Before we begin looking ahead to 2027, OTM is looking back at 2026, highlighting some of the biggest, strangest, and most memorable moments of a memorable season. Today, we look at one of the most deflating trade deadline acquisitions of all-time.
The July version of the Red Sox were magic. Even in a harsh media city like Boston (I’ll admit it!), the “vibe” around the team was a stark departure from even a few weeks earlier. You’d have been hard pressed in the beginning of June to find anyone who’d
justify trading future roster pieces for anyone who’d help the team compete, because it was clear the team could not compete.
That obviously all changed with the historic 15-game win streak. By the middle of the month, the team was squarely in “buy” mode, as a deep October run was, with the right pieces, very conceivable.
But we’ve seen this song and dance before. Just 12 calendar months earlier, Craig Breslow had “gotten uncomfortably aggressive” with his fellow front offices. The cynic in me would have loved to be a fly on the wall to see what Craig Breslow would classify as “uncomfortably aggressive,” but alas, the fruits of the deadline ended at Steven Matz and Dustin May. The Red Sox’s season would end at Yankee Stadium, and neither acquisition would be back to begin 2026.
The previous time the Sox had made the playoffs, the team acquired Kyle Schwarber, a deal that looked vastly less impressive after the team failed to acquire his services long-term in the offseason. The other acquisitions in 2021 were Austin Davis and Hansel Robles, which dims the shine of the Schwarber deal even further. The following year, with a playoff spot within reach, the team did a weird half-buy, half-sell stance, dealing longtime catcher Christian Vazquez and Jake Diekman and bringing in Reese McGuire (a notable downgrade behind the dish), Eric Hosmer and Tommy Pham. The team finished accordingly, in the cellar of the division. Point being, calls to win were met hollowly.
Then, at almost midnight three days prior to the 2026 trade deadline, that notion was turned on its ear. Connelly Early, a guy the team had in its rotation prior to some elbow inflammation, a guy on many top 100 prospect lists before the season started, a guy who very much fit the organization’s archetype of big lefty with velocity and bite on his fastball, and, truth be told, a guy who wasn’t pitching too badly (3.44 ERA, 93 strikeouts in 91 2/3 innings) was heading to Washington, a team who played two hour drive north of his Virginia hometown and a team fighting for a playoff spot in their (much more competitive) league. The return for this guy? Australian infielder Curtis Mead.
It seemed absurd at first glance. Until, that is, one remembered that Curtis Mead, after some early struggles (putting this lightly) in his career, had been hitting out of his mind with the Nationals to start 2026. He had 17 home runs and a .852 OPS. He had struggled with being patient at the plate but was getting better, and already didn’t strike out much. His arm strength is lower than average, but he had experience playing second base, which was a position of need for this team. If that didn’t pan out, there were a few different permutations the team could try out, which isn’t ideal for a team also in the middle of a playoff chase, but having everyday players to field who are plus bats is a good problem to have. Simply put, at the time, Early was 1) injured and 2) at a surplus, and Mead was 1) performing at a level where the team could be as “aggressive” as they’ve prided themselves on being to win baseball games and 2) played a position, maybe even two, of need.
Fast forward two nights. Sacramento against the Athletics, 9:40 first pitch for us over on the east coast. Curtis Mead is in the lineup. He’s batting second. He’s playing second. The team looked to have an everyday player. He even drew a walk in his first at-bat. Enter the fourth inning. Mead against Jack Perkins. Perkins, a player who has a noted lack of command in his short career, lost control of his fastball, and Mead took it just shy of 95 miles per hour to the wrist. His bat flew away in reaction and Mead took his base. It was a scary moment, but it was also assuring to see Mead not exit immediately. The lurking cynic, though, wondered if this could be the start of a recurring issue. An inning later, Mead clearly looked uncomfortable in the field, and he exited the game. Initial imaging showed no fracture, but an MRI showed that Mead’s wrist, was, in fact broken. Mead went on the 10-day IL, but it was a foregone fact that he’d be gone for most of the rest of the season.
Make no mistake: this injury put the Red Sox at a new crossroads of the season and gave a Craig Breslow an even bolder challenge to put his money where his mouth was than the one he had accepted just three days earlier. He couldn’t throw his hands on and say “aw, shucks, we tried!” as the team was still in contention, and now, he didn’t have the luxury of using a surplus chip of an extra young rotation piece. He would have to get creative, and fast. It was, to be fair to Breslow, absolutely a raw deal. But how he reacted, and how the team gelled from that moment, could likely define the future of the season.
The Red Sox would upgrade their catcher position by trading for Adley Rutschman (and Jake Rogers) in exchange for Carlos Narvaez and a plethora of budding prospects. They’d also grab Erik Miller by dealing another injured everyday player in Marcelo Mayer, and would bring Eli White into the fold, a move I was convinced at the time would spell the end of Jarren Duran’s time with the organization, but Duran punched at his class to finish 2026. Breslow, though some debate on the effectiveness of deals lingered after a second consecutive postseason run would end at the hands of the Yankees, put a clear “bought” symbol next to his organization for the first time in almost a decade.
And it’s easy to imagine that at least some of this influence between throwing caution to the wind on the Rutschman deal especially was because of this perceived – and very tangible – urgency.
As with most moves the Red Sox have made in the last year or so, this move will effect them not just for this year, but for some time after. The myriad ways that sentence can be construed is intentional. It will, in Boston fashion, be evaluated with every gem Early pitches (and there will be plenty) and it will be maligned with every errant throw Mead makes over the course of the next five years. Because, yes, Mead is under team control until 2031. These transactions also don’t exist in a vacuum, and so it’s entirely possible that this deal will benefit both teams in the long run, just as the teams simply not ever picking their phones up might have, as well. It’s natural to think of what would have been, and just as natural to say that this trade was of little consequence in 2026, and that goes for either team, as Early made exactly one appearance with his new team following coming off of that injury. But the move, at the time, was absolutely of high consequence for Craig Breslow and his future with the Boston Red Sox.
