Juan Soto, Scottie B., and feeling validated
I’ve made many shortsighted moves since re-joining the hobby. Today, I’m writing about one that actually worked.
It’s a story of intuition, unquantified anecdotes, dumb luck, and validation.
The first modern player to whom I attached myself was Juan Soto. His statistical accomplishments and World Series title at such a young age filled my eyes with dollar signs. Soto, I hilariously thought, would be someone I could collect, hang onto, and cash out as I neared retirement age.
I totaled about 30 Soto cards. The trade rumors started. Yankees, Cardinals, Dodgers — all historically rich teams with large fan bases. Cool. Soto in any of those uniforms made sense.
Then the Padres rumors started.
Oh no.
Anywhere but San Diego or Detroit.
This is where intuition and anecdotes took hold. In my mind’s eye, San Diego and Detroit have the two home stadiums where powerful offensive bats go to die. Other than the very very (very very very) rare exception—Miguel Cabrera; Manny Machado—getting traded to or signing with the Padres or Tigers is an offensive catastrophe. I don’t collect Padres or Tigers. I won’t even have them on my fantasy teams.
On Aug. 2, 2022, Washington traded Soto to San Diego. That afternoon, in a fit of hobby panic, I posted and sold every Soto card I owned on Twitter right at comps. The MLB trade hypewave ensured they were snatched up nearly as quickly as I could get them posted.
Since then, Soto has struggled, especially at home.
Earlier today, Scottie B. posted a video investigating the early-season struggles of three MLB stars, including Soto. Especially Soto. Whereas I act on impulse and anecdotes, Scottie B. works with data. He actually does research, which is why I value him as the hobby’s top human resource for understanding modern baseball cards. I consume nearly all my hobby content via podcast. Scottie B.’s YouTube channel is the only hobby content I subscribe to on the platform.
“Here is Petco Park,” Scottie says in the video, pointing to data showing Soto’s career OPS at every ballpark. “Out of any stadium he’s played more than 30 games—even more than 15 games—it is by far the worst OPS that he has at any park.”
Vindication. Scottie’s video helped validate what I felt as a lover of baseball and a card collector. It told me I wasn’t crazy: San Diego is an offensive black hole. At least for Soto, anyway.
All any of us want is to feel like there’s a direct line between what we observe in the world and the realities of our world. Assumptions, anecdotes, intuition, and wishful thinking hold currency, but they can’t get us all the way there.
Data, measurables, analysis, and observations can bridge what we suspect and what we can know.
Scottie B. provides that. Maybe Soto, who’s only 24, will bounce back, and maybe I’ll someday regret unloading my entire Soto collection on that hot August afternoon. Maybe the .218 batting average and .383 slugging percentage Soto’s shown through his first 70 games with the Padres will prove an anomaly.
I hope so. It’s not fun to gain financially from another person’s struggles. I’d rather Soto had gone to the Yankees and hit like DiMaggio. I’d rather still have his cards and watch their value steadily climb over the next 15-20 years.
Still, sometimes it just feels good to get a win. To know you can sometimes trust your eyes. To know you made the right call. Sometimes that happens, but often it doesn’t, so we might as well savor the winning moments while we can.