FORT MYERS, Fla. — Inside the batting cages at the Boston Red Sox‘s spring training complex, where the future of hitting is playing out in real time, the best trio of position prospects in a generation blossomed.
Kristian Campbell, Roman Anthony and Marcelo Mayer have spent hundreds of hours in the building, rotating around its 10 tunnels, though their best work always seems to happen in Cage 4, right inside the main entrance. When they walk through the door, underneath a sign with a Ted Williams quote in big, capital letters — “WE’RE GOING TO LEARN HOW TO DO TWO THINGS … WE’RE GOING TO HIT IT HARD AND WE’RE GOING TO HIT IT IN THE AIR” — they enter a hitting laboratory. Every cage is equipped with a HitTrax that gives them real-time batted-ball data. Trash cans house an array of training bats — overweight and underweight, long and short, skinny. A Trajekt robot, capable of replicating every pitch thrown in the major leagues over the past half-decade, is joined by a dozen other standard pitching machines. Exit velocity leaderboards dot the walls.
Here, Campbell, Anthony and Mayer are in the middle of everything, appropriate for what their future holds. They’re learning modern hitting philosophy, applying it in an array of competitions that aim to turn their tools into skills, jamming to Bachata and Reggaeton and rap and rock, talking immense amounts of trash. On a small desk inside Cage 4 sit two binders outlining the Red Sox’s hitting philosophy: one in English and one in Spanish. These binders outline what the organization’s hitting coaches refer to as its Core Four tenets: swing decisions, bat speed, bat-to-ball skill and ball flight.
As pitchers have leveraged baseball’s sabermetric revolution into designer offerings and a sportwide velocity jump, hitting has fallen behind. Batting average and weighted on-base average (a metric that measures productivity at the plate) are at low points over the past half-century. Pitchers regularly flummox hitters. The Red Sox believe they can bridge the gap. And the new big three — a nickname that was originally given to Mayer, Anthony and Kyle Teel, the catching prospect at the heart of the trade that brought ace Garrett Crochet to Boston over the winter — are the philosophy’s beta test.
“The training environment is the biggest thing with us,” said Anthony, a 20-year-old outfielder. “We push each other so much, and it’s always that competitive — friendly, but competitive — environment we set in the cage. We talk crap to each other. We really try to get the best out of each other and really beat each other in training. And I think it makes us better when we take the field.”
There, their results are undeniable. Mayer, 22, is a smooth-fielding, left-handed-hitting shortstop who fell to the Red Sox with the No. 4 pick in the 2021 draft, weathered injuries and saw his exit velocity spike and strikeout rate dip last year. Anthony, who signed for a well-over-slot $2.5 million bonus after Boston chose him with the 79th pick in the 2022 draft, is widely regarded as the best hitting prospect in the minor leagues. The 22-year-old Campbell, a fourth-round pick in 2023 as a draft-eligible redshirt freshman, was a revelation last season, the consensus Minor League Player of the Year who went from unheralded to a prospect coveted even more than Anthony by some teams despite an unorthodox swing.
All three will be in the major leagues sooner than later — for Campbell, perhaps by Opening Day. They’ll bring with them a shared experience they believe will transfer to the big leagues. When they eventually face Yankees ace Gerrit Cole, they’ll have a sense of what to expect, not just because they stood in against him on the Trajekt but because coaches took his best fastballs (100 mph at the top of the zone), added an extra half-foot of rise to them and challenged the kids to hit it.
“You want to be surrounded with the best,” Anthony said, “because it makes you want to become the best.”
IN SEPTEMBER 2023, after the minor league season ended, the Red Sox gathered their minor league prospects at their spring training complex for a two-month offseason camp. Boston’s staff assesses every hitter to form an action plan, and Campbell’s was clear. He made excellent swing decisions and had elite bat-to-ball ability, both of which manifested themselves as he hit .376 with 29 walks and 17 strikeouts over 217 plate appearances in his lone season at Georgia Tech. While the 6-foot-3, 210-pound Campbell swung the bat hard, the Red Sox saw room for improvement. Ball flight represented the biggest area of need after his average launch angle during 22 postdraft pro games was just 2 degrees.
Inside the complex’s cafeteria one day in camp, Campbell was surveying his options when Red Sox hitting coordinator John Soteropulos meandered by. Soteropulos had joined the team after three years as a hitting coach at Driveline Baseball, the Seattle-based think tank where philosophies have pervaded the game over the past decade. Soteropulos noticed shepherd’s pie on the cafeteria’s menu and alerted Campbell.
“You need to eat that,” Soteropulos said. “It’s got bat speed in it.”
“I hope it has ball flight, too,” Campbell said.
While Mayer entered the MLB ecosystem as a top prospect and Anthony a tooled-up could-be star, Campbell was different. Taken with the compensatory pick the Red Sox received when longtime shortstop Xander Bogaerts signed with the San Diego Padres, Campbell signed for less than $500,000. His swing was janky. He needed work. Soteropulos, director of hitting and fellow Driveline alum Jason Ochart and assistant farm director Chris Stasio were empowered by Red Sox management to implement their new systems in hopes of extracting the best version of later-round picks like Campbell — and if it worked, he would represent the proof of concept.
From the moment he arrived in the organization, Campbell impressed the staff with his desire to learn. And challenging players beyond the perfunctory repetitions hitters take — the same soft flips in the batting cage, the same 60 mph batting practice before every game — is at the heart of Boston’s philosophy.
Professional baseball players, the thinking goes, are elite problem solvers. Giving them complex problems drives them to adapt. If they train in environments that don’t take them outside of their comfort zone, improvement is negligible. Challenging hitters, whether with the Trajekt or with machine balls that fly only when struck on the sweet spot or with slim bats that emphasize barrel control or hundreds of other ways, forces that adaptation. And it’s those changes that take a nonexistent or atrophied skill and give it heft.
“I really wanted to go to a team that could develop me into a great player and that will take the time to help me because I feel like I’m really coachable and I listen,” Campbell said. “I just need the right information. And if I don’t know what I’m doing, it’s hard for me to correct and change things.”
Over those two months, the Red Sox didn’t overhaul Campbell’s swing as much as they found the best version of it. Thirty years ago, Coop DeRenne, a professor at the University of Hawaii, ran a study on overload and underload training that showed it significantly improved bat speed. The industry has mostly ignored its findings, but Driveline embraced them and brought them to the Red Sox. Campbell trained two days a week with bats that were 20% heavier and 20% lighter than standard 31-ounce bats. Though he whipped his bat through the zone with a preternatural ability to stay on plane — the angle of the bat meeting the angle at which the pitch arrived at home plate — delivering the barrel with greater force reinforced a tenet Red Sox coaches preach repeatedly: “The bats do the work for you.”
The bigger challenge was adulterating Campbell’s swing to hit the ball in the air. Williams, who wanted to be known as the greatest hitter who ever lived, long advocated for ball flight because he understood a hard-hit ground ball is typically a single while balls struck in the air produce the vast majority of extra-base hits. Pulling the ball in the air is particularly important. The longer a bat takes to make contact, the more speed it generates. Meeting a ball in front — which typically allows a hitter to pull — maximizes the capacity for damage.
Rather than overhaul Campbell’s swing, the Red Sox preferred to let his natural athleticism guide him toward a solution. Instead of moving his hand position or getting rid of his toe-tap, Campbell altered where he wanted to strike the ball, reminding himself with every rep to do something counterintuitive: Swing under it.
“For me, it’s just a feeling,” Campbell said. “You got to know where your barrel is at all times. It was in an odd spot because I was trying to get more elevation on the ball than normal. So I feel like I have to swing under the ball to hit it in the air. And I really was on plane because I’ve been so on top of it all these years.”
Campbell’s barrel aptitude improved by taking reps with a fungo bat or a slim 37-inch bat (3 to 4 inches longer than the standard bat), which forced him to meet the ball farther in front of the plate. The skills learned in doing so eventually meld with a hitter’s’ regular bats, and variations of drills — offsetting standard pitching machines to the side, mixed-pitch Trajekt sessions — allow them to be applied in new, challenging environments. In the cages in Ft. Myers, coaches pitted Campbell and his fellow prospects against one another to see who could hit the ball hardest or most consistently. Winners gloated — “Marcelo talks s— 25/8,” Anthony said — and those who didn’t win returned the next day intent on revenge.
When last winter’s offseason sessions ended, the Red Sox were hopeful they would translate into a breakout season for Campbell. Even they could not have predicted what transpired over the ensuing months. Campbell said he came into 2024 hoping to hit five home runs — one more than in his lone college season. He started the season at High-A Greenville and hit his fifth home run May 9. Less than a month later, with three more home runs on the ledger, he ascended to Double-A, where he spent two months and whacked eight more homers. He was promoted to Triple-A for the final month and added another four, finishing the season hitting .330/.439/.558 with 20 home runs, 24 stolen bases, 74 walks and 103 strikeouts in 517 plate appearances.
“I remember the first time I saw him hit, I was like, ‘The hell is this?’ ” Mayer said. “He’s in the cage with the weirdest swing I’ve ever seen, and he’s got his long bat, and I’m like, ‘What?’ Next thing I know, he’s hitting .380.”
When Red Sox shortstop Trevor Story first saw Campbell on a rehabilitation assignment in Triple-A, he was taken by his ability “to self-organize and learn how to solve problems.”
“He has a special talent for moving the bat,” Story said. “His bat speed is just violent. When you hear it, you’re like, oh, s—.”
“It’s controlled violence,” Campbell said. “You got to make sure you see the ball. And then whenever you make a decision to swing, you got to put your fastest, hardest, best swing on it and make sure you stay somewhat under control while that ball is going on so you can hit the ball as well as possible.
“Every swing really can’t be the same. The way pitches move and how good everybody is nowadays, if you take the same swing every time and only can hit certain pitches, that’s a mistake. You’ve got to be able to adjust to different things, different pitches, different locations.”
DURING THE FIRST week of this year’s spring training, before the full Boston squad reported, Red Sox Hall of Famer Dwight Evans stood outside of Cage 4 and admired what he was seeing. Evans spent two seasons as a hitting coach, in 1994 with Colorado and 2002 with the Red Sox, and he recognizes baseball’s evolution. The game changes, and even if all the technology isn’t his cup of tea, he isn’t going to argue with the results.
In Campbell, Mayer and Anthony, he doesn’t see prospects. Without an at-bat to their names in MLB, they remind Evans — who spent 20 seasons in the major leagues, 19 with Boston — of his peers.
“It’s almost like they’ve been around 10 years in the big leagues,” Evans said. “They just have it. They know what they’re trying to do.”
The Red Sox believe this is just the beginning for Campbell, Mayer and Anthony and that their approach to hitting will create a pipeline of prospects to join a core that includes the trio alongside All-Stars Rafael Devers, Jarren Duran, Alex Bregman and Story, and the young and talented Triston Casas and Ceddanne Rafaela. Buy-in at all levels is paramount, and chief baseball officer Craig Breslow, assistant general manager Paul Toboni and farm director Brian Abraham are leaning into the work done by Ochart, Soteropulos and Stasio. Breslow hired Kyle Boddy, who founded Driveline, as a special adviser. Five other former Driveline employees dot the player development, baseball science and major league staffs, and Stasio was promoted over the winter to director of major league development, a new role in which he will apply the development philosophies to the big league club and maintain the continuity for prospects who ascend to Fenway Park.
Campbell is in line to be the first — of many, the Red Sox hope — to crack the big league roster. He’s in competition for the second-base job this spring, a testament to the organization’s belief in him. If he wins it, Bregman will play third and Devers — who has received MVP votes five of the past six years and signed a franchise-record $313.5 million contract — will move to designated hitter, a role he said unequivocally he doesn’t want to play.
The Red Sox see Campbell as worth the potential drama. Perhaps it’s a function of five playoff-free seasons in six years since their 2018 World Series title, but it’s likely simpler: Campbell is too good to keep down. Mayer and Anthony won’t be far behind. The competition fostered in Cage 4 — and the work ethic it demands — isn’t going anywhere.
Even before Campbell’s arrival, Mayer and Anthony had grown close through late-night, postgame hitting sessions. Both have beautiful left-handed swings, more traditional than Campbell’s in which he waggles the bat, pointing it almost directly toward the sky at the swing’s launch point. Starting from a better place than Campbell hasn’t kept either from reaping the benefits of Boston’s program.
“I don’t know if I’m hitting the ball harder because it’s necessarily bat speed or because I’m working in the gym, but both together could only help,” Mayer said. “So over the years, I feel like I’m hitting it harder, I’m moving the bat quicker. I have a better understanding of my swing. So all those things tie in and play a big role and lead to success.”
Knowing which prospects will find major league success is impossible, though in an era defined by objective data, the misses aren’t nearly as frequent. There was no bat-speed data when Eric Hosmer, Mike Moustakas and Wil Myers were all top-10 prospects for Kansas City in 2010. Trajekt was a dream machine when Arizona had Justin Upton, Chris Young and Carlos Gonzalez in 2007. Exit velocity was the domain of rocket ships in 2004 when Rickie Weeks, Prince Fielder and J.J. Hardy were coming through the Milwaukee system.
It’s a whole new baseball world, and it is on full display in Cage 4, where Campbell, Mayer and Anthony have spent so much time working with their instructors that they joke that Soteropulos might as well sleep there.
“It’s pretty cool to think about how many spring trainings we’ve been in there,” Anthony said. “Looking back at it and being on the big league side, just appreciating guys like John and guys on the minor league side that take so much time out of their days to get us better.”
For all the struggles hitters around baseball have faced, the Red Sox believe in their system — and in this first generation that will serve as a litmus test to its efficacy.
“I’m committed to the game,” Campbell said. “I want to be the best player I can be every day. I want to bring whatever I can to Boston. Once I knew they drafted me, I was like, ‘That’s the team I’m going to debut with. That’s the team I’m going to play with. I want to play with the team for a long time.’ I just knew that I’m going to give all I have to this team that took a chance on me. I’m going to make sure it’s worth it for them and me.”
TUSCALOOSA, Ala. — More than a year after Kalen DeBoer replaced perhaps the greatest coach in college football history, his Alabama players don’t necessarily sense that he’s a different person.
But they sense a subtle difference as the second spring practice under DeBoer winds down this week.
“Coach DeBoer had his battles last year, replacing a legend like Coach [Nick] Saban in the middle of the transfer portal, and it was hard to implement everything the way he wanted,” said linebacker Deontae Lawson, a returning captain.
“It was kind of hard for him to come in and be the bad cop or whatever last year. He’s still laid back and still wants the players to lead, but his fingerprints are on everything now — and he’s made it known that you better be locked in.”
DeBoer flashed an easy smile when told of Lawson’s “bad cop” analogy.
“It was more that we were in retention mode,” DeBoer told ESPN on Monday. “I wouldn’t say we slacked off on any of the things that would be the standard of what we need to do and how you need to operate.
“But I do think there’s another level of an edge, a harder edge.”
The Crimson Tide missed the College Football Playoff in DeBoer’s first season. They finished 9-4 and were plagued with the type of inconsistency that isn’t uncommon when a coach takes over such a high-profile program. Alabama lost to Vanderbilt for the first time in 40 years, lost to rival Tennessee and lost to Michigan in a bowl game, but beat Georgia and LSU.
The most crushing blow for Alabama came in the next-to-last week of the regular season when the Crimson Tide were still in position to make the playoff. They went on the road and were blown out 24-3 by an Oklahoma team that was 5-5 and 1-5 in the conference.
“That’s not the standard here, and we all know it,” Lawson said. “But you go back and look at the way Coach DeBoer handled it. He wasn’t pointing the finger at anybody else. He took it all on himself, and I think what you see now is everybody has bought in. We’re one.”
DeBoer said this season, and the way he has evolved, aren’t unlike his second season at other coaching stops such as Washington and Fresno State.
“Your relationships are deeper,” DeBoer said. “You establish that harder edge because of the understanding of what we need to do to accomplish it, and now we have the experiences for the most part together, the staff and players.
“We’re more comfortable now calling each other out because our relationships are stronger, and we know that we all want the same thing. I feel like now we’re closer to having the alignment between staff and players and having the right people here. Everyone has an appreciation for what each other brings to the table.”
One of the things DeBoer did this offseason was bring back one of his most trusted colleagues, offensive coordinator Ryan Grubb, who was with the NFL’s Seattle Seahawks last season. They first coached together in 2007 at Sioux Falls. Grubb was DeBoer’s OC on the 2023 Washington team that lost in the national championship game.
As it happens, Saban, prior to his final season in 2023, tried to hire Grubb as his OC, but the coordinator elected to stay at Washington.
Two of the qualities Grubb hopes to bring to Alabama’s program are consistency and strength.
“You don’t play into the good too much and force yourself through the tough parts,” Grubb said. “Kalen is the same way, keeping it calm when it needs to be calm and being really, really strong when you’ve got to be strong.”
Receiver Germie Bernard, who played under DeBoer and Grubb when they were together at Washington before transferring to Alabama, said they always had answers for everything, no matter what the opposing defense threw at the Huskies.
“And really it’s the belief they instilled in you as a player and the way they played off each other, adding things, tweaking things, playing to what we did best,” Bernard said.
One of the big decisions that still needs to be made on offense won’t be finalized until later this summer. Ty Simpson, Austin Mack and Keelon Russell are competing for the starting quarterback job.
“I think we’ve got three really, really good quarterbacks, and I mean that,” Grubb said. “I don’t think anybody has separated. They’re all playing good, but they’re not playing great yet. You’re looking for the guy that’s going to be consistent, that can show up the same and make the same plays all the time.”
In an ideal world, Grubb would like to know who his quarterback is heading into the summer.
“But I wasn’t expecting that either. I wasn’t going into this thinking, ‘Oh, I bet by practice 11 this will be done,'” Grubb said. “I didn’t think that at all, and I didn’t think that because I thought all three of them were good players.”
Grubb said that the staff has charted every throw this spring and that Mack (162 reps) and Simpson (158 reps) have received most of the work in team drills.
At Washington, the coaching staff didn’t name a starter until Week 2 of preseason camp when Michael Penix Jr., a transfer from Indiana, beat out incumbent Dylan Morris.
“That was a little bit different than our situation here,” Grubb said. “Mike had started a lot of games. Dylan had started games. We had two guys that had Power 5 starting experience. So, yes, you would have loved for this guy to have grabbed it and run with it, but we’re just not there yet.”
SAN DIEGO — Cedric Dempsey, the former NCAA president who helped turn Arizona into a national power as athletic director before leading the national organization through key years of transition and growth, died Saturday in San Diego, the NCAA said. He was 92.
Dempsey was revered as an administrator on campus. His nine-year tenure as the NCAA’s leader included moving its headquarters and significant fiscal growth for the organization, including landmark television deals worth billions.
“Ced was instrumental in shaping the NCAA as it moved into the new century, overseeing a restructuring of the organization, and strengthening the foundation of college sports for years that followed his tenure,” current NCAA president Charlie Baker said in a statement released by the organization.
“His impact on the lives of student-athletes and administrators across the nation will be felt for years to come,” Baker said.
Dempsey oversaw the organization’s move from the Kansas City suburbs to Indianapolis in 1999 and helped reimagine how the governing body could work best in the 21st Century.
His most enduring legacy may be the role he played in creating television deals with ESPN and CBS that brought in $6.2 billion over an 11-year span.
Dempsey charmed his way through it all with a smile and wit that was lauded throughout the headquarters and the college sports world.
“Twenty-one years ago, Cedric painted a picture for me that I could one day be an athletic director,” current Arizona athletic director Desireé Reed-Francois said in a statement. “His guidance helped me see a calling I never knew could be possible. I am forever grateful for the impact he had on the trajectory of my career and on my life as a whole. He will be deeply missed by our family and by everyone in the University of Arizona community.”
Reed-Francois first met Dempsey when she was serving as an associate athletic director for Compliance and as the Senior Woman Administrator at Fresno State.
Dempsey’s hires in Tucson included coaches such as Lute Olson and Dick Tomey, who became iconic figures for Wildcats fans. During his 11-year tenure, Arizona State teams won five national team championships, 39 individual NCAA titles and 17 Pac-10 crowns.
He also served as the men’s basketball selection committee chairman in 1988-89.
Dempsey grew up in Equality, Illinois, and went on to play football, basketball and baseball at Albion College in Michigan. From 1959-62, he served as the men’s basketball and cross country coach at his alma mater before stepping back in 1963 to become an assistant basketball coach.
In 1965, he started a 46-year career in administration by becoming an associate athletic director also at Albion. He left there to be the athletic director at Pacific in California, before stints at San Diego State and Houston before moving to Arizona in 1983.
Dempsey left Arizona in 1994 to become the sixth executive director/president in NCAA history, and it was there he became a national figure.
“I think the NCAA is where it is today because of Ced,” former NCAA executive committee chairman Bob Lawless said when Dempsey announced he was retiring in January 2002. “He has been a real treasure for the NCAA.”
He also served as commissioner of the All-American Football League from 2007-10 and battled cancer three times. Dempsey is a member of multiple Halls of Fame and is survived by his wife, June, and two children.
Eli Lederman covers college football and recruiting for ESPN.com. He joined ESPN in 2024 after covering the University of Oklahoma for Sellout Crowd and the Tulsa World.
BYU landed the program’s highest-ranked pledge since at least 2006 on Monday when four-star tight end Brock Harris, ESPN’s No. 33 overall recruit and the No. 1 player in the state of Utah, announced his commitment to coach Kalani Sitake and the Cougars.
Harris, a 6-foot-7, 240-pound prospect from Saint George, Utah, is ESPN’s fourth-ranked tight end in the 2026 class. He chose BYU over Michigan, Georgia, Miami, Oregon and Utah following multiple trips to all six schools over the past year prior to Harris’ announcement at Pine View (Utah) High School on Monday afternoon. He lands with the Cougars as the lone ESPN 300 pledge among five prospects currently committed to the program’s 2026 class.
The son of a former BYU baseball player, Harris attracted heavy Power 4 interest and took an extensive number of visits throughout his process — most recently to Michigan in late March — before opting to remain in his home state with BYU.
Harris previously told ESPN that his connection with the program’s coaching staff began after he first attended a BYU prospect camp in the eighth grade. Those ties were ultimately strong enough for the Cougars to fend off national powers like Georgia, Oregon and Michigan for the coveted tight end recruit who grew up roughly 260 miles southwest of campus.
A standout route runner for his size, Harris projects to be a versatile hybrid tight end at the college level, equipped with sharp blocking ability but also elite pass-catching traits that could allow him to become a dangerous downfield target. Harris, who has hauled in 118 passes for 1,678 yards and 21 touchdowns across three varsity seasons, will join a thin and unseasoned BYU tight ends room in 2026 with Cougars tight ends Carsen Ryan and Ethan Erickson both out of eligibility following the 2025 season.
Harris will become BYU’s highest-ranked high school addition in the ESPN recruiting era (since 2006) and only the program’s seventh top 300 pledge in that span if he signs with the Cougars later this year. He joins three-star tight Ty Goettsche, cornerback Justice Brathwaite and a pair of in-state prospects in quarterback Kaneal Sweetwyne and outside linebacker Penisimani Takitaki among the early commits to BYU’s upcoming recruiting class.
Harris is now the second pledge among the eight tight ends ranked inside ESPN’s top 150 prospect in 2026, joining five-star Oregon pledge Kendre’ Harrison (No. 11 in the ESPN 300), who committed to the Ducks this past November.
After missing out on Harris, Georgia remains heavily involved in the recruitments of five-star tight end Kaiden Prothro (No. 19) and Mark Bowman (No. 24). Oregon is another program in the mix for Bowman, who reclassified from the 2027 cycle earlier this year, and could still rejoin the race for Ian Premer (No. 60). Former Texas A&M pledge Xavier Tiller (No. 83) is set for official visits later this spring with Alabama, Auburn, Florida State and USC. Four-star tight end Mack Sutter (No. 138) has narrowed his recruitment to Alabama, Illinois, Ohio State, Ole Miss and Penn State and will take officials with each program from April 11 to June 20.