This isn’t how it’s supposed to end for franchise icons. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end at all.
On Monday, Dustin Pedroia said the quiet part out loud: because of his ever-balky left knee, he’s unsure if he’s ever going to play baseball in the majors again.
“The last game I played, the pain was kind of to a point where I had to tell the trainer … ‘Listen man, I’ve gotta come out,’” Pedroia said. “It was a tough day. I knew I’d have tough days throughout this process. The next day I woke up and it wasn’t any better. So it’s to a point now where my knee is not allowing me to play every day. It’s taken awhile to realize that.”
This all-but-official ending would be painful for any player, but seems especially cruel for Pedroia, a player defined by his ability to defy the odds, his willingness to play through injuries, and his clear love for the game. It is obvious that, at least up until this most recent setback, Pedroia’s fire was still burning hot. But at long last, Pedroia must reconcile with the fact that his body cannot keep up with his spirit, no matter how strong that spirit may be.
Lord knows it’s not for lack of effort. There are countless examples over the years of Pedroia ignoring injury–perhaps to his ultimate detriment–in order to get back on the field. Consider this not-even-all-that-exhaustive list of Pedroia’s maladies:
- 2010: Pedroia fouls a ball of his foot in June, missing the better part of two months. He rushes his recovery, re-injures himself after two games and ultimately needs a metal pin inserted in his foot, missing the rest of the season.
- 2012: To varying degrees, Pedroia hurts both of this thumbs. Not great for an infielder or hitter!
- 2013: Pedroia tears the UCL in his left thumb on Opening Day. He plays in 160 games and hits .301/.372/.415. The Red Sox win the World Series.
- 2014: Pedroia ends the year needing thumb and wrist surgery, the fifth season in a row Pedroia ends his campaign going under the knife.
- 2015: Pedroia pulls his hamstring, rushes to come back and, you guessed it, reaggravates the injury
- 2016: Pedroia stays healthyish. No one dies or pays taxes. But, Pedoria needs microscopic surgery to clean up his left knee in the off-season.
- 2017: That same knee is damaged on a now-infamous Manny Machado slide. Pedroia plays hurt the whole year. He hits .293/.369/.392.
You can forgive everyone involved, and especially Pedroia himself, for thinking this latest leg setback wouldn’t be any different from the others. But it was. The experimental surgery Pedroia had after the 2017 season — a “cartilage restoration procedure” — has not, to date, paid off. Not only has Pedroia been unable to return to baseball in any sort of meaningful capacity, but there are now concerns that continuing to push his knee could result in quality of life issues that extend far beyond the confines of a diamond.
The truly pessimistic among us may argue that Pedroia was his own worst enemy, constantly exacerbating his injuries by rushing back no matter the cost. But Pedroia has only ever had one speed; balls-to-the-wall, all-out, max-effort baseball. It’s why Red Sox fans fell in love with him in the first place, and what helped him make the most out of his atypical athletic profile. To ask Dustin Pedroia to know when to dial it back is to ask him not to be Dustin Pedroia.
And man, were we lucky to see Dustin Pedroia at his Dustin Pedroia-yist. From 2007-2013, the true prime of his career, Pedroia hit .305/.372/.457. In that span alone, he won the AL ROY, the AL MVP, was named a Gold Glover three times and won two World Series rings. We owe it to Pedroia to remember his journey, and not just his destination. We can recall his incredible plays diving to his left, the laser shows he produced, the sound of Don Orsillo exclaiming “La Luna!” as Pedey launched balls over the Monster. There is plenty to celebrate.
That’s even truer in Boston, where Pedroia was everything a demanding fanbase demands its player to be: tough, loyal, and reciprocal in his affection for the city and the game.
Relatively few players in recent memory have shown as much dedication to their home organization as Pedroia has during the course of his career. Pedroia’s first contract extension — a six-year, $40-plus million pact — came after his age-24, AL MVP-winning 2008 season. One could argue that contract was as much about securing Pedroia’s future as it was ensuring he remain in Boston, though he certainly didn’t gun for top dollar.
However you feel about Pedroia’s first contract extension, there’s no way to dispute he gave Boston a substantial hometown discount in signing his eight-year, $110 million contract after 2013. That deal came on the heels of World Series win achieved in no small part thanks to Pedroia, who hit .301/.372/.415 in 2013 en route to posting 3.9 WARP and earning yet another Gold Glove, Silver Slugger and All-Star nod.
“This is my home,” Pedroia said after signing his eight-year deal. “I love being here, I love my teammates, I love this city. That’s really important. The Red Sox drafted me. A lot of teams passed on me because of my size and stuff like that.
“That’s why I want to make sure I work as hard as I can to make sure that they made the right choice in drafting me and me being here my whole career.”
A silver lining amidst another lost season in the dusk of Pedoria’s career is that when he does, eventually, decide to hang them up he will fulfill that long-term goal. It will be a banner achievement amidst myriad smaller shortcomings brought on by his maniacal desire to contribute. Still, there are various other aspects of Pedroia’s career end that seem particularly unfair.
For one, his ill-fated attempts at comebacks over the past few years have dropped his career average from .300-plus to .299. It’s not a difference that will swing his odds of entry into Cooperstown as it once might have, but it’s still a cruel fate to befall a man who was long one of the game’s better pure hitters, and who surely held more than a modicum of pride in his career average cresting that hallowed mark.
Another sad irony: Pedroia’s career is sunsetting under Alex Cora, the man who Pedroia partially replaced as an everyday player way back in 2006. Under different circumstances, that might be poetic. Under the current ones, it’s a painful reminder of baseball’s circle of life.
The twilight of Pedroia’s career involved a world-beating 2018 team that went on to secure the third championship of his career. This is more than most will ever receive and it is fair to point it out as a mitigating factor. The counterpoint: Pedroia has talked the talk and walked the walk when it comes to contributing to the team over the last two decades. His inability to be on the field for more than three games must cut him to the very core, even if his mentorship likely benefited the 2018 Red Sox in many untold and immeasurable ways.
Finally, it’s impossible not to juxtapose Pedroia’ send with David Ortiz’s. Ortiz was also hampered by leg injuries, yes, but they didn’t prevent him from competing at what was close to the top of his game. Ortiz posted a 161 DRC+ in this final season, the fourth-best mark of his career. He played in 151 games. He led the Red Sox to the postseason, if not all the way to the promised land. Short of earning yet another World Series trophy at Fenway, Ortiz’s retirement tour was about the best any athlete can hope for.
In contrast, Pedroia’s career finale is limping toward the opposite end of the spectrum. It seems unlikely that he’ll get a tour through the majors, or a playoff-related sendoff, or even the small luxury of getting to call his own shot.
In one sense, Pedroia’s circumstance is not terribly unique. Older players get hurt more often. Second basemen have notoriously troubling aging curves. The worst parts of every fanbase are always ready to write off players the second they stop producing. Were it not for Pedroia’s fire, his obstinance, and his dedication to his team and beyond all else, the game, this might seem par for the course.
But in many ways, it’s not. Pedroia’s unfair and untimely career end should serve as a reminder to us all to appreciate the homegrown stars in the primes of their careers today. Time seems limitless when your favorite player is 22, or 25, or really, even 30. But some day, Ronald Acuña Jr., will lose bat speed. Some day, Francisco Lindor will need to move off of shortstop. Some day, Mookie Betts will be a station-to-station player. Savor their primes while you can, because you never truly know when it will all be over.
What’s more, we’re reminded that we should truly celebrate those ever-rare instances where athletes do get to go out at their primes and on their own terms. We can roll our eyes at the Mariano Rivera gift tour, at Ortiz’s will he/won’t he act, and at C.C. Sabathia’s pre-season proclamation. But we shouldn’t.
Because for every Rivera, Ortiz or Sabathia, there are dozens of Pedorias. Players who battled every day, and players who loved the game long after it stopped loving them back. Players who fight and scrap their way through every last at-bat, every last second-opinion and until every last ounce of their physical ability is used up, despite how badly they wish it could be replenished.
Pedroia and the players like him deserve better, and we can play a small role in giving it to them.
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