Late Tuesday night, the Oakland Athletics leaked what looked like a forward-thinking adjustment: one of their top young bats was beginning reps at a new defensive position. On paper, it read like strategic roster flexibility—another savvy move from a front office known for doing more with less. But peel back the layers, and the picture starts to look less like planning and more like scrambling. Behind closed doors, there was no true development runway, no preparing in the minors, no test drives in spring. Just a quiet shift, and now a young player is learning a brand-new position in real-time—on the biggest stage.
This isn’t innovation. This is improvisation disguised as foresight. And it raises a bigger question that teams like the A’s can't afford to get wrong: is planning for flexibility the same as developing it?
Tyler Soderstrom, one of the most hyped bats in Oakland’s system, is now being asked to do something incredibly difficult—learn a brand-new defensive position in real-time, in the middle of the regular season. And he’s being asked to do it while still trying to establish himself offensively. That’s not flexibility. That’s putting a young player in a position to struggle.
On the surface, this kind of move may not raise eyebrows. In today’s game, positional versatility is currency. Learning new skills, adapting to new roles—this is the cost of doing business in modern roster construction. Flexibility has been quantified and championed for years.
But here’s the rub: timing and intent matter. And 20 games into the season, suddenly revealing that you’re teaching a player a new position isn’t flexibility—it’s firefighting. It's reactive. And it risks derailing the very value you're trying to preserve.
Compare that to the Astros. This spring, when roster dynamics shifted, they asked perennial All-Star Jose Altuve—yes, Jose Altuve—to take reps in left field. It wasn’t a last-ditch move. It wasn’t born out of panic. It was a calculated decision made during a period meant for experimentation and learning. It gave Altuve time to adjust. It gave him time to make mistakes. It gave the team room to evaluate. And most importantly, it sent a message: flexibility is something you build, not something you scramble toward when your depth chart changes based off of player performance.
The issue here isn’t just that a player is being asked to learn something new—it’s when and how that ask is made. Teams have an entire Spring Training—two full months dedicated to preparation, experimentation, and role definition. That’s the window to try things like positional changes, not the regular season when every game counts and routines are cemented.
But even that’s only part of the equation. The best organizations don’t wait for spring. They build flexibility into their player development pipelines from the beginning. If you want a bat-first catcher to potentially play first base, or a corner outfielder to moonlight at second, those seeds need to be planted years earlier—in the minors, with support from player development staff and individualized plans. That’s what turns flexibility from a panic move into a strength.
This isn’t about calling out one team. The A’s are far from the only organization juggling tough decisions with limited roster space. To their defense Soderstrom has been trying to balance the catching position over the past few years and the assumption from my end is that they wanted to ensure that he got every chance that he possibly could to play the position. The larger point is this: if you want flexibility at the highest level, you have to build it long before the big league lights come on.
Too often, versatility is treated as an emergency lever—something to pull when Plan A falters. But for it to actually work, it needs to be embedded in a player’s development arc. That means mapping out positional possibilities when players are drafted. It means using spring training not just for competition, but for controlled exploration. It means collaborating across departments—scouting, player dev, and the big league staff—to create continuity in expectations and opportunity.
The best organizations aren’t waiting to react to roster crunches—they’re developing players who are ready for them. Take Kristian Campbell of the Boston Red Sox. When he was drafted, he had played only six games in the outfield at Georgia Tech. But from day one in the Red Sox system, he was exposed to multiple positions—both in the infield and outfield—as part of a clear development strategy. By giving Campbell those reps early, the Red Sox weren’t just preparing him for different positions—they were ensuring he could contribute in various roles without stifling his growth. This proactive approach allows the parent club to move in different directions as needed, without being cornered by roster limitations.
Contrast this with the situation in Oakland, where Tyler Soderstrom, a highly touted bat, is now being asked to learn a new position mid-season. Unlike the Red Sox’s early and gradual approach to developing flexibility, Soderstrom’s shift comes in the midst of the season, when the focus is on immediate performance rather than long-term development. While position changes in-season can work, they often come with less room for error and fewer opportunities to build a foundation. The contrast is clear: one organization is preparing its players for flexibility from the start, while the other is working to integrate it as circumstances evolve.
Ultimately, preparing players to be flexible parts of an ever-evolving lineup and roster requires intentional planning, focus, and development throughout the minor league system as players progress. When teams don’t prioritize this type of flexibility early on, hoping to resolve it mid-season, they risk putting their players in a tougher spot to succeed. In-season adjustments should be focused on refining existing skills, not building from the ground up. The best organizations lay the groundwork long before players reach the big leagues, ensuring their readiness for whatever challenges arise.