SEATTLE — In light of the horrific Edwin Diaz injury, you can be sure that the Mariners won't breathe easy until all of their players in the World Baseball Classic are returned safely with their health intact.
And maybe not even then. I well remember the hero's welcome Drew Smyly received in 2017 when he came back to Peoria, Ariz., from San Diego, where he absolutely dominated a loaded Venezuela lineup in a key start for Team USA in that year's WBC.
Smyly's mound opponent was his ostensible Mariners rotation mate, Felix Hernandez — whom he outpitched in a 4 2/3-inning stint in which Smyly allowed one unearned run on three hits with no walks and eight strikeouts. He fanned the last six batters, including stalwarts Miguel Cabrera, Victor Martinez, Rougned Odor and Carlos Gonzalez.
"It was awesome," Smyly told reporters when he got back to the Mariners complex. "It was a sweet experience. I just soaked up every moment of it. I'm glad I got to be a part of it."
It turned out to be not so sweet. The Mariners had been thrilled by what Smyly's dazzling outing portended for their season. But Smyly was soon shut down because of what manager Scott Servais called "a soggy arm" (the same term he used this week to describe J.P. Crawford's condition).
Smyly was diagnosed more definitively as having a flexor-tendon strain, which led to Tommy John surgery in July. Smyly, in fact, never pitched for the Mariners, missing two full major league seasons and severely damaging their 2017 campaign before it had even begun.
That helps explain why the Mariners, like every MLB team, view the WBC with some level of trepidation. When you send off players as important to your current success as Julio Rodriguez, Teoscar Hernandez, Eugenio Suarez, Matt Brash and Diego Castillo, and to your future as Harry Ford, you're going to be constantly nervous, if not downright petrified, about something happening to them.
Diaz's injury is a worst-case scenario — he is going to miss the season because of a knee injury that was suffered, amazingly, during the celebration by Puerto Rico after Diaz's dominant closing performance against the Dominican Republic. I don't think I've ever seen such an instant transition from jubilation to utter despair.
It was a freak injury that could have happened in any game — just ask Kendrys Morales about the unlikely dangers of celebration; he broke his ankle stomping on home plate after a walkoff grand slam against the Mariners in a ho-hum May game in 2010. But it has renewed a debate about whether the WBC is worth the risk. Diaz was just signed to the largest contract ever given a closer (five years, $102 million); his loss is a major blow to the Mets, who are spending more money than any team in history in 2023. And the Dodgers are sweating out a hamstring injury to Freddie Freeman — whom they signed to a $162 million contract in 2022 — that knocked him out of Team Canada's final game.
Teams such as the Mariners are fully supportive of the WBC in the abstract. It's a prime vehicle for growing the sport internationally. Though interest in the U.S. has always been rather lackluster, the passion shown during each WBC iteration by players — and fans — from Japan, Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Korea and beyond has been staggering. And it has been heartwarming to see the burgeoning growth of baseball programs in Czech Republic, Italy, Great Britain and Israel.
Mariners manager Scott Servais talked Thursday about what a great learning experience playing for Great Britain has been for Ford. Rodriguez, coming off his first playoff with the Mariners, should be better for having gone through another series of games under intense pressure. But I'll bet Servais is counting down the days until he gets his full complement of players back, healthy.
The fundamental problem with the WBC is that there's no good time to hold it. MLB isn't willing to shut down the season in the middle, when players are in optimal shape. It doesn't make sense to do it at the end of the year when weary players have already put in six months or more.
So by process of elimination, it's held in March, when players typically are in a slow build to the season. Instead, they're asked to play in games that are hugely meaningful to their country, with the risk of adrenaline rushes that cause them to gear up to an extent they're not yet prepared for. If that sounds too abstract, listen to these quotes from Smyly after his triumphant WBC outing in 2017:
— "... I was jacked up and probably throwing a little harder than I usually do."
— "I had a lot of adrenaline going. It felt like a playoff game. It felt like we had to win and you had to give your best performance. ... I had a lot of juices flowing."
— "It was different. The intensity level was really high. I kind of knew going in that it would be, but once I got out on the mound, it was a whole other level."
The Smyly experience will always haunt the Mariners, to an extent. It helps explain why they were keenly concerned about the possibility of Luis Castillo — freshly signed to a five-year, $108 million contract extension last September and the presumptive ace of their staff — pitching in that highly charged environment for the Dominican Republic. Let's just say they were not heartbroken when Castillo decided to forgo the experience.
This issue dates to the first WBC in 2006, when 19-year-old Felix Hernandez very much wanted to pitch for Venezuela — and the Mariners very much didn't want him to. Here's what then-GM Bill Bavasi told me about the WBC in December 2005:
"We have two issues with it. One, it's going to be a great thing, but two, we don't want Felix in it. That has to do with a young kid's arm, a kid that's going to pitch at 19 in the big leagues. That's the biggest issue."
The standoff got somewhat contentious, in fact. When the Mariners withheld permission for Hernandez to participate, he filed an appeal with a technical committee comprised of MLB and union officials. They sided with the Mariners, and Hernandez had to wait until the next WBC three years later to get his shot. It didn't sit well.
Various studies over the years have shown that WBC participation doesn't lead to an appreciable increase in injuries. And the fact is the Diaz injury didn't occur on the playing field. That doesn't do much to soothe the Mets, however.
I've thoroughly enjoyed the WBC this year — especially the intensity of games. I think it's a worthy addition to the baseball calendar every few years, even though I expect the Diaz injury will cast a pall over the upcoming knockout rounds.
One fluke injury, devastating as it was, shouldn't be enough to send the event to the sideline. But each rendition will be accompanied by an atmosphere of apprehension that simply is unavoidable.
