OOTP Developments Forums - View Single Post - KC Royals - An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough

Biggp07 · 11-10-2025, 09:42 PM

⚾ Episode 6 – Crossroads and Conclusions

The Shape of What Comes Next

(An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough – September 2024)
________________________________________

September 1 – Roster Expansion, Perspective is Narrow Focus

September brings the bittersweet kind of hope — the final stretch when you get to see the next generation under real lights. There’s something freeing about flipping the calendar to September. The standings stop mattering quite so much, and the box scores start to whisper instead of shout. It’s when you start watching details—approaches at the plate, pitch sequencing, reactions in pressure moments—and not the scoreboard.

We expanded rosters with two call-ups: RF Nelson Velasquez and SP Daniel Lynch IV. Both deserved it. Nelson’s late-season surge in Omaha and Lynch’s persistence through injury made them the right fits.I wanted to see what they could do when the games still meant something for pride, if not position.

Our first game of the month felt symbolic. Anthony Veneziano tossed a confident five innings in Houston, beating the Astros 5–2. Bobby Witt Jr. crushed a two-run homer in the first inning that landed deep into the left-field bleachers—his 20th on the year and leadership finally matching his stats.

For the first time all season, I felt like we were playing forward, not simply playing out the string. I started seeing glimpses of a future core — Witt, Ragans, Veneziano, Garcia, and the kids working their way up behind them.

Ownership probably didn’t see it yet. The fans maybe not either. But from the dugout rail, I could feel it.

Sometimes progress doesn’t shout; it hums.
________________________________________

September 2–4 – Home Turf and Glimmers

We came back to Kauffman for one final homestand against Cleveland. I wish I could say we looked like a different team, but the Guardians still had our number early. They took the first two games, grinding out late-inning rallies while our bullpen sputtered.

Still, there were moments—Ferguson’s six-up, six-down relief outing; Nola’s framing giving our young arms breathing room; India finding a rhythm in the lineup.

Then came Game 3. Witt exploded with two home runs and four RBIs, reminding everyone exactly who the cornerstone of this team really is. Lynch IV came on in emergency duty when Eflin left early with a blister, and the kid dealt—nearly five innings of one-run ball. We took it 8–2, snapping Cleveland’s streak and the funk we’d been carrying.

I left that night with a simple thought written in my notebook:

“We’re not good yet. But we’re becoming something.”
________________________________________

September 6–8 – Testing the Young Arms, A Quiet Win That Mattered

Jason McLeod returned from Venezuela that week, delivering another report that made me smile: a 16-year-old named Bellchyor Cassm, raw but gifted, now in our international complex. Our scouting reach is finally starting to show.

On the field, the Twins came to town with division hopes in hand and beat us twice to prove the gap still exists. We dropped two, then salvaged the third behind a strong outing from Kris Bubic and a bullpen led by Bernardino. But the highlight was our waiver claim of RP Stevie Emanuels from Oakland—a quiet acquisition that turned into a showcase.

He debuted that Sunday and threw 2.2 scoreless innings in a 4–1 win over Minnesota, striking out three. Efficiency. Composure. A heartbeat fit for middle relief. Sometimes, success doesn’t announce itself—it just throws strikes. Austin Nola hit a two-run double to seal it. Kyle Isbel scored three times.

The win didn’t move us in the standings, but I wrote in my notebook afterward: “That’s how contenders learn to start games — by stealing small victories when the big ones are gone.”

We were learning to play baseball the right way again. That was the real progress.
________________________________________

September 9–11 – The Yankees and a Moment of Silence

We rolled into Yankee Stadium for a three-game set that would be memorable for reasons beyond baseball.

Before Game 3, the stadium held a moment of silence for September 11, marking the 23rd anniversary. I’ve been in this game long enough to see how baseball carries history on its sleeve. The FDNY and NYPD hats, Realmuto’s tribute mask—it was solemn, powerful, human.

The Yankees swept us, of course. Soto hit two homers in Game 1, Volpe delivered the dagger in Game 2, and Pereira went wild in Game 3. But it was impossible to feel frustrated standing there during the tribute, remembering that the game, for all its grind, is still just a game.
________________________________________

September 13–18 – Road Grind and Small Victories

We moved on to Pittsburgh, where Veneziano and Marsh both gave us glimpses of the rotation’s future. Marsh threw six efficient innings in a 4–2 win, his best outing of the year, while Anthony Veneziano turned in his best start of the year — seven innings, one run, seven strikeouts in Pittsburgh.

I stood at the top step of the dugout, watching him walk off the mound. The way he carried himself — calm, efficient, in command — I saw more than a good outing. I saw a seed sprouting. In this job, you cling to those moments. Because someday, that same kid might be your Game 1 starter in October.

That’s how you survive the losing seasons — by seeing October in September, even when no one else does.

In Double-A, I saw McLeod’s development notes come to life: Cassm signed, international scouts were deep in Venezuela, and the rookie squads were finishing atop their divisions. After half a season of bruises, the system was finally beginning to breathe.

Our record hovered near 65 wins—nothing to celebrate, but enough to remind ownership we weren’t standing still.
________________________________________

September 25 – Ownership Check-In

John Sherman called. It was short and transactional. He wanted a progress summary before the winter meetings. I gave him one:

Top 20 in farm system projections, three 2024 draftees signed and performing, payroll stabilized, player morale holding steady.

He asked me if I thought I could “turn the corner” by 2026. I said, “We already started turning.”

He paused for a long time, then said, “Alright. Keep steering.”

It wasn’t praise, but it was trust — and that’s rarer.
________________________________________

September 19–30 – The Season’s Final Days

The final stretch was a mix of auditions and endurance. Ferguson continued to dominate as a high-leverage reliever, Bernardino closed games with confidence, and Witt finished his campaign with over 20 homers and 30 steals.

Garcia came back up and immediately reignited the infield—his glove at third, and his plate discipline had grown in just a month at Omaha. Vaz earned late-season starts, showing why his name is worth remembering.

By the final home game, the players lingered on the field longer than usual—handshakes, helmet taps, quiet words. It wasn’t a playoff celebration, but it was something else: the birth of a new core, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this rebuild has roots.

The final out came on a fly ball to center. No celebration, no heartbreak — just a long exhale.

We finished 70–92, 5th place in the division, or last in simple terms. A losing record, yes, at .432 PCT, but a team that no longer felt lost.

I stood on the field after the handshake line, hands on my hips, doing what GMs do best: watching. Watching the players pack up. Watching for body language, for energy, for buy-in. The stadium lights hummed, the air cool with early fall.

For a moment, I felt peace. The kind that comes only after months of noise. I’d done what I came here to do — not fix everything, but understand it. To learn what kind of foundation we had, and how deep I’d need to dig to build something lasting.

“You can’t rebuild overnight—but sometimes, you can see the sunrise.”
________________________________________

Closing Note – September’s Lesson

This was the hardest season of my life — and the most important.

I learned that leadership isn’t about perfection; it’s about endurance.

I learned that rebuilding isn’t about tearing down; it’s about waiting for the right moment to plant again.

September doesn’t lie. It tells you what’s real about your organization—what you’ve built and what still breaks under pressure. We won some, lost more, but we discovered pieces of ourselves that matter: Ferguson’s poise, Witt’s leadership, Vaz’s potential, and a draft class that’s already shaping the narrative of next spring.

The farm system is alive. The dugout feels accountable. And for the first time in years, there’s a quiet belief returning to Kauffman. The record doesn’t show it yet, but the culture shifted.

Next year will bring harder choices, sharper expectations, and, if we do it right, the first steps toward a true contender.

The experiment isn’t over — it’s just begun to work.

Rebuilds aren’t defined by wins. They’re defined by clarity. And for the first time this season, we could finally see the shape of what we’re becoming.

For now, I’ll take a deep breath, close the laptop, and finally let myself feel what I’ve been too busy to notice:

Pride.

I closed my season journal with one last note before the off-season meetings began:

“Patience isn’t passive—it’s the work between the noise.”
________________________________________
⚾ — Todd “BigP” Pollard
General Manager & Manager, Kansas City Royals
“We didn’t win it all — but we started something that will.”
“Progress doesn’t always look like winning—but it still moves the scoreboard of the future.”
________________________________________

11-10-2025, 09:42 PM	#178
Biggp07 Major Leagues Join Date: Sep 2024 Posts: 321	⚾ Episode 6 – Crossroads and Conclusions The Shape of What Comes Next (An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough – September 2024) ________________________________________ September 1 – Roster Expansion, Perspective is Narrow Focus September brings the bittersweet kind of hope — the final stretch when you get to see the next generation under real lights. There’s something freeing about flipping the calendar to September. The standings stop mattering quite so much, and the box scores start to whisper instead of shout. It’s when you start watching details—approaches at the plate, pitch sequencing, reactions in pressure moments—and not the scoreboard. We expanded rosters with two call-ups: RF Nelson Velasquez and SP Daniel Lynch IV. Both deserved it. Nelson’s late-season surge in Omaha and Lynch’s persistence through injury made them the right fits.I wanted to see what they could do when the games still meant something for pride, if not position. Our first game of the month felt symbolic. Anthony Veneziano tossed a confident five innings in Houston, beating the Astros 5–2. Bobby Witt Jr. crushed a two-run homer in the first inning that landed deep into the left-field bleachers—his 20th on the year and leadership finally matching his stats. For the first time all season, I felt like we were playing forward, not simply playing out the string. I started seeing glimpses of a future core — Witt, Ragans, Veneziano, Garcia, and the kids working their way up behind them. Ownership probably didn’t see it yet. The fans maybe not either. But from the dugout rail, I could feel it. Sometimes progress doesn’t shout; it hums. ________________________________________ September 2–4 – Home Turf and Glimmers We came back to Kauffman for one final homestand against Cleveland. I wish I could say we looked like a different team, but the Guardians still had our number early. They took the first two games, grinding out late-inning rallies while our bullpen sputtered. Still, there were moments—Ferguson’s six-up, six-down relief outing; Nola’s framing giving our young arms breathing room; India finding a rhythm in the lineup. Then came Game 3. Witt exploded with two home runs and four RBIs, reminding everyone exactly who the cornerstone of this team really is. Lynch IV came on in emergency duty when Eflin left early with a blister, and the kid dealt—nearly five innings of one-run ball. We took it 8–2, snapping Cleveland’s streak and the funk we’d been carrying. I left that night with a simple thought written in my notebook: “We’re not good yet. But we’re becoming something.” ________________________________________ September 6–8 – Testing the Young Arms, A Quiet Win That Mattered Jason McLeod returned from Venezuela that week, delivering another report that made me smile: a 16-year-old named Bellchyor Cassm, raw but gifted, now in our international complex. Our scouting reach is finally starting to show. On the field, the Twins came to town with division hopes in hand and beat us twice to prove the gap still exists. We dropped two, then salvaged the third behind a strong outing from Kris Bubic and a bullpen led by Bernardino. But the highlight was our waiver claim of RP Stevie Emanuels from Oakland—a quiet acquisition that turned into a showcase. He debuted that Sunday and threw 2.2 scoreless innings in a 4–1 win over Minnesota, striking out three. Efficiency. Composure. A heartbeat fit for middle relief. Sometimes, success doesn’t announce itself—it just throws strikes. Austin Nola hit a two-run double to seal it. Kyle Isbel scored three times. The win didn’t move us in the standings, but I wrote in my notebook afterward: “That’s how contenders learn to start games — by stealing small victories when the big ones are gone.” We were learning to play baseball the right way again. That was the real progress. ________________________________________ September 9–11 – The Yankees and a Moment of Silence We rolled into Yankee Stadium for a three-game set that would be memorable for reasons beyond baseball. Before Game 3, the stadium held a moment of silence for September 11, marking the 23rd anniversary. I’ve been in this game long enough to see how baseball carries history on its sleeve. The FDNY and NYPD hats, Realmuto’s tribute mask—it was solemn, powerful, human. The Yankees swept us, of course. Soto hit two homers in Game 1, Volpe delivered the dagger in Game 2, and Pereira went wild in Game 3. But it was impossible to feel frustrated standing there during the tribute, remembering that the game, for all its grind, is still just a game. ________________________________________ September 13–18 – Road Grind and Small Victories We moved on to Pittsburgh, where Veneziano and Marsh both gave us glimpses of the rotation’s future. Marsh threw six efficient innings in a 4–2 win, his best outing of the year, while Anthony Veneziano turned in his best start of the year — seven innings, one run, seven strikeouts in Pittsburgh. I stood at the top step of the dugout, watching him walk off the mound. The way he carried himself — calm, efficient, in command — I saw more than a good outing. I saw a seed sprouting. In this job, you cling to those moments. Because someday, that same kid might be your Game 1 starter in October. That’s how you survive the losing seasons — by seeing October in September, even when no one else does. In Double-A, I saw McLeod’s development notes come to life: Cassm signed, international scouts were deep in Venezuela, and the rookie squads were finishing atop their divisions. After half a season of bruises, the system was finally beginning to breathe. Our record hovered near 65 wins—nothing to celebrate, but enough to remind ownership we weren’t standing still. ________________________________________ September 25 – Ownership Check-In John Sherman called. It was short and transactional. He wanted a progress summary before the winter meetings. I gave him one: Top 20 in farm system projections, three 2024 draftees signed and performing, payroll stabilized, player morale holding steady. He asked me if I thought I could “turn the corner” by 2026. I said, “We already started turning.” He paused for a long time, then said, “Alright. Keep steering.” It wasn’t praise, but it was trust — and that’s rarer. ________________________________________ September 19–30 – The Season’s Final Days The final stretch was a mix of auditions and endurance. Ferguson continued to dominate as a high-leverage reliever, Bernardino closed games with confidence, and Witt finished his campaign with over 20 homers and 30 steals. Garcia came back up and immediately reignited the infield—his glove at third, and his plate discipline had grown in just a month at Omaha. Vaz earned late-season starts, showing why his name is worth remembering. By the final home game, the players lingered on the field longer than usual—handshakes, helmet taps, quiet words. It wasn’t a playoff celebration, but it was something else: the birth of a new core, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this rebuild has roots. The final out came on a fly ball to center. No celebration, no heartbreak — just a long exhale. We finished 70–92, 5th place in the division, or last in simple terms. A losing record, yes, at .432 PCT, but a team that no longer felt lost. I stood on the field after the handshake line, hands on my hips, doing what GMs do best: watching. Watching the players pack up. Watching for body language, for energy, for buy-in. The stadium lights hummed, the air cool with early fall. For a moment, I felt peace. The kind that comes only after months of noise. I’d done what I came here to do — not fix everything, but understand it. To learn what kind of foundation we had, and how deep I’d need to dig to build something lasting. “You can’t rebuild overnight—but sometimes, you can see the sunrise.” ________________________________________ Closing Note – September’s Lesson This was the hardest season of my life — and the most important. I learned that leadership isn’t about perfection; it’s about endurance. I learned that rebuilding isn’t about tearing down; it’s about waiting for the right moment to plant again. September doesn’t lie. It tells you what’s real about your organization—what you’ve built and what still breaks under pressure. We won some, lost more, but we discovered pieces of ourselves that matter: Ferguson’s poise, Witt’s leadership, Vaz’s potential, and a draft class that’s already shaping the narrative of next spring. The farm system is alive. The dugout feels accountable. And for the first time in years, there’s a quiet belief returning to Kauffman. The record doesn’t show it yet, but the culture shifted. Next year will bring harder choices, sharper expectations, and, if we do it right, the first steps toward a true contender. The experiment isn’t over — it’s just begun to work. Rebuilds aren’t defined by wins. They’re defined by clarity. And for the first time this season, we could finally see the shape of what we’re becoming. For now, I’ll take a deep breath, close the laptop, and finally let myself feel what I’ve been too busy to notice: Pride. I closed my season journal with one last note before the off-season meetings began: *“Patience isn’t passive—it’s the work between the noise.”* ________________________________________ ⚾ — Todd “BigP” Pollard General Manager & Manager, Kansas City Royals “We didn’t win it all — but we started something that will.” “Progress doesn’t always look like winning—but it still moves the scoreboard of the future.” ________________________________________ Last edited by Biggp07; 11-12-2025 at 10:03 AM.