We'll Miss Luis Arraez, but Herr-for-Brunansky Stands Alone
Guest author Jason Gudim laments the loss of Luis Arraez, while recognizing it most likely won't end up like the Brunansky-for-Herr debacle in 1988
Baseball fans of a certain age will remember the much-maligned trade of Tom Brunansky for Tommy Herr back in 1988. The Twins were mere months removed from winning the first World Series since the team moved from the nation’s capital, yet moved one of the stalwart players in an attempt to shore up what was a bit of a weakness on the 1987 club. Not only that, but the Twins did business with the team they had just defeated in an exciting seven-game World Series.
What Twins fans were treated to, instead, was a player who never really endeared himself to the city or the team’s fans, and in the minds of some altered Gary Gaetti’s trajectory as arguably the finest third baseman in franchise history. There’s no way to prove that and we’d rather deal in facts.
And the facts say that the trade was bad. Very bad. To give us more insight on that trade, and how even though Twins fans will undoubtedly miss Luis Arraez, his move to the Marlins will almost certainly be less painful than moving the player affectionately known as “Bruno” was nearly 35 years ago, good friend Jason Gudim has stepped in to give us some well-needed levity.
The first time baseball made me cry was April 22, 1988*, and I was just over a month away from my eighth birthday. The Twins had traded my favorite player — Tom Brunansky — to the Cardinals for a second baseman named Tommy Herr, or rather Tommy Freaking Herr, the only name I’ve ever been able to call him since that day.
I grew up with the Twins of the 1980s. Everyone on my little league team in Grand Forks loved Kirby Puckett, and so did I. We all emulated everything Kirby did, from his leg kick to using two hands to catch fly balls in the outfield.
But Bruno was my guy. I still don’t really know how or when or why it happened. I think at least part of it had to do with me having an uncle who looked a lot like him. Either way, in cheering for the Twins, I cheered loudest for Brunansky.
I have been raised to always cheer for the local teams. This has meant a lot of pain and heartache as I cheered for the University of North Dakota (as opposed to NDSU), the Vikings, the Timberwolves, the North Stars (and eventually the Wild, although it took a while for me to come around on that…stupid Norm Green), and of course the Twins.
But on April 22, 1988, I also became a Cardinals fan. Part of me went to St. Louis with Brunansky. For the last 35 years, this has been a fortuitous development for my baseball fandom, as the Cardinals have played a lot of good baseball while the Twins have occasionally played good baseball with a lot of bad baseball in between.
None of this really mattered or was relevant to anyone but myself until this year. On Jan. 20, the Twins once again traded my favorite player, this time to the Marlins. Luis Arraez was sent to Miami in exchange for Pablo Lopez, Jose Salas, and Byron Chourio.
Forty-two-year-old me was suddenly subjected to the same gamut of emotions I dealt with in 1988. I didn’t cry this time (scout’s honor), but I was angry, I was sad, and I was (and probably still am, to be honest) more than a little concerned the Twins made a big mistake.
“You don’t trade away a player with an elite skill,” I told myself and anyone who would listen. I could, and can, see a path where Arraez gets healthy, keeps getting better, and rewards the Marlins with multiple All-Star seasons. It’s possible, but probably not likely. He doesn’t really have a defensive home, he’s had well-documented health concerns, and it may not take very long until his contact and on-base skills don’t measure up to the production a team needs from the DH spot.
But even with my emotional attachment to Arraez, this doesn’t have to be the Brunansky-for-Tommy Freaking Herr trade.
For starters, the Twins got next to nothing for Bruno. Herr spent the rest of 1988 with the Twins, sporting a passable 1.5 bWAR in 345 PA**. Defensive numbers from the 80s, being what they are, show that he was probably slightly below average in the field. In the offseason, Herr was traded before free agency to the Phillies in a package of players that netted Shane Rawley, who subsequently played one year for the Twins and posted a 0.4 bWAR in what would end up as his final season in the majors.
Brunansky, on the other hand, played seven more seasons (including 1988), contributing 5.7 bWAR to the Cardinals, Red Sox, and Brewers. In 1990, the Cardinals flipped Bruno to the Red Sox for Lee Smith, who was stupendous for them in parts of four seasons. My fandom never again traveled with Brunansky. It was too hard to keep track of him in the pre-internet era.
The Twins have a much better chance of deriving value from the Arraez trade. This is baseball, and nothing is guaranteed, but Lopez (as we know) is a really good starting pitcher. He’s long been a favorite trade target of mine. We get him for at least two more seasons, and unless something falls apart, he seems like a likely candidate for an extension.
Salas, too, is no slouch. Over at Fangraphs, Eric Longenhagen gave him a 50 FV, which means he probably has a better-than-average chance to contribute at the major league level. This will be his age-20 season, and he’s already played a half-season in High-A ball. He probably won’t stick at shortstop, but he gets high scouting grades for his bat-to-ball skills and may even grow into some power. Chourio is a lottery ticket, and the odds are stacked against him, but sometimes lottery tickets work out and pay off.
I’m still emotional about Arraez. He was such a joy to watch. In the age of three true outcomes, he put the ball in play and rarely struck out. I will watch a few more Marlins games on my MLB.TV subscription this year, and maybe next season, too. But it’s highly unlikely I’ll be waxing nostalgic about this trade 35 years later.
At least, I hope not.
I was in my 30s at the time of the Bruno-Herr trade. I didn’t cry, but I thought it was a sketchy move. It felt like they were trying to dismantle the team.