UTK Special 12/14/24
Bronx Airbender
The New York Yankees spent the postseason talking about how they had "unlocked something" in Luke Weaver. The journeyman right-hander had shown flashes of brilliance after being claimed off waivers, pitching to a sub-3.00 ERA over the final stretch of the season while striking out batters at a career-high rate. The narrative was clear: Weaver’s resurgence was no fluke but rather the result of Yankee pitching development turning coal into diamonds. And then, as soon as Devin Williams hit the trade block, the Yankees pounced.
Devin Williams is a tremendous pitcher. His changeup, dubbed the "Airbender," is a singular weapon in baseball. He has a career ERA under 2.00, a Rookie of the Year Award, and an All-Star appearance to his name. But the Yankees' pivot to acquire him— at significant cost and with only one year of control — raises questions about their faith in Weaver, their bullpen-building philosophy, and the modern valuation of the closer role.
The debate over the importance of closers has raged for years. The position often garners outsized attention thanks to its high-pressure moments and gaudy save totals, but advanced metrics and strategic analysis have repeatedly shown that rigid bullpen roles are inefficient. Teams like the Tampa Bay Rays and Cleveland Guardians have demonstrated that leveraging relievers based on matchups rather than the inning can maximize value. The Yankees, one of the wealthiest and most analytically driven organizations in the sport, should know this. And yet, they pursued Williams, a “shiny closer tag” pitcher, rather than doubling down on Weaver or finding another underappreciated arm to mold.
Williams isn’t without risk. The back injury was quirky, but while it healed well, we’ve seen more of this type of injury and there’s no clear reasoning on why this is, let alone a good reason for Williams. He’s certainly not putting less stress on his back with his high-stress delivery, though one would think that the Yankees’ pitching lab and infrastructure should help with that. Let’s call it a wash as both have great medical, analytic, and performance staffs.
Weaver’s success in pinstripes wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had long been considered a pitcher with untapped potential, boasting a fastball with good velocity and a changeup that could be devastating at times. The Yankees adjusted his pitch mix, emphasizing his cutter and slider to keep hitters off balance. They also tinkered with his mechanics, helping him generate more consistent command. For two months, it worked. Weaver turned into the kind of late-inning weapon the Yankees needed, holding opponents to a .190 batting average and proving effective against both lefties and righties. His peripherals supported the success: a low FIP, strong strikeout-to-walk ratios, and soft contact rates.
But two months is a small sample size. Did the Yankees fear regression? Did they think Weaver’s newfound success wasn’t sustainable over a full season? Or did they simply believe they could repeat the process with another undervalued pitcher and that trading Weaver for Williams represented an upgrade too tempting to pass up?
Acquiring Devin Williams wasn’t cheap. The Yankees gave up a top prospect and a guy who somehow seemed like a Yankee legend despite pedestrian stuff. It’s a steep price to pay for any reliever, no matter how dominant. Relievers are volatile by nature, but Williams has been a model of consistency since debuting in 2019. His elite strikeout rates and penchant for weak contact make him a plug-and-play closer who can anchor the back of the bullpen for years. But herein lies the paradox: if relievers are so unpredictable, why invest so heavily in one? And if you believe in your pitching infrastructure — as the Yankees seemed to with Weaver — why not find another diamond in the rough rather than paying retail for a player with an established “closer” label?
(Another thought here: while the narrative was about how the Yankees had unlocked Weaver, did we ever hear that from anyone on record? I looked back through my notes and I don’t see it, but there’s no good way to do a broad search. I’m sure Aaron Boone said some nice things in media availabilities, but I might be putting too much stock in media narratives over what the Yankees actually believed.)
Even in today’s analytically driven era, the closer role retains mystique. Part of this is psychological. Teams want someone they can trust in the ninth inning, a pitcher with a proven track record who won’t wilt under pressure. (They should test that.) That confidence trickles down to the rest of the roster, bolstering morale in tight games. But this psychological comfort comes at a cost. The Yankees could have used the prospect capital spent on Williams to address other needs—a left fielder, perhaps, or another starting pitcher. And while Williams is undoubtedly elite, the Yankees’ bullpen still has questions. Weaver’s there, but Mark Leiter didn’t even make the playoff roster initially. Behind him is a returning Jonathan Loaisiga and … well, they may need to find a couple more Weaver-like arms out there, especially without a lefty in the current pen.
It’s worth noting that Weaver — or someone like him — could have been just as effective in a setup role. The Yankees have excelled at identifying and developing bullpen arms, turning seemingly marginal talents into reliable contributors. The question is why they didn’t trust their own process this time.
The Yankees’ decision to trade for Williams while moving on from Weaver speaks to a broader tension within the organization. Are they a team that values efficiency, unearthing hidden gems and maximizing their resources? Or are they still prone to old-school thinking, chasing name-brand players to satisfy fans and bolster their prestige? The answer may lie somewhere in between. The Yankees are undoubtedly data-driven, but they’re also a team with sky-high expectations. Their fanbase demands results, and flashy acquisitions like Williams generate buzz and signal seriousness. Weaver’s emergence was a nice story, but it didn’t carry the same weight as landing one of the game’s premier relievers.
Still, the move invites scrutiny. If Weaver regresses elsewhere while Williams solidifies the back end of the Yankees’ bullpen, the trade will look savvy. But if Weaver continues to thrive and Williams falters, the Yankees’ decision will be second-guessed. And even if both succeed, questions will remain about whether New York overpaid for a closer in an era when bullpen roles are more fluid than ever.
The Yankees’ pursuit of Devin Williams reflects a fascinating dichotomy in modern baseball. While teams are smarter than ever about the volatility of relievers and the inefficiency of rigid roles, the allure of a proven closer still looms large. For the Yankees, trading for Williams may prove to be a masterstroke or an overcorrection. Either way, it highlights the challenges of balancing analytics with tradition, and ambition with pragmatism. Luke Weaver’s time in New York was brief but illustrative: even in a small sample, he showed how good the Yankees are at identifying and refining talent. The question is whether that belief in their process extends to trusting a player like Weaver in a key role — or if they’ll always default to the safety and sizzle of a name like Devin Williams.