The Cleveland Guardians spent the offseason aggressively rebuilding their bullpen, cycling through arms, contracts, and projections in search of stability. Yet in the process, they let something far rarer slip through their fingers â a homegrown reliever whose journey embodied resilience, hope, and everything fans want to believe baseball can still be about.
On Wednesday, Dec. 31, the Guardians officially lost right-handed pitcher Nic Enright to the Toronto Blue Jays, who signed the 28-year-old to a two-year minor league deal. On paper, the move might seem minor. In reality, it landed like a gut punch.
Enright, despite pitching just 31 major league innings in 2025, was outstanding. He posted a sparkling 2.03 ERA, showing poise, command, and an ability to get outs in pressure situations. He wasnât flashy. He wasnât loud. He was simply effective â and he was Clevelandâs.
But baseball decisions are rarely sentimental.
In November, the Guardians designated Enright for assignment, fully aware that he was likely to miss most, if not all, of the 2026 season while recovering from Tommy John surgery. Toronto pounced. Cleveland moved on.
And fans noticed.
Enrightâs story had transcended box scores long before his ERA ever turned heads. Drafted in the 20th round of the 2019 MLB Amateur Draft, he spent six grinding seasons in the minors, bouncing between affiliates, rehabbing, recalibrating, and waiting. Then came the moment that nearly ended everything: a diagnosis of Hodgkin lymphoma roughly three years ago.
For many players, that would have been the end of the line.
For Enright, it became the defining chapter.
âThere were some dark days, and thatâs when I leaned on all those people around me,â Enright said during his return. âThe biggest thing was not letting cancer control me and not letting it dictate how I was going to live my life.â
That mindset carried him back to the mound â and eventually to the big leagues. When Enright finally made his MLB debut with Cleveland, the same organization that drafted him nearly six years earlier, it felt scripted. A story so perfect it barely seemed real.
Even Guardians manager Stephen Vogt admitted it.
âYou canât draw it up. Itâs just one of those cool things,â Vogt said earlier this season. âJust to see all that heâs persevered through different organizations, coming back to Cleveland and getting to make his major league debut with the Guardians⊠it was a really special day for Nic and his family.â
That âspecial dayâ is now part of Clevelandâs past.
From a pure baseball standpoint, Enright still profiles as a pitcher worth betting on. Across the last two seasons, he has logged just 61 innings, but the results suggest reliability. He operates with a clean four-pitch mix â a four-seam fastball, curveball, slider, and changeup â giving him options against both righties and lefties. When healthy, his command and sequencing allowed him to play above raw velocity.
Yes, the Tommy John surgery complicates everything. Enright will be close to 30 by the time he returns to game action, likely in 2027. Development windows shrink fast at that age. Risk increases. Front offices get cold.
But thatâs precisely where Toronto saw opportunity.
The Blue Jaysâ two-year minor league deal gives Enright the runway Cleveland chose not to provide: time to rehab, time to refine, and time to return without pressure. Even more notable, Toronto will control his rights through 2031, a low-cost, high-upside gamble for an organization seeking bullpen depth beyond the immediate horizon.
For Cleveland, the logic behind the decision is understandable â even if itâs painful.
The Guardians boast one of the deepest pitching pipelines in baseball, with wave after wave of arms moving through the system. Roster spots are finite. Injured pitchers without options become difficult to justify, especially in a bullpen-heavy offseason.
Still, logic doesnât quiet emotion.
What Cleveland loses isnât just a reliever. Itâs a reminder that baseball is still built on stories, not spreadsheets. Enright wasnât just a name in the bullpen. He was proof that perseverance can still win, that late-round picks can still matter, that the game can still surprise you in the best way.
Now, that story continues north of the border.
Cleveland will move forward. The bullpen will churn. New arms will emerge. But Nic Enrightâs departure leaves a different kind of void â one not easily filled by velocity, spin rate, or prospect rankings.
Sometimes, the hardest losses arenât the biggest contracts or the loudest stars.
Sometimes, itâs the ones that meant something.
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