more when they feel preventable. I had to DFA Stratton after he refused a demotion. The money we’ll eat on his option isn’t ideal, but trimming those aging edges is part of the rebuild’s slow bleed.

It’s strange how quickly “next year” becomes a mantra.

The dog days mess with your head. You’re too far from the beginning to stay optimistic and too far from the end to see light. We split a series in Detroit, then dropped two in Cleveland. Not blowouts — just dull, forgettable losses that come from fatigue.

After the last one, I didn’t yell. I didn’t lecture.

I just sat at my desk, wrote in my journal, and asked the same question I’ve written a dozen times this summer:

Am I managing a team or a transition?
Both, I think.
________________________________________

August 11–18 – Development Ripples

Jason McLeod sent me his late-summer development notes that evening — our Rookie and Low-A clubs were thriving. Danny Wilkinson’s control jumped a full tier, and even journeymen like Walter Pennington were trending upward. Prospects like Blake Mitchell and Jhoneiker Betancourt were starting to pop off the page. It didn’t fix the big-league struggles, but it reminded me that what we were building was real, even if invisible from the box score.

Behind the scenes, we cleaned up the international scouting books. McLeod found a 16-year-old in Venezuela—Danny Hernandez—a name that might never reach a scoreboard, but in our organization, every name is a seed.

Meanwhile, the majors felt steadier. Bobby was back to cutting balls through gaps, and Eflin suddenly remembered he’s an innings-eater. We even flirted with the idea of a wild-card push, however faint. I told the staff, “This is the quiet part of the rebuild, where progress hides in box scores no one reads.”

During a night flight from Seattle, I caught myself replaying conversations I’d had with players earlier in the day. Loftin asked about his future. Vaz wanted clarity on when he’d be back in left. A young reliever wanted to know if the team even had a long-term plan.

I answered as honestly as I could — “We do. It just takes time.”

But after everyone fell asleep on the plane, I realized I’d been talking to myself.

The GM in me plans five years ahead. The Manager in me wants one good inning right now. Those two voices never stop negotiating.

That’s what leadership is at its core: learning to argue with yourself and still move forward.
________________________________________

August 23 – The Turning Point

We faced Houston at home — the kind of measuring-stick series that reminds you where you stand. They beat us twice before we stole the finale, 5–2, behind a gritty start from Veneziano. That win meant nothing in the standings. But it meant everything to him — and to me. Watching a young lefty battle through traffic, adjust mid-game, and finish strong reminded me why I love this part of the job.

After the game, I walked through the quiet clubhouse. Witt Jr. had gone deep early, his 20th homer of the year. Garcia was icing his legs, laughing softly with Haggerty. For a losing team, there was no bitterness—just resilience. That’s what you build on.
________________________________________

August 24–31 – Turning the Page

As August wound down, our record still sat well below .500, but the tenor had changed. Ferguson was settling into his setup role. Garcia’s demotion looked temporary—he was mashing in Omaha and ready for the September call-up.

The draft class officially entered the system ledger on the 31st — contracts finalized, bonuses dispersed, files synced to our development database. From here, it’s patience and prayer.

The month ended with a win that felt poetic: 8-2 over Cleveland, Bobby Witt Jr. hitting two homers, both no-doubters. The crowd rose for him, but the cheer was larger than one player—it was a release, a sense that maybe we’d finally turned toward something sustainable.
________________________________________

Reflections – August’s Lesson

Front offices don’t get trophies for August, but they can lose their futures in it. We didn’t.

The seeds from July are now under the surface—21 new players, a farm system stirring, a few veterans quietly making way. The record doesn’t show it yet, but the organization feels different. Rebuilds aren’t built on hope. They’re built on habits—draft boards, rehab reports, and the faith that quiet progress counts for something when nobody’s watching.

As we head into September and roster expansion, I can finally say this season has shape—maybe not success, but direction.

“When the headlines fade, the real work begins.”
________________________________________
⚾ — Todd “BigP” Pollard
General Manager & Manager, Kansas City Royals
“Every rebuild starts in silence before it begins to make noise.”
________________________________________

11-10-2025, 07:09 PM	#177
Biggp07 Minors (Double A) Join Date: Sep 2024 Posts: 195	⚾ Episode 5: Shifts Beneath the Surface Late-Season Lessons, Quiet Progress (An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough – August 2024) ________________________________________ Opening Note Kansas City heat in August has a certain weight to it — the air, the mood, the baseball itself. By August, you stop pretending this is still about the standings. After the trade deadline’s quiet finish, we got back to playing baseball. I told myself: Forget the record. Just get better. That became our mantra. The long season strips away pretense and pride until all that’s left is work — unglamorous, unseen, unending work. Every bullpen session, every at-bat, every defensive rep mattered again — not for this year’s standings, but for the next year’s standard. This was the stretch where the experiment — one man running both the clubhouse and the front office — truly revealed its cost. The fatigue was real. The dual voice in my head, the nightly whiplash between lineup cards and long-term budgets, between managing personalities and managing payroll… it was heavier now. But there was also something else. Clarity. We weren’t going to win 80 games. We weren’t going to shock the league. Yet for the first time since March, I could finally see the shape of a future worth building. ________________________________________ August 1 – Back to the Grind The morning after the trade deadline always feels hollow. The phones stop buzzing, the scouts head back out on the road, and the adrenaline that carried you through July just…drops. I sat in my office at Kauffman watching the grounds crew drag the infield, thinking about how calm the stadium looked when it wasn’t hiding the turmoil under our record. Bobby Witt Jr. returned from the IL that day, sliding into the lineup as if he’d never left. We optioned García back to Omaha, though he’d earned nothing but praise filling in for Bobby. His progress in July—especially his gap and contact ratings—was one of the few genuine bright spots. Our Double-A and High-A teams were glowing in McLeod’s development report. Rookie-ball felt alive again. That’s what a draft infusion does—it reminds everyone that the system still breathes. The first game of the month, though, was a reminder of where we still stood: shut out 5-0 by Detroit. Sometimes baseball likes to punctuate your optimism. I’d end the night flipping through the stat lines, not searching for wins, but signs — signs of growth, signs of stability, signs of belief. ________________________________________ August 3–7 – Signs of Life Two days later, the first of our draft signees reported to Arizona. Cam Caminiti signed his bonus, all smiles and swagger, a left-handed blur of potential. He’ll start in the ACL, under light innings limits, but seeing him in Royals blue—if only the rookie shade—made the risk feel worth it. By week’s end, the last holdout, RHP Jackson Barberi, put pen to paper. All 21 of our draftees officially in the system. Ragans was rehabbing, Singer was working through shoulder stiffness, and the young arms — Veneziano, Marsh, and Zerpa — started taking turns in real roles. Some nights, they looked green and rattled; others, flashes of something real. The big club rewarded the front office with a bit of theater: a 7-5 win at Detroit the same day Barberi signed. Eflin finally looked like a stabilizer, and Salvy’s eighth-inning home run felt like a thunderclap through a wet tarp. We were becoming competitive in the small moments. That’s how rebuilds start: quietly, one inning at a time. I filed the waiver claim on RP Caleb Ferguson that night—one of those quiet GM moves that rarely makes a headline but can ripple later. Younger, controllable, affordable. Three adjectives that have become my north stars. By the time we returned home for the Boston series, the clubhouse energy had shifted. Guys were talking about who we’d drafted, asking if they’d ever see them in the bigs. The kind of chatter you only hear when players sense the future actually has faces now. ________________________________________ August 8–10 – The Reality Check - Managing in the Middle of Nowhere We took two from Boston, then stumbled through a flat weekend against St. Louis. Lynch IV strained his calf, and we had to patch another hole with the bullpen. Ferguson debuted and threw three perfect innings, striking out five; that alone justified the claim. Still, losses sting more when they feel preventable. I had to DFA Stratton after he refused a demotion. The money we’ll eat on his option isn’t ideal, but trimming those aging edges is part of the rebuild’s slow bleed. It’s strange how quickly “next year” becomes a mantra. The dog days mess with your head. You’re too far from the beginning to stay optimistic and too far from the end to see light. We split a series in Detroit, then dropped two in Cleveland. Not blowouts — just dull, forgettable losses that come from fatigue. After the last one, I didn’t yell. I didn’t lecture. I just sat at my desk, wrote in my journal, and asked the same question I’ve written a dozen times this summer: Am I managing a team or a transition? Both, I think. ________________________________________ August 11–18 – Development Ripples Jason McLeod sent me his late-summer development notes that evening — our Rookie and Low-A clubs were thriving. Danny Wilkinson’s control jumped a full tier, and even journeymen like Walter Pennington were trending upward. Prospects like Blake Mitchell and Jhoneiker Betancourt were starting to pop off the page. It didn’t fix the big-league struggles, but it reminded me that what we were building was real, even if invisible from the box score. Behind the scenes, we cleaned up the international scouting books. McLeod found a 16-year-old in Venezuela—Danny Hernandez—a name that might never reach a scoreboard, but in our organization, every name is a seed. Meanwhile, the majors felt steadier. Bobby was back to cutting balls through gaps, and Eflin suddenly remembered he’s an innings-eater. We even flirted with the idea of a wild-card push, however faint. I told the staff, “This is the quiet part of the rebuild, where progress hides in box scores no one reads.” During a night flight from Seattle, I caught myself replaying conversations I’d had with players earlier in the day. Loftin asked about his future. Vaz wanted clarity on when he’d be back in left. A young reliever wanted to know if the team even had a long-term plan. I answered as honestly as I could — “We do. It just takes time.” But after everyone fell asleep on the plane, I realized I’d been talking to myself. The GM in me plans five years ahead. The Manager in me wants one good inning right now. Those two voices never stop negotiating. That’s what leadership is at its core: learning to argue with yourself and still move forward. ________________________________________ August 23 – The Turning Point We faced Houston at home — the kind of measuring-stick series that reminds you where you stand. They beat us twice before we stole the finale, 5–2, behind a gritty start from Veneziano. That win meant nothing in the standings. But it meant everything to him — and to me. Watching a young lefty battle through traffic, adjust mid-game, and finish strong reminded me why I love this part of the job. After the game, I walked through the quiet clubhouse. Witt Jr. had gone deep early, his 20th homer of the year. Garcia was icing his legs, laughing softly with Haggerty. For a losing team, there was no bitterness—just resilience. That’s what you build on. ________________________________________ August 24–31 – Turning the Page As August wound down, our record still sat well below .500, but the tenor had changed. Ferguson was settling into his setup role. Garcia’s demotion looked temporary—he was mashing in Omaha and ready for the September call-up. The draft class officially entered the system ledger on the 31st — contracts finalized, bonuses dispersed, files synced to our development database. From here, it’s patience and prayer. The month ended with a win that felt poetic: 8-2 over Cleveland, Bobby Witt Jr. hitting two homers, both no-doubters. The crowd rose for him, but the cheer was larger than one player—it was a release, a sense that maybe we’d finally turned toward something sustainable. ________________________________________ Reflections – August’s Lesson Front offices don’t get trophies for August, but they can lose their futures in it. We didn’t. The seeds from July are now under the surface—21 new players, a farm system stirring, a few veterans quietly making way. The record doesn’t show it yet, but the organization feels different. Rebuilds aren’t built on hope. They’re built on habits—draft boards, rehab reports, and the faith that quiet progress counts for something when nobody’s watching. As we head into September and roster expansion, I can finally say this season has shape—maybe not success, but direction. “When the headlines fade, the real work begins.” ________________________________________ ⚾ — Todd “BigP” Pollard General Manager & Manager, Kansas City Royals “Every rebuild starts in silence before it begins to make noise.” ________________________________________ Last edited by Biggp07; 11-10-2025 at 09:25 PM.