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MASATAKA YOSHIDA DOES NOT want to be the American League Rookie of the Year, and his reasoning is simple: He doesn’t view himself as a rookie.

The Boston Red Sox outfielder spent the first seven years of his professional baseball career in Japan, where he was a Japan Series champion and a four-time NPB All-Star, plus the winner of two Pacific League batting titles and five Pacific League Best Nine Awards. All that, plus his recent World Baseball Classic title, make him feel overqualified for MLB rookie honors, even if he’s a leading contender in Las Vegas.

“I am a little bit older,” Yoshida, 29, said through interpreter Kei Wakabayashi.

When Yoshida signed a five-year, $90 million contract with the Red Sox this past offseason, many around baseball questioned the value of the contract, with one executive telling ESPN’s Kiley McDaniel that Yoshida was worth less than half of what Boston paid. There was skepticism Yoshida could adjust to MLB velocity, that the slugger would be reduced to a slap hitter in America, despite this year’s Japanese World Baseball Classic team throwing more 100 mph-plus pitches than any other team in the tournament.

While Japanese pitchers — such as Shohei Ohtani, Yu Darvish and Masahiro Tanaka — have a track record of success transitioning to the major leagues, Japanese hitters do not. While Ohtani, Ichiro Suzuki and Hideki Matsui stand out as exceptions, the list of NPB hitters who failed to make an impact — from Kosuke Fukudome to Kaz Matsui to Yoshi Tsutsugo — outnumber the success stories.

The Red Sox offered him one of the biggest contracts of chief baseball officer Chaim Bloom’s four-year tenure anyway, confident Yoshida could adjust to MLB pitching.

“It was part of our due diligence process, trying to poke as many holes in his offensive game as we could,” Bloom said. “The conversation about velocity was more narrative than reality.”

So far, they’ve been proved right. After Yoshida struggled through the season’s first two weeks, he quickly adjusted to become one of the team’s most consistent hitters. Through 61 games, Yoshida is hitting .309/.383/.479 with seven homers, 17 doubles and 36 RBIs.

Of the 19 Japanese hitters to make the transition to the majors, only six have posted a career OPS above league average. Yoshida’s 131 OPS+, albeit in a small sample, is the second highest ever, trailing only Ohtani.

And the criticism that vice president of scouting development and integration Gus Quattlebaum — who scouted Yoshida in Japan — expected has largely died down.

“We knew this would not be conventional and there would be backlash,” Quattlebaum said. “He was always one of our top targets in our mind.”


“HARPER-SAN! Harper-san! Harper-san!”

When longtime major league outfielder Adam Jones arrived in Japan to play for the Orix Buffaloes in 2020, it didn’t take long for him to find out which one of his teammates was being hailed by a familiar baseball surname. It was Yoshida, a Bryce Harper superfan who named his French bulldog after the Philadelphia Phillies slugger and included the initials “BH” in his Instagram username. And as soon as Jones started hitting in the same batting practice group as Yoshida, he started to envision a bright future for him someday in the United States.

“I just knew this guy was going to the major leagues,” said Jones, who now hosts a podcast for The Baltimore Banner and lives with his family in Barcelona, Spain. “You can just tell by his presence, his attitude, his approach. You could tell by how many questions he asked every time a major league game was on.”

Those questions: What did the ball look like coming out of CC Sabathia’s hand? How did it feel to face Clayton Kershaw? What was it like to experience major league velocity from guys like Max Scherzer? Jones explained to Yoshida how the culture of Major League Baseball differed from the NPB, how many pitchers attacked the zone versus trying to locate on its periphery. While walking past the batting cages, Jones would often see Yoshida facing high-velocity pitches, as he would in the majors. Yoshida would watch videos of Jones earlier in his career and come back with questions about specific at-bats.

“Everyone wants to watch Mike Trout, but he was watching every hitter, every pitcher,” Jones said.

All of that work meant Yoshida was prepared when the Red Sox scouts arrived. When Quattlebaum made his first trip to Japan to see Yoshida in person in September 2021, he brought with him the team’s manager of baseball analytics, Dan Meyer. Meyer was tasked with putting together a statistics model to project Yoshida’s performance in MLB. While watching Yoshida play for the Buffaloes, the speed of the fastballs impressed Meyer.

“It was way more than he was expecting,” Quattlebaum said.

Meyer wasn’t the only one to notice this. Dating to 2019, the Red Sox had been scouting Yoshida — mostly through video because of COVID pandemic travel restrictions. Several members of the front office had found the conventional wisdom that the NPB couldn’t stack up to MLB’s velocity to be flawed.

They saw that the gap between Japanese and MLB velocity is shrinking. In 2014, the average NPB fastball sat around 88 mph, while MLB clocked in at a tick under 92. In 2022, according to FanGraphs, the average NPB fastball was 90.8 mph, while MLB’s was 93.6. In the World Baseball Classic, Team Japan averaged the third-highest velocity (94.9 mph) of any staff, behind only Venezuela and the Dominican Republic.

Jones acknowledges a difference between facing pitchers in Japan versus the United States — particularly against left-handers, who throw harder in MLB. But, Jones says, the evolution of pitching in Japan — plus modern technology — has hitters better prepared.

“You can work on velocity no matter where you are and you don’t have to necessarily face it all the time from a pitcher,” Jones said. “Japanese pitchers are throwing harder as a group and as a league. With technology and with video, you can simulate all of it.”

While there’s a wider range of pitching talent in Japan, the variance in pitching styles also can help a team better scout hitters. Red Sox hitting coach Peter Fatse spent parts of the past three years watching tape of Yoshida, and he could tell the lefty had a fundamentally sound swing, regardless of who he was facing. Yoshida’s swing looked the same against a pitcher who maxed out in the high 80s or threw fireballs that exceeded 100 mph.

“[Yoshida] covered such a wide range and spectrum of pitchers,” Fatse said. “Whether it was a breaking ball, a splitter, his mechanics never really broke down. It told me he didn’t have to cheat to create space and cut the distance between the bat and the ball. It made my eyes light up.”

When Yoshida first arrived at the Red Sox’s spring training camp in February, Boston set him up with a Traject pitching machine, which replicates the exact speed, spin and trajectory of any pitcher in the majors. While the coaching staff wanted to ease Yoshida into higher velocity pitching by starting at 88 mph, the outfielder immediately wanted to crank things up.

And so the coaching staff turned the settings to replicate Ohtani.

“It was immediately a laser to left, laser up the middle,” Quattlebaum said. “That was why we signed him.”


WHEN YOSHIDA GOT to spring training, he immediately opened the eyes of his teammates, but not just because of his bat.

“My honest first impression was that he was smaller than I thought he was,” said Red Sox designated hitter Justin Turner.

While Yoshida is listed at 5-foot-8, his height more closely skews toward 5-6, with his cleats adding an inch. His stature only added excitement once he stepped into the batter’s box, driving balls to all fields during batting practice.

Even before his first MLB at-bat, Yoshida had begun to silence critics. During the World Baseball Classic, he displayed his keen sense of the strike zone and his high-octane bat, knocking in 13 runs — a WBC tournament record — including a game-tying three-run homer in the seventh inning of the semifinal round against Mexico, setting Japan up for its championship matchup against the United States.

“You see him go play in the World Baseball Classic and you’re like, man this guy just hits,” Turner said. “The ball jumps off his bat, hits the ball hard, all parts of the field. He hits fastballs, splits, curveballs, doesn’t matter. It’s just consistency. Every at-bat is a good at-bat.”

While Yoshida hit just .167/.310/.250 with one homer through his first 13 MLB games, he’s tallied a .346/.404/.537 batting line in the 48 games since. And his transition has extended beyond adjusting to MLB velocity. While grabbing dinner with Cora in May, Yoshida and the skipper broke down the differences in the styles of baseball, everything from the rising velocity in the NPB — where seeing 99 mph is no longer an anomaly — to the use of the splitters instead of changeups. But one observation from Yoshida surprised Cora.

“The tempo of the pitchers there, there’s more slide steps and the windups are quicker, so you have to be on time there,” Cora said. “Here, you have more time to gather, to see it and go. I found that very intriguing. I had never thought about it. He has way more time to get back, land and then go.”

The Red Sox have also made a consistent effort to make Yoshida feel welcome. With the Buffaloes, Yoshida earned the nickname “Macho Man” after he chose the Village People song as his walk-up. After the team made a ballpark video of him curling dumbbells set to the tune, the moniker stuck — and led to a signature home run celebration, lifting inflatable dumbbells When manager Alex Cora learned of the celebration, he ordered a set of inflatable dumbbells to Boston featuring the team’s logo, Yoshida’s name and his number.

Despite that, Yoshida admits the transition off the field is weighing on him. His wife, Yurika, and their two daughters — a 2-year-old and a 1-year-old — have not yet visited him in the United States, and the language barrier continues to be a struggle. He’s working on improving through English classes and spending time with his teammates. He’s still searching for a favorite Japanese restaurant in Boston, but spends a lot of time with Wakabayashi trying out places around the city. There are those with a similar experience willing to help, too. Daisuke Matsuzaka — who came from Japan to pitch eight years in the majors, most of them with the Red Sox, and still lives in the Boston area — has reached out.

“I haven’t gotten any specific advice yet,” Yoshida said. “He told me whatever you want to ask, let me know.”

He has already accomplished some dreams. Before the Red Sox faced off against the Phillies in May, Yoshida met Harper, who gave him a signed game-used bat from last year’s National League Championship Series with the inscription, “To Masataka, MVP2X, GU: NLCS bat” in addition to another painted bat featuring a caricature of Harper’s face and a pair of signed green cleats.

“Obviously, that’s going to be my treasure,” Yoshida said at the time about his Harper memorabilia.

And while Yoshida has made it through the first 2½ months as a Rookie of the Year favorite, Jones has no doubt he will be a big factor in Boston’s lineup for years to come. Jones has seen the hours Yoshida spends working on hitting high velocity, asking about facing MLB pitchers, all building toward this exact opportunity.

“He’s a perfectionist,” Jones said. “He’s the Japanese Juan Soto, making every adjustment that he needs. All of it is possible because he wants to be that good — and he is that good.”

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After suffering a catastrophic injury, can UNC quarterback Max Johnson get his career back on track?

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After suffering a catastrophic injury, can UNC quarterback Max Johnson get his career back on track?

CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — Max Johnson seethed as he stared at the clock on the wall in his hospital room. He could not move his right leg, bandaged from hip to foot after surgery to fix a broken femur. He smelled like days-old sweat. Though his foot felt numb, the pain up and down his leg sometimes brought him to tears.

He always had been a guy who relied on his faith, but this injury was testing him. Johnson had transferred to North Carolina for what he thought would be a fifth and final college season. He’d hoped for a relatively straightforward time in Chapel Hill: a solid year that would lead him seamlessly into the NFL, just like Drake Maye and Sam Howell — the quarterbacks who preceded him at UNC.

Instead, three quarters into the opener at Minnesota in 2024, Johnson had been carted off the field while he held his bones in place. He could not get past all the questions swirling in his head as he listened to the second hand on the clock tick.

Why me?

Tick.

Why now?

Tick.

What next?

Tick.

Every second in that bed meant no football, and no football meant no NFL, the only dream he’d ever had. Even as he laid there, having suffered an injury on the football field most commonly seen after high-speed car wrecks, the draft was a first-level concern. That was nothing new. Max’s dad, former NFL quarterback Brad Johnson, remembers driving a young Max and two friends when they started talking about what they wanted to be as grown-ups.

Max turned to his friends and said, “I’m No. 14. I’m going to be like my dad.”

So, despite the anger, frustration and disappointment, despite the months of excruciating surgeries and rehab ahead of him, he knew, in that hospital bed, that his dreams had not changed. He was no quitter.


NEVER QUITTING IS part of the Johnson family mythology. Brad began his college career as a third-string quarterback at Florida State before working his way up the depth chart to start. The Vikings drafted him in the ninth round in 1992. Again, he was buried on the depth chart. But he played 17 seasons in the NFL and won a Super Bowl with Tampa Bay. There is a photo from the postgame celebration: Johnson has his back to the camera, holding his 18-month-old son. Max looks into the camera, a slight smile forming, as a crowd envelops them.

Everybody in the family is athletic and competitive. Nikki Johnson, Max’s mom, played volleyball at South Florida and set school records for kills, digs and hitting percentage. Her sister also played volleyball, and her brother, Mark Richt, played quarterback at Miami before eventually coaching at Georgia and Miami.

Max has always held onto hope. Brad tells a story to that point. Max was in sixth grade; Brad was his coach. They were down 16 points with 12 seconds to go. Brad was ready to run out the clock, but Max would not have it.

“I swear he yelled at me because the game wasn’t over,” Brad says. “He’s that kid that believes the game is not over until the clock hits double zero.”

Max grew into an elite quarterback prospect in the class of 2020, signing with LSU out of high school. He played in six games as a true freshman and made two starts, then started all 12 games in 2021. But then-coach Ed Orgeron was fired, and Johnson transferred to Texas A&M to play for then-coach Jimbo Fisher. But multiple injuries marred his two seasons with the Aggies, and Fisher was fired there, too, leaving Johnson with another decision after the 2023 season. North Carolina under then-coach Mack Brown seemed the best choice for him to get to the NFL.

“I think it was really big for me to watch Sam and Drake over the last few years under Coach Brown light it up, make plays with their legs, and I feel like that could do that,” Max Johnson says. “I wanted to play one year and go pro. That was my plan.

“Then the injury happened.”


THIRD-AND-10 FROM THE North Carolina 33, late third quarter. North Carolina trails Minnesota 14-10. Johnson drops back to throw a backside curl route. As he releases the ball, Minnesota cornerback Justin Walley hits him on a blitz and starts to take him down to the ground. As Johnson begins to land awkwardly on his right leg, pinned under Walley, Darnell Jefferies hits him high.

Johnson says he remembers being on the ground, staring at the dark night sky. He felt indescribable pain. It was hard to breathe. Then and there, he knew his season was over. He said he believed he had torn a knee ligament.

Frustration and anger set in. Trainers asked if he could get up. Johnson said no. When they picked him up to assist him off the field, Johnson felt his femur shift out of place and his foot dangle. He knew then his leg was broken.

Johnson made it to the sideline, but the pain was too intense to make it to the locker room. The cart came out, and all Johnson remembers is the pain. Teammates came over to give him words of encouragement. His brother, Jake, a tight end on the team, told Max he loved him.

As he made his way off the field, Johnson thought about giving a thumbs-up to show he was OK. But he was not OK. Brad and Nikki, watching from the stands, had no idea how badly Max was hurt. But they knew something was terribly wrong when the cart came out and they began to make their way down to the tunnel to find him.

Trainers tried to put on an air cast, but the pain was too intense. They gave Johnson morphine, but he still felt pain every time the broken bone shifted inside his leg, a sensation Johnson described as “flopping back and forth.” The ride to the hospital was horrible, every bump more painful than the last.

Once he arrived, he was placed on a hospital bed. He couldn’t help but ask for the score of the game. Backup Conner Harrell had led North Carolina to a 19-17 victory.

The doctors told Johnson, still in his football gear, that they needed to take him back for an X-ray. They cut off his uniform, pads and all. Johnson sat there in his underwear, sweaty and bloody, crying, in a daze.

The X-ray confirmed the broken leg. He also had to hold his bones in place during that process. You can see his right hand in the image, holding just underneath the bone.

By this time, his parents had arrived at the hospital from the game. UNC trainer David Mincberg was there as well. Jake also asked to go to the hospital, but his parents told him it would be best to go back with the team to Chapel Hill.

Because it was so late in the evening, Johnson would have to wait until morning for surgery. To help keep the bone in place through the night, Johnson had a hole drilled through his tibia, where doctors inserted a string and attached a five-pound weight, which hung off the side of the bed. Max’s parents and Mincberg slept in chairs in his room, refusing to leave him alone.

Dr. David Templeman, who performed the surgery at Hennepin County Medical Center, said he had never seen an in-game injury like that to an athlete. During surgery, Templeman inserted a metal rod that ran from Johnson’s hip to his knee to stabilize the injury.

After the surgery, Johnson realized his leg felt numb and started to panic. Doctors came in and started touching his feet. Johnson saw their demeanors shift from mild concern to outright worry. The initial operation had caused pressure to build up in his leg, a problem that sometimes occurs after surgery. Johnson feared amputation was a possibility, but Templeman says his team was able to react quickly enough to avoid that scenario.

To ease the pressure that had built up, doctors placed a wound vacuum in Johnson’s leg to help reduce swelling. Johnson would undergo other surgeries — he’d have five in total — to close the wound once the pressure eased. But he also had to get up and start walking to not only avoid blood clots but to start restoring the function of his leg.

Johnson initially needed multiple people to help him out of bed. His mom held the vacuum attached to his leg while Johnson held onto a walker. He took 12 steps, turned around and took 12 steps back.

“I was absolutely gassed. The most tired I’ve ever been in my life,” he said.

Johnson had already lost weight, and his hemoglobin levels had deteriorated so much that he needed a blood transfusion. Templeman told him it could take months to a year for full feeling to return in his foot. Johnson hated it when anyone touched his feet, but that was about to change.

“I’m not kidding you. I must have touched that kid’s foot 1,000 times,” Nikki Johnson said. “I know this is not scientific, but I will stick by this: Touching it and moving it and rubbing it helped those nerves regenerate. I believe there was some supernatural healing there. Maybe that’s just what I want to believe. But the doctors were amazed that his feeling and function came back so quickly.”

Max stayed in the hospital nine days. Despite the ordeal, the Johnsons asked repeatedly whether he could play football again. Templeman said, “Hopefully.” The Johnsons said they were given a recovery timeline of six months to a year.

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Nikki said.

Johnson knew injuries like this were exceedingly rare in football players, and only a handful had ever come back to play. So, obviously, he gave himself just six months to make it back.


AFTER LEAVING THE hospital, Johnson stayed in Minneapolis until doctors cleared him for air travel back to Chapel Hill. The family stayed with Brad’s friends from his time with the Vikings.

Max had yet to shower since the injury. But the shower was up the stairs, and he could not bend his bandaged leg. Max broke into a cold sweat debating whether to attempt the stairs or not. He begged his parents to help him. They relented.

He was able to make it up four steps before taking a break. Then he went up another four steps before stopping for another break. It went like this until he made it to the top … an hour and a half later. Max was wiped out.

When he finally got into the shower, he sat in a chair, his leg wrapped and sticking out the open shower door. He sat for 15 minutes, water finally washing him clean. “One of the best feelings in my life,” he says.

When he was done, he realized he now had to make his way down the stairs. It was easier to get down but still took time and an enormous amount of effort. Max needed help to do everything, from using the restroom to getting dressed and undressed every day. He felt like a child again.

Mincberg stayed the entire time, often doing shopping runs to stock up on clothes, food and other necessities for the four of them. His parents took care of him day after day, without hesitation. “They became my best friends,” Max says.

The following Saturday, he put on the UNC game against Charlotte and tried to figure out the offensive game plan just to keep his mind occupied. On Sept. 11, Johnson saw Templeman for a follow-up appointment and was cleared to return home. UNC sent a charter plane to bring Johnson, his parents and Mincberg back to Chapel Hill.


MAX GOT BACK to the apartment he shared with Jake. His parents rented one in Chapel Hill to continue to help. Nikki, Brad and Jake did whatever Max needed — from cooking to cleaning to helping him get from one appointment to the next.

Max could not drive, nor could he attend class in person because he was unable to sit in chairs. He also remained away from the team. The first few weeks home were a slog. He had trouble sleeping and would get about only two hours at a time. Sometimes he would stay awake all night.

He remembers one day he wanted to try to work out in the gym in his apartment complex, just to feel active again. He used his crutches to make it there. He picked up seven-pound weights and did curls to an overhead shoulder press. After 15 minutes, he was exhausted. It took him 25 minutes to get back to his apartment.

He still felt angry and frustrated, unable to play the sport that made him feel complete. The doubts about his future were there constantly. Max relishes his ability to run, because most people assume he’s slow. He ran a 4.6 in the 40-yard dash. Would he ever gain back that speed? And even if he did, it was a near certainty he would face another quarterback competition, just as he had every other year he spent in college.

In late September, he took out his journal and started writing, letting go of his anger. He realized the injury gave him time to slow down, rethink his values and remember why he plays. He grew stronger in his faith and his conviction he would play again.

The mindset shift did not lessen the reality of his situation. Even if Max made it all the way back to the football field, there still might not be an NFL future. He pressed on nonetheless.

Eventually, he was able to go to one team meeting a week, where he had a special chair that allowed him to sit. He used FaceTime whenever he could. In October, Brad drove Max to one of his rehab appointments. He waited in the car for Max to finish and fell asleep, but then awoke to a knock on the window.

“Dad! I can walk!”

Brad got out of the car. Max took eight steps without his crutches. They cried.

Part of his initial rehab was simply focusing on bending his leg and perfecting his walking form. Max would stare at himself in the mirror, his right leg thinned out compared to his left. He had to work on making sure he was not putting too much pressure on his left leg to compensate for the injury to his right.

The bone was still broken, so he felt constant pain. But Johnson says to return to football form, he could not wait for the bone to heal completely.

“If you don’t walk on it in a certain amount of time, then the bone will never really heal back to where you want it to be,” Johnson says.

Eventually, Johnson started walking on an underwater treadmill. Around Thanksgiving, he transitioned from walking to slowly running on the same machine. There would be more challenges ahead. Brown was fired as coach before the final game of the regular season. Johnson faced the prospect of playing for a fourth head coach and sixth offensive coordinator, without knowing whether he would be healthy enough to compete for a starting job in 2025. Uncertainty filled the first weeks of December.

But Johnson remained adamant he wanted to play a sixth season, and that he wanted to stay at North Carolina.


IF YOU HAD told Max Johnson in high school that he would play for three coaches who won a national championship and one who won six Super Bowls, there is no way he would have believed you.

Transferring for a third time after the coaching change never entered his mind. The thought of playing for the coach who was with Tom Brady in New England excited Johnson. The two had an honest conversation about where Johnson stood after Belichick arrived on campus. Asked why he decided to give Johnson a chance, Belichick says simply, “Why not?”

The truth is, Belichick owes Johnson nothing. Coaches taking over programs flip rosters to fit their needs. The current Tar Heels roster features more than 40 transfers and 17 true freshmen, including ESPN300 quarterback Bryce Baker. Though Johnson was injured, he had been playing college ball for longer than every other player in the quarterbacks room and could provide valuable knowledge and steady leadership as he worked to return.

The rehab was going slower than Johnson had hoped. Initially, he wanted to be ready in time for spring football in March. But he was not fully healed and could not run and cut the way he needed to.

North Carolina had a decision to make once spring practice wrapped in April. Given the uncertainty around Johnson and the departure of quarterback Ryan Browne to Purdue, North Carolina signed quarterback Gio Lopez from South Alabama. Johnson says he understood.

“I get it. You have to go in the portal,” Johnson says. “I didn’t know if I was going to be ready. They didn’t know. They asked me those questions. I’m telling them I’m going to be ready, because I know myself. But it’s tough from their point of view because it’s like, ‘OK, we’ve got to make a business decision.'”

Johnson welcomed Lopez without reservation, helping him get up to speed with the offense.

“I transfer in, we’re both competing for the spot, and people paint this narrative like they must not like each other. Me and Max are actually great friends,” Lopez said. “He’s been super helpful with the offense. There’s no second agenda with him, where he’s trying to throw me off. He’s been great.”

Johnson worked every day, three hours a day, not only with his physical therapy but other forms of rehab, from scar tissue massage to electric stimulation.

“He never took a day off,” Jake says. “I know having a career in the NFL is his dream, and he’s not going to let [anything] stop him.”

Finally, several weeks after spring practice ended, Max was able to fully drop back with no pain. Max says that moment was “probably one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt.”

Johnson says his leg is fully healed and he is “ready to roll” for fall camp. He says he did every run and every lift with the team this summer and feels as good as he did last year. Templeman and the staff at the hospital have been amazed by his progress.

“Out of all the people I’ve taken care of in my career, he’s probably in the 100th percentile for [getting] healthy,” Templeman said. “It’s exceptional even within the realm of being an athlete.”

Now that fall camp has started, Johnson says the coaching staff told him he would be given a fair shot to win the starting job. Whether he does remains to be seen as the season opener against TCU on Labor Day inches closer.

“It’s not us picking them, it’ll be that player earning it — then we’ll decide on that,” Belichick said the day fall practice began. “If it’s clear-cut, then that player will be the player. If it’s not clear-cut, maybe the competition will continue into the early part of the season.”

Asked what he hopes for this season, Johnson says, “I want to play.”


MAX STILL KEEPS the white No. 14 Carolina jersey he wore in the opener last year, cut down the middle, as a reminder not only of how far he has come, but how much putting that jersey on means to him. There might be those who wonder why he would put himself through the agony of nearly a year of rehab without any guarantee that he would play again. Johnson has a quick retort: Nothing in life is guaranteed, so why not spend each day doing what you love?

“When it’s in you and something that you enjoy, you can’t listen to the noise of what someone else thinks,” Brad says. “It has to be your passion, your dream. You have to look back on your story and have no regrets. The chance for him to have the ball in his hands, the feeling of calling the play in the huddle, the feeling of the game, it matters.”

For now, Max is not listed among the quarterbacks to watch for the 2026 NFL draft. ESPN NFL draft analyst Jordan Reid said there’s a “wait-and-see approach,” not only because of the injury but because it’s not known yet how much he will play.

But Max sees his dad as the perfect example — someone who overcame his own roller-coaster college career to not only make it in the NFL but persevere and find a way to win at the highest level.

“I want to play football,” Max says. “That’s what I want to do. I’ll never give up.”

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D-backs’ DeSclafani to IL after turn as starter

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D-backs' DeSclafani to IL after turn as starter

ARLINGTON, Texas — The Arizona Diamondbacks placed right-hander Anthony DeSclafani on the 15-day injured list Wednesday because of right thumb inflammation after he made three starts.

DeSclafani (1-2, 4.36 ERA) has been primarily a reliever for the Diamondbacks but made the starts this month after Merrill Kelly was traded to the Texas Rangers at the deadline on July 31.

Arizona made the move with DeSclafani before the series finale at Texas, when Kelly was starting for the Rangers. The Diamondbacks recalled right-hander Casey Kelly from Triple-A Reno.

“We’re hoping for the minimal time. He’s going to get some imaging just to make sure that everything’s OK,” manager Torey Lovullo said. “This is something that popped up a couple days ago. We all felt that he was going to be able to take the baseball and go out there and compete, which he did. We saw the stuff in the first couple of innings, and we decided it was time to take him off the field.”

In the three starts this month, DeSclafani is 0-1 with a 5.59 ERA, allowing six runs in 9⅔ innings. He threw three innings Tuesday night, allowing two runs in a game Arizona won 3-2 on a homer by Ketel Marte in the ninth.

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Twins no longer for sale; owners eye investors

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Twins no longer for sale; owners eye investors

MINNEAPOLIS — The Minnesota Twins are no longer for sale, executive chair Joe Pohlad announced Wednesday on behalf of his family.

After exploring a variety of options over the past 10 months, the Pohlad family will remain the principal owner of the club and add new investors instead. Carl Pohlad, a banking magnate and the late grandfather of Joe Pohlad, purchased the Twins in 1984 for $44 million.

“For more than four decades, our family has had the privilege of owning the Minnesota Twins. This franchise has become part of our family story, as it has for our employees, our players, this community, and Twins fans everywhere,” Joe Pohlad said in his announcement. “Over the past several months, we explored a wide range of potential investment and ownership opportunities. Our focus throughout has been on what’s best for the long-term future of the Twins. We have been fully open to all possibilities.”

Pohlad said the family was in the process of adding two “significant” limited partnership groups to bring in fresh ideas, bolster critical partnerships and shape the long-term vision of the franchise that relocated to Minnesota in 1961 after originating as the Washington Senators. Details about the new investors will be kept private until Major League Baseball approves of the transactions, Pohlad said.

The Twins are on track for their lowest attendance total in 16 seasons at Target Field, and an ownership-mandated payroll reduction last year, among other factors, has contributed to a dissatisfied customer base. The Twins traded 10 players off their roster leading up to the July 31 deadline, furthering the frustration. Word that the Pohlads are staying put certainly won’t help the morale of Minnesota baseball fans, who’ve been waiting for another World Series title since 1991.

“We see and hear the passion from our partners, the community, and Twins fans. That passion inspires us,” Pohlad said. “This ownership group is committed to building a winning team and culture for this region, one that Twins fans are proud to cheer for.”

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