Trading Johan Was a Raw Deal

Throughout the entire Johan Santana trade drama that kept baseball under hostage for the past two months (and really, aren’t you grateful to the Detroit Tigers for getting their blockbuster deal done quickly, freeing us to pay attention to other news, such as, say the upcoming presidential election?), I often visualized Lloyd Bridges when thinking of Minnesota Twins general manager Bill Smith. In particular, I thought of Bridges’ Steve McCroskey in Airplane, embracing each of his vices as the crisis escalates. (And that might be the most serious description of Airplane ever written.)

“Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking.”

“Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit smoking.”

“Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.”

“Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines.”

Smith probably picked the wrong year to become the Twins’ general manager. With every conversation between the Twins and the New York Yankees, or the Boston Red Sox, or the New York Mets, or any other major league team that poked their head into the room to see if they might have a shot at acquiring Santana, along with every rumor of a young player or prospect that may or may not have been involved in such a deal, Terry Ryan must have kicked back with a cognac, relieved that he resigned at the end of last season and didn’t have to deal with this stuff.

Maybe Ryan would’ve had fun with fielding the various offers and combing lists of prospects that could stock up the Twins’ minor league system. Maybe he raised an eyebrow in admiration when Smith was able to acquire Delmon Young for one of the many pitching prodigies his organization had developed (among other players), and was eager to see what kind of stash his successor could corral for the best pitcher in baseball. Or maybe he knew that the Twins were never going to receive full value in return for Santana. Not when virtually everyone in the sport knew that Minnesota couldn’t afford to keep him (despite Carl Pohlad’s vast fortune). Not when Santana only had a year remaining before free agency. Not when he was going to draw a contract that would carry its own gross domestic product, in lieu of the $126 million deal Barry Zito received from the San Francisco Giants a year ago.

So is it any wonder that many baseball observers looked at what the Twins received in return from the New York Mets, and tried to read more closely, as if the article explaining the trade’s terms was missing a sentence or two that surely included another player? Where is Minnesota’s next top baseball star in this stash? Where is the Hanley Ramirez or Cameron Maybin that the little brother in such deals typically gets for their trouble? How did the Mets get a superstar pitcher like Santana without having to give up top prospects Fernando Martinez or Mike Pelfrey? Where was the future star like Phil Hughes or Jacoby Ellsbury that surely would be ticketed for Minneapolis in such a deal?

Carlos Gomez is a nice player (he made quite an impression on Tigers fans last June) and fills an immediate need for Minnesota in center field, but does he even project to be as good as Torii Hunter was for the Twins at that position? Is Philip Humber a pitcher that could someday replace Santana at the top of the Twins’ rotation? Where’s the bat that Minnesota so sorely needs to bolster what’s been one of the most feeble hitting infields (besides Justin Morneau) in the major leagues? Shouldn’t at least one of these holes been filled by trading their best player?

But that’s what happens when you have no leverage in trade negotiations. The Yankees and Red Sox didn’t need Johan Santana. Perhaps the Mets did, which is why Santana is getting fitted for the other New York pinstripes and figuring out how to spend $137.5 million, while Omar Minaya is having a huge Super Bowl party today. But the Twins absolutely had to make a trade. If signing Santana to a long-term contract to keep him in Minneapolis wasn’t an option, Bill Smith absolutely had to get something in return. To let him go for nothing would’ve made him look like a fool within baseball circles.

And that’s why Terry Ryan picked just the right year to retire.