Post by Rays GM on Jul 16, 2018 2:24:30 GMT -5
The 2011 Red Sox draft was known for the big name specs it produced: Matt Barnes, a flame throwing righty from Connecticut; Blake Swihart, an athletic marvel at catcher with a quick bat; Henry Owens, an ultra lanky lefty with projection to dream on; and Jackie Bradley Jr, a CWS hero who was coming off a down year due to injury. Even their 9th round pick, Travis Shaw, would become a productive regular in the bigs. But despite the hype from that class (Owens and Swihart were locked on in particular, because they were the comp picks the Sox received for letting Adrian Beltre, a real life folk hero after his monster year in 2010, walk to the Rangers), there were two prospects in particular who would define it forever.
The first prospect was the one guy the Red Sox brass were most excited about: He was an African American high schooler they had taken in the middle rounds, who was tooled up beyond belief, with physical gifts that would blossom in him signing a multi-million dollar contract one day. He was, in some corners, considered the best athlete in the entire draft that year. As one scouting report put it:
"Outstanding athlete committed to Ole Miss for both football and baseball. Elite speed. Above-average present strength, plus power potential due to well-above-average bat speed. Fundamentals should come around if he's able to focus all of his attention on baseball."
The kid's name was Senquez Golson.
Golson had grown up in Pascagoula, Missouri, a football hotbed. Even then, he was a special athlete. He lettered for baseball, track, and football while in high school, the kind of sensation that would make HS sport worth watching. He was an elite runner, posting blazing times; he even claimed a state championship in the 100 meter dash, posting a 10.66 time. Meanwhile, he was named First Team All American by Rawling for his baseball exploits, as his speed made him a terror on the basepaths. But football was where he really excelled, as he was ranked the No. 33 CB prospect in the nation, and committed to Ole Miss to play football. It was an easy decision. Even then, with his time divied up, and accolades rolling in from all directions, he knew he wanted to play football. It was an easy decision.
But as it turned out, it really wasn't an easy decision.
One day, the Boston Red Sox called him that they had taken him in the 8th round of the 2011 MLB draft, the summer before he was due to step onto Ole Miss's campus. They cajoled him; promised him that he was their CF of the future (of course, because with that speed, how could he not play CF?). They dangled a $1.35 million signing bonus in front of his eyes. It must have been tempting for a kid who never had much, but he set his foot down. He knew where his passions lay, but understood the gravity of his decision. Years later, when he was a professional corner back in the Pittsburgh Steelers organization, he would explain it as:
"It came down to what I love to do every day, and that's football," said Golson, "Not knowing which direction I wanted to take, I relied on my football ability."
And so he passed. It was $1.35 million dollars, a lifeline rejected in favor of a brute's career. It was a stunning decision, one that had the condescending Boston press enraged: "Who the fuck turned down 1.35 million dollars from the Boston Red Sox to spend three years in Missouri?" But what's done was done, and negotiations were over. He had chosen his career, and the Boston Red Sox now had 1.85 million to spend on someone else.
Reluctantly, and a little heartbroken, the Red Sox rushed back to their board to reuse their extra cash lying around. They decided to make a last minute deal with their still unsigned 5th round pick, who had gruffly decided if the Red Sox weren't going to consider him as their first signing priority, he was going to continue with his scholarship at the University of Tennessee.
Like Golson, he also was a well regarded athlete in high school, earning distinction in basketball and bowling. But he was small and quirky, and relatively punchless as a baseball hitter, and despite his "twitchiness", the much maligned scouting word that doesn't really mean as much as it should, the Red Sox thought he could be an interesting utility guy, someone whose athleticism could have him play multiple positions while his speed would make him a threat on the basepaths. They gave him 750 K just minutes before the signing deadline, and then watched him post a .658 OPS in his first full season next year. It was the best decision they ever made.
And that's the story of how Mookie Betts became a Boston Red Sox.
The first prospect was the one guy the Red Sox brass were most excited about: He was an African American high schooler they had taken in the middle rounds, who was tooled up beyond belief, with physical gifts that would blossom in him signing a multi-million dollar contract one day. He was, in some corners, considered the best athlete in the entire draft that year. As one scouting report put it:
"Outstanding athlete committed to Ole Miss for both football and baseball. Elite speed. Above-average present strength, plus power potential due to well-above-average bat speed. Fundamentals should come around if he's able to focus all of his attention on baseball."
The kid's name was Senquez Golson.
Golson had grown up in Pascagoula, Missouri, a football hotbed. Even then, he was a special athlete. He lettered for baseball, track, and football while in high school, the kind of sensation that would make HS sport worth watching. He was an elite runner, posting blazing times; he even claimed a state championship in the 100 meter dash, posting a 10.66 time. Meanwhile, he was named First Team All American by Rawling for his baseball exploits, as his speed made him a terror on the basepaths. But football was where he really excelled, as he was ranked the No. 33 CB prospect in the nation, and committed to Ole Miss to play football. It was an easy decision. Even then, with his time divied up, and accolades rolling in from all directions, he knew he wanted to play football. It was an easy decision.
But as it turned out, it really wasn't an easy decision.
One day, the Boston Red Sox called him that they had taken him in the 8th round of the 2011 MLB draft, the summer before he was due to step onto Ole Miss's campus. They cajoled him; promised him that he was their CF of the future (of course, because with that speed, how could he not play CF?). They dangled a $1.35 million signing bonus in front of his eyes. It must have been tempting for a kid who never had much, but he set his foot down. He knew where his passions lay, but understood the gravity of his decision. Years later, when he was a professional corner back in the Pittsburgh Steelers organization, he would explain it as:
"It came down to what I love to do every day, and that's football," said Golson, "Not knowing which direction I wanted to take, I relied on my football ability."
And so he passed. It was $1.35 million dollars, a lifeline rejected in favor of a brute's career. It was a stunning decision, one that had the condescending Boston press enraged: "Who the fuck turned down 1.35 million dollars from the Boston Red Sox to spend three years in Missouri?" But what's done was done, and negotiations were over. He had chosen his career, and the Boston Red Sox now had 1.85 million to spend on someone else.
Reluctantly, and a little heartbroken, the Red Sox rushed back to their board to reuse their extra cash lying around. They decided to make a last minute deal with their still unsigned 5th round pick, who had gruffly decided if the Red Sox weren't going to consider him as their first signing priority, he was going to continue with his scholarship at the University of Tennessee.
Like Golson, he also was a well regarded athlete in high school, earning distinction in basketball and bowling. But he was small and quirky, and relatively punchless as a baseball hitter, and despite his "twitchiness", the much maligned scouting word that doesn't really mean as much as it should, the Red Sox thought he could be an interesting utility guy, someone whose athleticism could have him play multiple positions while his speed would make him a threat on the basepaths. They gave him 750 K just minutes before the signing deadline, and then watched him post a .658 OPS in his first full season next year. It was the best decision they ever made.
And that's the story of how Mookie Betts became a Boston Red Sox.
