He performed a baseball miracle. Now, true to his bizarro brand, Hunter Pence is doing it again.
Backward.
The quirky, lovable baseball savant began his unlikely career at obscure UT-Arlington, ramping up to the lofty heights of major league stardom as a two-time World Series champion bestowed with a $90-million contract. Then, left for dead in the wake of a stark decline and punchless 2018 season in San Francisco, he humbled himself in the depths of the Dominican winter and rose to again being one of baseball’s best – back where he started, in Arlington, with the Rangers.
When experts suggested retiring, Pence merely revamped. And now he’s an All-Star, one of baseball’s loudest feel-good stories of 2019.
“In the offseason all these people were sending me messages saying, ‘Hey, I hope you enjoy your retirement’,” Pence said last week. “It was really kind and they meant well. But I was intent on getting better, not giving up. I hope I’m a kind of messenger: Don’t let other people tell you what you can and can’t do.”
Salvaged off the junk pile by reclamation expert general manager Jon Daniels, Pence’s resurrection is the biggest and brightest surprise of a shocking season that has the Rangers befuddling critics that predicted 95 losses by being a competitive team flirting with a wild card berth at the halfway point. Daniels has pulled old, tattered rabbits out of his hat before and transformed them into assets, such as Vladimir Guerrero, Andruw Jones, Omar Vizquel, Kenny Lofton and Sammy Sosa. But at the end of last year, Pence’s “use by” date had clearly, sadly expired.
With the Giants, he hit .226 with only four homers. Thanks to the Dominican and Daniels, the 36-year-old is having one of the best seasons of his illustrious career. Despite a recent groin injury, he’s hitting around .300 with 15 homers and infusing the Rangers with that infectious attitude that has propelled his popularity since he starred at Arlington High School and UTA.
“I’m not gonna pretend I knew we’d get this kind of production from Hunter,” Daniels told us recently on an episode of our Press Box DFW Live! vodcast. “We knew he still had life in his body and would be a great influence in the clubhouse. The question was whether he could hit, and I think he’s answered that.”
Last week Pence was voted as the American League’s starting designated hitter in the All-Star Game July 9 in Cleveland. On a resume that includes three previous All-Star appearances, two World Series rings and 1,758 hits, the bullet-point highlight isn’t transformational.
But to appreciate how high Pence is, you have to acknowledge just how low he’d sunk.
He had glory, a cult following and more money in the bank than he could ever spend. But beneath the gangly limbs, eclectic YouTube videos and irrational love of board games, the peculiar Pence is powered by a relentless pursuit to improve. Yes, even at 36. Even when no one – anywhere – wanted him. He became Tiger Woods retooling his swing amidst his anointing as the all-time greatest golfer. He was Andre Agassi, picking up his own balls at challenger tournaments in an attempt to rebuild confidence despite having already won three legs of tennis’ Grand Slam.
On the final day of the 2018 season the Giants honored Pence at AT&T Park not unlike a loving family’s tear-filled eulogy before putting down a beloved pet. He was baseball’s Benjamin Button, suddenly old before he was through being young. Pence smiled, waved and said all the right things. But then he detoured violently – from the couch toward the Caribbean.
“I wasn’t depressed about last season at all,” he says. “It was Voltaire who said, ‘I choose to be happy because it’s good for my health.’ I like that.”
On the island in January, the Dominican Winter League is littered with wide-eye, wild-swinging prospects trying to hit their way to America. But there – playing in front of sparse crowds on uneven fields and dilapidated stadiums for Toros del Este – was a legendary player attempting to recalculate his way back.
Pence’s swing has never been one you would teach, even if you could. He lurches. He slaps. He bends at places where the human body has no hinges. He once contacted a ball – via broken bat – three times on the same swing. He’s Jim Furyk in a batting helmet. (We won’t even get into his running, churning arms, wide eyes or wagging tongue.) He sought the advice of hitting guru Doug Latta, who worked in the past on revamping the swings of J.D. Martinez and Justin Turner.
A couple of subtle swaps – hands held back longer, hips more square – and, voila, Pence’s trademark line-drive swing was producing more loft, more power.
“Simple, really,” Pence explains. “Keep the barrel of the bat in the zone longer. More bat, better hitting.”
Despite the relatively spartan conditions, Pence was still the upbeat, beloved goofball in the Toros clubhouse, leading chants and shirtless post-game speeches in butchered Spanish while wearing the team’s logo chain. But something else caught the eye of Rangers scouts.
Inexplicably, the ball was flying off a has-been’s bat.
Per Daniels’ formula, the Rangers offered Pence a minor-league contract to attend spring training. He continued turning heads in Surprise, Ariz., with not only his contact, but also his power.
The Rangers put him on their Opening Day roster as a low-risk, high-reward gamble. In a year with exasperatingly low expectations, maybe he would be a tradable commodity attractive to contending teams at the trade deadline. But don’t look now, instead Pence has been repurposed as baseball’s Comeback Player of the Year, the oldest starter in the All-Star Game and a cog in a team that was last week 10 games over .500.
In 2018, Pence was 40% worse than the average hitter. In 2019, he’s 40% better than the average hitter. Baseball is 100% fortunate to have him around.
Typical Spence, he traveled the four corners just to come full circle.
