Vladimir Guerrero will be a Toronto Blue Jay for life, essentially. And agreeing to the game’s second-largest contract is proof there’s a dance partner for almost everyone in Major League Baseball.
Guerrero’s 14-year, deferral-free $500 million extension trails only the great Juan Soto’s $765 million deal in value. It stops shy of Shohei Ohtani’s nice round number of $700 million, but Guerrero will see all the money before he’s on the wrong side of 40.
And it ends a long-running staring contest between franchise and player that intensified when the sides could not come to an agreement by the beginning of spring training.
While extensions have been doled out like so many Oprah studio gifts since Opening Day, Guerrero’s is one of one. As is he – which the Blue Jays were wise to realize.
Young money
At 26, Guerrero was bound for free agency at that magic age that equals unprecedented riches. Think Bryce Harper, Manny Machado and, yes, Soto, all reaping the benefits of being teenage or 20-ish prodigies who hit the market before their ages can be used against them.
At first glance, Guerrero falls just shy of those sluggers who all reset the contract bar in various meaningful fashions.
He’s had just one MVP-caliber season, a 2021 tour de force when he hit 48 home runs, amassed 6.5 WAR and only missed joining his Hall of Fame father in the MVP club because Ohtani existed.
The doomsayer might note that that season was effectively canceled out by a 2023 campaign during which Guerrero’s homers shrank to 26 and his OPS to .788, closer to league average than generational.
But a series of related events followed that shot Guerrero into the $500 million club.
First, Ohtani said thanks, but no thanks to the Blue Jays’ cross-continental pitch. And then MVP Vlad returned, hitting 30 homers and pushing his OPS back up to .940, his 167 adjusted mark matching his 2021 output – paired with just 96 strikeouts, a power-hitting savant by today’s standards.
And when the Jays’ bid for Soto resulted in another bridesmaid’s bouquet and Soto resetting the global contract market? Toronto had no choice but to come to Vladdy.
He handled it with the conviction and steadiness and security one might expect from a second-generation superstar. No, Guerrero said, he wasn’t seeking Soto money. And no, the Blue Jays hadn’t come particularly close in their offer.
When Blue Jays brass responded with some actuarial pablum about shared risk and sustainability and the like, Vlad looked like a goner. It made for great spring training drama, at the least.
Yet to both sides’ credit, the dialogue continued. Vlad held his ground; the Blue Jays realized the cost of a superstar to build their team and media empire around wasn’t about to go down.
‘Dry powder:’ Vlad remains in Toronto
And so it got done, its imminence first reported by Mike Rodriguez. And almost as important for the industry: Vlad won’t be a Yankee or a Red Sox or a Met.
Not that it would’ve mattered, anyway, but narratives have a way of spinning out of control. And the notion that two to four coastal elite franchises control all the talent – especially now that the Red Sox have woken up – was closer to becoming gospel as the collective bargaining agreement draws nearer to its December 2026 expiration.
Yet the Guerrero pact shows that the vast majority of teams, and all the players, enjoy a wide range of freedom. Freedom to say no to a contract extension, or re-up for life.
Freedom to use some of the “dry powder” that franchises possess toward one asset that fans know and love – or to hang onto for another day.
Everyone’s different, exemplified by Jackson Merrill’s decision to accept a nine-year, $135 million extension from San Diego as a 21-year-old rather than bide his time and hit free agency himself at that magic age of 26. Or the Red Sox guaranteeing Kristian Campbell at least $60 million less than a week into his career – and for Campbell to take that money in the bank and accept security.
Naturally, the lower-revenue clubs may struggle to retain stars a little more. Yet so many have scarcely tried, and come nowhere near leveraging their greatest resource – talent – to both build a fan base and buttress their franchise value. (If you’re scoring at home, the Paul Skenes Doomsday Clock in Pittsburgh has not quite five years remaining).
But deadlines can be fake. MLB and the MLB Players’ Association will prove that many times during their pre- and post-lockout posturing. So, too, was Vladdy’s spring training line in the sand.
Turns out there was will, and a way, and Blue Jays fans will be better off for it.
