Andres Chavez
The scoreboard at George M. Steinbrenner Field read 11-1, a scoreline that suggests the Yankees spent Tuesday afternoon treating the Panama national team like a high school junior varsity squad. It was a blowout, a laugher, a typical spring afternoon where the bats stayed hot and the sun stayed out. Yet, beneath the lopsided victory, all eyes were glued to the mound, watching Max Fried labor through a three-walk outing that felt a lot clunkier than the box score might indicate.
Fried isn’t some rookie trying to find the plate to save his career, but he looked human out there. The left-hander allowed zero runs and surrendered just a single hit, which usually smells like a masterpiece. It wasn’t. He was fighting his mechanics from the first pitch, struggling to find a rhythm that just didn’t want to be found.
Rust Never Sleeps Even for Aces
Three walks in a spring tune-up isn’t a crisis, but for a guy who has kept his walk rate under eight percent for the better part of five years, it was a weird sight. Fried was effectively wild, relying on a pair of timely double plays to bail him out of jams he created himself. He didn’t look like the 2.86 ERA monster we saw eat up 195.1 innings last season. He looked like a guy who had spent too much time on the backfields and not enough time facing hitters who actually wanted to ruin his day.
“Definitely rusty, definitely out of sync,” Fried told Greg Joyce of The New York Post. “But hit the capacity, the limit, the volume that we needed. Been doing a lot of live [batting practice sessions] in the backfields and nothing can recreate getting into a game with an umpire and different jerseys and all that.”
Boone Stays Cool Under the Florida Sun
Aaron Boone didn’t seem particularly bothered by his Opening Day starter’s lack of precision. The skipper noted that Fried’s stuff was still plenty live, with the lefty touching 95 mph while clearly working through a specific checklist of adjustments. Managers in the spring don’t care about the result as much as the process, and Fried got his pitch count up to 56 without his arm falling off. That is a win in the Grapefruit League every single time.
It is worth remembering that Fried is the anchor of this rotation for a reason. His ability to execute multiple pitches for strikes is his calling card, and a shaky afternoon against Panama doesn’t change the trajectory of his season. He is a professional strike-thrower who is currently shaking off the cobwebs of a long winter. The Yankees offense provided plenty of cover anyway, proving they can bludgeon international pitching staffs regardless of who is throwing for the other side.
The Road to Opening Day
The walks were annoying, sure, but the velocity and health are what actually matter right now. If Fried is sitting at 95 mph in early March, the command will inevitably follow once his muscle memory catches up to his intent. He has plenty of time to fine-tune the edges of the plate before the games actually start counting in the standings. Panic in the Bronx is a year-round sport, but freaking out over a few free passes in a game that doesn’t matter is a bridge too far even for the most cynical fans.
Fried is going to be the guy the Yankees hand the ball to when the lights get bright in late March. He knows he has work to do, and the coaching staff knows he has the pedigree to fix it. This wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a necessary step toward the version of Max Fried that fights for Cy Young awards. He got his work in, he stayed healthy, and he’ll be better next time out.
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