Alabama receivers aren’t creating enough separation, the offensive line is allowing too much pressure in the backfield, getting a snap from center has turned into an adventure rather than a formality, the running game is inconsistent at best, players across the board are committing too many penalties and the offense as a whole doesn’t appear to have a sense of identity or direction.
Now Alabama finds itself outside the top 10 of The Associated Press’ poll for the first time in eight years. With the Crimson Tide absent from the playoff conversation, hope seems a long way off. Whether that remains true for the rest of the season is anyone’s guess.
And while it’s unfair to pin all the blame on the quarterbacks (see above), a critical eye has to start there. It’s the most important position on the field and the sharp decline has been startling. Alabama is a program that passed its QB baton from Jalen Hurts to Tua Tagovailoa to Mac Jones to Bryce Young. Depending on how you count Hurts’ time at Oklahoma, you’re talking about one or two Heisman Trophy winners and two Heisman finalists.
Coaches around the SEC last season said privately Young was covering up a lot of Alabama’s flaws, including the mediocre play on the line and at receiver that continues today, but no one thought to look further down the depth chart at what would be missing once he left. To go from four consecutive future NFL starting quarterbacks to the rotation of backups we saw Saturday against South Florida boggles the mind.
Jalen Milroe, Young’s former backup who began the season as the starter and was benched after throwing two interceptions in a loss to Texas, didn’t take a single snap in Tampa. Tyler Buchner, the late addition from Notre Dame, got the start and completed 5 of 14 passes for 34 yards before he was pulled. His replacement, redshirt freshman Ty Simpson, wasn’t much better, running for a 1-yard touchdown and completing 5 of 9 pass attempts for 73 yards.
Against an unranked opponent it was favored to beat by five touchdowns, against a team that had given up 41 points to Western Kentucky in the season opener, Alabama had to grind out a 17-3 win that ranked among the ugliest of coach Nick Saban’s 16-year tenure. Buchner and Simpson posted an 18.5 QBR in the game, the fourth lowest in 224 games under Saban and the lowest since 2009 against South Carolina.
Forget the five sacks, the 13 incompletions and that paltry QBR. Forget all those penalties that wiped points off the board. The video of a rain-soaked Saban leaving the field during a lightning delay told the story of a frustrating day.
Afterward, Saban was noncommittal about next steps.
But Monday, he seemed to have made up his mind.
“This is all I’m going to say about this,” Saban said. “Jalen really showed the leadership I was looking for in terms of supporting his teammates.”
Milroe, he added, “has earned the opportunity to be the quarterback.”
But if Milroe has another performance like the one against Texas — where he telegraphed his passes and threw a pair of back-breaking interceptions — will Saban stick with him? Saban craves consistency from his quarterbacks and values the ability to take care of the football seemingly above all else. Old school, he’s said on more than one occasion that if a drive ends in a kick, whether it’s a field goal or a punt, that’s fine by him.
So pay attention because the drama might not be over yet.
But before asking where Saban and Alabama go from here, you have to ask how they got here in the first place. How is it that no one was ready to replace Young after he left school as the No. 1 overall draft pick? How did it fall to Milroe, Buchner and Simpson? How did it get to the point that the break in case of emergency option — true freshman Dylan Lonergan — might have his number called before he’s ready?
The answer is complicated. Some sources close to the program say it’s as simple as the program’s good luck finally running out. The Hurts-Tagovailoa-Jones-Young run was unprecedented for a reason, they say. But other, more cynical sources, question the recruiting and development at the position the last two-plus years.
Milroe might not have been Alabama’s pick in the 2021 class had Drake Maye not decommitted in March 2020, opting instead to sign at North Carolina. Fast-forward to the end of last season and Alabama was back sniffing around Maye, according to multiple sources, in the event that he entered the transfer portal, which he didn’t.
By the time it became clear neither Milroe nor Simpson had separated themselves — after going through all of spring practice — Alabama was too late to find a top quarterback in the transfer portal. Sam Hartman had already gone to Notre Dame and Brennan Armstrong had already gone to NC State. The rest of the SEC had already cleaned up with Kentucky signing Devin Leary, who broke Philip Rivers’ single-season school record for touchdowns at NC State, and Ole Miss signing Spencer Sanders, an All Big-12 pick at Oklahoma State, and Walker Howard, a former five-star who spent his freshman year at LSU.
The rumor mill briefly connected Alabama and Miami’s Tyler Van Dyke in April; the speculation was so rampant that the Canes’ official X account posted a not-so-subtle message affirming Van Dyke’s commitment to the program. When the music stopped and the portal quit spinning, it was Buchner, who would have been Hartman’s backup, that became the best option remaining. And even then, Buchner was brought in not with the expectation that he’d be a slam-dunk starter but rather as someone who could compete and push Milroe and Simpson.
Maybe he did that. Maybe he didn’t. But Simpson started the season third on the depth chart for a reason and Milroe, despite being the starter the first two games, didn’t show noticeable improvement in his first real test against Texas. A former SEC coach said Milroe simply isn’t skilled enough in the short-to-intermediate passing game, which is what Alabama needs to keep defenses honest.
A Power 5 defensive coordinator said Milroe was essentially the same player he watched on film from a year ago: “Big play or nothing.” But in Milroe’s defense, he’s had to deal with a not insignificant amount of turnover during his time at Alabama. Former offensive coordinator Steve Sarkisian — a wizard with the run-pass option — recruited him and left to become the head coach at Texas two weeks after he signed his letter of intent. Then, when the opportunity to start finally came this year, the O.C. who coached Milroe the last three seasons, Bill O’Brien, left to join the New England Patriots.
That’s not all. Alex Mortensen, the analyst and behind-the-scenes QB guru who spent nine seasons at Alabama, left in December to join the new staff at UAB. On Monday, Georgia coach Kirby Smart said of Mortensen, “He was at Alabama behind all the offenses — worked with Bill O’Brien, worked with Sark, was there when I was there. I have a lot of respect for Alex.”
Meanwhile, new offensive coordinator Tommy Rees has pulled back some on the RPO game (down 3.1% from 2021-22, down 7.3% from 2019-20) that might suit Milroe’s skill set best.
“He’s in a tough spot, but I do think he’s talented,” Rees said of Milroe. “He throws a great deep ball, can create on his own. He just doesn’t have that ability to make the off-platform throws that Bryce Young did.”
Here’s the thing, though: Alabama doesn’t need any of its quarterbacks to be Bryce Young to have a more effective offense. At this point, it would take another Jake Coker — someone who can manage the game, take the occasional deep shot and limit bad plays. In fact, last week Saban compared the offense’s struggles to what the team went through in 2015 when Coker and Cooper Bateman competed for the starting job through the first three games of the season, including a heart-breaking loss to Ole Miss that prompted some in the media to speculate that Alabama’s dynasty was at its end. Coker won the job, the Tide ran the table and won the national championship.
But that optimistic narrative has one glaring plot hole: This team doesn’t appear to have another Derrick Henry to feed at running back. Henry set an SEC single-season record with 1,986 rushing yards in 2015 and won the Heisman.
With Saban reinserting Milroe into the starting lineup against Ole Miss on Saturday (3:30 p.m. ET, CBS), will he use his speed to field a more run-heavy offense? It’s certainly possible. But can the offensive line support it? And will the receivers hold up their end of the bargain? And will the team stop shooting itself in the foot with penalties and unforced errors?
Picking a lane on offense is a good start to figuring things out, but it’s going to take a lot more than that for Alabama to get back on track and back in the playoff hunt.
Until then, the questions about who should start at quarterback will dominate the conversation and the doubts over the health of Saban’s dynasty won’t end.
BOSTON — The Red Sox activated All-Star third baseman Alex Bregman from the 10-day injured list before Friday’s game against Tampa Bay.
Bregman, who has been sidelined since May 24 with a right quad strain, returned to his customary spot in the field and was slotted in the No. 2 spot of Boston’s lineup for the second of a four-game series against the Rays. He sustained the injury when he rounded first base and felt his quad tighten up.
A two-time World Series winner who spent the first nine seasons of his big league career with the Houston Astros, Bregman signed a $120 million, three-year contract in February. At the time of the injury, he was hitting .299 with 11 homers and 35 RBI. Those numbers led to him being named to the American League’s All-Star team for the third time since breaking into the majors with the Astros in 2016.
Bregman missed 43 games with the quad strain. Earlier this week, he told reporters that he was trending in a direction where he didn’t believe he would require a minor league rehab assignment. With three games left before the All-Star break, the Red Sox agreed the time was right to reinstate a player to a team that entered Friday in possession of one of the AL’s three wild-card berths.
“He’s going to do his part,” Red Sox manager Alex Cora said before Friday’s game. “Obviously, the timing, we’ll see where he’s at, but he’s been working hard on the swing … visualizing and watching video.”
JIM ABBOTT IS sitting at his kitchen table, with his old friend Tim Mead. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, they were partners in an extraordinary exercise — and now, for the first time in decades, they are looking at a stack of letters and photographs from that period of their lives.
The letters are mostly handwritten, by children, from all over the United States and Canada, and beyond.
“Dear Mr. Abbott …”
“I have one hand too. … I don’t know any one with one hand. How do you feel about having one hand? Sometimes I feel sad and sometimes I feel okay about it. Most of the time I feel happy.”
“I am a seventh grader with a leg that is turned inwards. How do you feel about your arm? I would also like to know how you handle your problem? I would like to know, if you don’t mind, what have you been called?”
“I can’t use my right hand and most of my right side is paralyzed. … I want to become a doctor and seeing you makes me think I can be what I want to be.”
For 40 years, Mead worked in communications for the California Angels, eventually becoming vice president of media relations. His position in this department became a job like no other after the Angels drafted Abbott out of the University of Michigan in 1988.
There was a deluge of media requests. Reporters from around the world descended on Anaheim, most hoping to get one-on-one time with the young left-handed pitcher with the scorching fastball. Every Abbott start was a major event — “like the World Series,” Angels scout Bob Fontaine Jr. remembers. Abbott, with his impressive amateur résumé (he won the James E. Sullivan Award for the nation’s best amateur athlete in 1997 and an Olympic gold medal in 1988) and his boyish good looks, had star power.
That spring, he had become only the 16th player to go straight from the draft to the majors without appearing in a single minor league game. And then there was the factor that made him unique. His limb difference, although no one called it that back then. Abbott was born without a right hand, yet had developed into one of the most promising pitchers of his generation. He would go on to play in the majors for ten years, including a stint in the mid ’90s with the Yankees highlighted by a no-hitter in 1993.
Abbott, and Mead, too, knew the media would swarm. That was no surprise. There had been swarms in college, and at the Olympics, wherever and whenever Abbott pitched. Who could resist such an inspirational story? But what they hadn’t anticipated were the letters.
The steady stream of letters. Thousands of letters. So many from kids who, like Abbott, were different. Letters from their parents and grandparents. The kids hoping to connect with someone who reminded them of themselves, the first celebrity they knew of who could understand and appreciate what it was like to be them, someone who had experienced the bullying and the feelings of otherness. The parents and grandparents searching for hope and direction.
“I know you don’t consider yourself limited in what you can do … but you are still an inspiration to my wife and I as parents. Your success helps us when talking to Andy at those times when he’s a little frustrated. I’m able to point to you and assure him there’s no limit to what he can accomplish.”
In his six seasons with the Angels, Abbott was assisted by Mead in the process of organizing his responses to the letters, mailing them, and arranging face-to-face meetings with the families who had written to him. There were scores of such meetings. It was practically a full-time job for both of them.
“Thinking back on these meetings with families — and that’s the way I’d put it, it’s families, not just kids — there was every challenge imaginable,” Abbott, now 57, says. “Some accidents. Some birth defects. Some mental challenges that aren’t always visible to people when you first come across somebody. … They saw something in playing baseball with one hand that related to their own experience. I think the families coming to the ballparks were looking for hopefulness. I think they were looking for what it had been that my parents had told me, what it had been that my coaches had told me. … [With the kids] it was an interaction. It was catch. It was smiling. It was an autograph. It was a picture. With the parents, it ran deeper. With the parents, it was what had your parents said to you? What coaches made a difference? What can we expect? Most of all, I think, what can we expect?”
“It wasn’t asking for autographs,” Mead says of all those letters. “They weren’t asking for pictures. They were asking for his time. He and I had to have a conversation because this was going to be unique. You know, you could set up another player to come down and sign 15 autographs for this group or whatever. But it was people, parents, that had kids, maybe babies, just newborn babies, almost looking for an assurance that this is going to turn out all right, you know. ‘What did your parents do? How did your parents handle this?'”
One of the letters Abbott received came from an 8-year-old girl in Windsor, Ontario.
She wrote, “Dear Jim, My name is Tracey Holgate. I am age 8. I have one hand too. My grandpa gave me a picture of you today. I saw you on TV. I don’t know anyone with one hand. How do you feel about having one hand? Sometimes I feel sad and sometimes I feel okay about it. Most of the time I feel happy. I hope to see you play in Detroit and maybe meet you. Could you please send me a picture of you in uniform? Could you write back please? Here is a picture of me. Love, Tracey.”
Holgate’s letter is one of those that has remained preserved in a folder — and now Abbott is reading it again, at his kitchen table, half a lifetime after receiving it. Time has not diminished the power of the letter, and Abbott is wiping away tears.
Today, Holgate is 44 and goes by her married name, Dupuis. She is married with four children of her own. She is a teacher. When she thinks about the meaning of Jim Abbott in her life, it is about much more than the letter he wrote back to her. Or the autographed picture he sent her. It was Abbott, all those years ago, who made it possible for Tracey to dream.
“There was such a camaraderie there,” she says, “an ability to connect with somebody so far away doing something totally different than my 8-year-old self was doing, but he really allowed me to just feel that connection, to feel that I’m not alone, there’s other people that have differences and have overcome them and been successful and we all have our own crosses, we all have our own things that we’re carrying and it’s important to continue to focus on the gifts that we have, the beauty of it.
“I think sometimes differences, disabilities, all those things can be a gift in a package we would never have wanted, because they allow us to be people that have an empathetic heart, an understanding heart, and to see the pain in the people around us.”
Now, years after Abbott’s career ended, he continues to inspire.
Among those he influenced, there are professional athletes, such as Shaquem Griffin, who in 2018 became the first NFL player with one hand. Griffin, now 29, played three seasons at linebacker for the Seattle Seahawks.
Growing up in Florida, he would watch videos of Abbott pitching and fielding, over and over, on YouTube.
“The only person I really looked up to was Jim Abbott at the time,” Griffin says, “which is crazy, because I didn’t know anybody else to look up to. I didn’t know anybody else who was kind of like me. And it’s funny, because when I was really little, I used to be like, ‘Why me? Why this happen to me?’ And I used to be in my room thinking about that. And I used to think to myself, ‘I wonder if Jim Abbott had that same thought.'”
Carson Pickett was born on Sept. 15, 1993 — 11 days after Abbott’s no-hitter. Missing most of her left arm below the elbow, she became, in 2022, the first player with a limb difference to appear for the U.S. women’s national soccer team.
She, too, says that Abbott made things that others told her were impossible seem attainable.
“I knew I wanted to be a professional soccer player,” says Pickett, who is currently playing for the NWSL’s Orlando Pride. “To be able to see him compete at the highest level it gave me hope, and I think that that kind of helped me throughout my journey. … I think ‘pioneer’ would be the best word for him.”
Longtime professional MMA fighter Nick Newell is 39, old enough to have seen Abbott pitch for the Yankees. In fact, when Newell was a child he met Abbott twice, first at a fan event at the Jacob Javits Center in Manhattan and then on a game day at Yankee Stadium. Newell was one of those kids with a limb difference — like Griffin and Pickett, due to amniotic band syndrome — who idolized Abbott.
“And I didn’t really understand the gravity of what he was doing,” Newell says now, “but for me, I saw someone out there on TV that looked like I did. And I was the only other person I knew that had one hand. And I saw this guy out here playing baseball and it was good to see somebody that looked like me, and I saw him in front of the world.
“He was out there like me and he was just living his life and I think that I owe a lot of my attitude and the success that I have to Jim just going out there and being the example of, ‘Hey, you can do this. Who’s to say you can’t be a professional athlete?’ He’s out there throwing no-hitters against the best baseball players in the world. So, as I got older, ‘Why can’t I wrestle? Why can’t I fight? Why can’t I do this?’ And then it wasn’t until the internet that I heard people tell me I can’t do these things. But by then I had already been doing those things.”
Griffin.
Pickett.
Newell.
Just three of the countless kids who were inspired by Jim Abbott.
When asked if it ever felt like too much, being a role model and a hero, all the letters and face-to-face meetings, Abbott says no — but it wasn’t always easy.
“I had incredible people who helped me send the letters,” he says. “I got a lot more credit sometimes than I deserved for these interactions, to be honest with you. And that happened on every team, particularly with my friend Tim Mead. There was a nice balance to it. There really was. There was a heaviness to it. There’s no denying. There were times I didn’t want to go [to the meetings]. I didn’t want to walk out there. I didn’t want to separate from my teammates. I didn’t want to get up from the card game. I didn’t want to put my book down. I liked where I was at. I was in my environment. I was where I always wanted to be. In a big league clubhouse surrounded by big league teammates. In a big league stadium. And those reminders of being different, I slowly came to realize were never going to go away.”
But being different was the thing that made Abbott more than merely a baseball star. For many people, he has been more than a role model, more than an idol. He is the embodiment of hope and belonging.
“I think more people need to realize and understand the gift of a difference,” Dupuis says. “I think we have to just not box everybody in and allow everybody’s innate light to shine, and for whatever reasons we’ve been created to be here, [let] that light shine in a way that it touches everybody else. Because I think that’s what Jim did. He allowed his light to permeate and that light, in turn, lit all these little children’s lights all over the world, so you have this boom of brightness that’s happening and that’s uncontrollable, that’s beautiful.”
NEW YORK — Chicago Cubs center fielder Pete Crow-Armstrong is projected to receive the largest amount from this season’s $50 million pre-arbitration bonus pool based on his regular-season statistics.
Crow-Armstrong is on track to get $1,091,102, according to WAR calculations through July 8 that Major League Baseball sent to teams, players and agents in a memo Friday that was obtained by The Associated Press.
He earned $342,128 from the pool in 2024.
“I was aware of it after last year, but I have no clue of the numbers,” he said Friday. “I haven’t looked at it one time.”
Crow-Armstrong, Skenes, Wood, Carroll, Brown, De La Cruz and Greene have been picked for Tuesday’s All-Star Game.
A total of 100 players will receive the payments, established as part of the 2022 collective bargaining agreement and aimed to get more money to players without sufficient service time for salary arbitration eligibility. The cutoff for 2025 was 2 years, 132 days of major league service.
Players who signed as foreign professionals are excluded.
Most young players have salaries just above this year’s major league minimum of $760,000. Crow-Armstrong has a $771,000 salary this year, Skenes $875,000, Wood $764,400 and Brown $807,400.
Carroll is in the third season of a $111 million, eight-year contract.
As part of the labor agreement, a management-union committee was established that determined the WAR formula used to allocate the bonuses after awards. (A player may receive only one award bonus per year, the highest one he is eligible for.) The agreement calls for an interim report to be distributed the week before the All-Star Game.
Distribution for awards was $9.85 million last year, down from $11.25 million in 2022 and $9.25 million in 2023.
A player earns $2.5 million for winning an MVP or Cy Young award, $1.75 million for finishing second, $1.5 million for third, $1 million for fourth or fifth or for making the All-MLB first team. A player can get $750,000 for winning Rookie of the Year, $500,000 for second or for making the All-MLB second team, $350,000 for third in the rookie race, $250,000 for fourth or $150,000 for fifth.
Kansas City shortstop Bobby Witt Jr. topped last year’s pre-arbitration bonus pool at $3,077,595, and Skenes was second at $2,152,057 despite not making his big league debut until May 11. Baltimore shortstop Gunnar Henderson was third at $2,007,178.