Is it possible that, after seven calendar years in the big leagues and 900 innings pitched, we still don’t know who Nick Pivetta is?
I mean, we know some things about him. We know he’s Canadian. We know he’s comfortable holding monkeys. We know — or at least can confidently infer — that he doesn’t like to think too much when sits down in the barber’s chair.
But as a pitcher I don’t think we have a clue who he is.
There are really two possibilities:
Possibility A is that he is exactly what his whole career has told us he is: a very durable but ultimately inconsistent pitcher who has shown flashes of real effectiveness balanced with Quad-A ineptitude, ultimately making him little more than a swingman.