Which of These Cody Bellinger Deals Would You Do?

"Hi, Jed, it's Scott," Scott says, because apparently it's 1997 and you don't have his number saved on a digital screen that lights up before you answer the phone. "Cody Bellinger is really excited about the possibility of coming back to Chicago, but we have some other interest, some other offers, and I want to give you options based on the other deals out there."

Look, are those other interested teams and juicy offers real? Who knows? If you did--if anyone did--Boras wouldn't be worth half a billion dollars just on the commissions he's raked in by pushing dozens of guys' net worth well into nine figures, in their own right. What Boras knows is what you, Jed Hoyer, know: the clock is ticking, The big names are coming off the board. The 2024 Cubs aren't any good right now, and while there are many ways you could bolster the roster between now and Opening Day, many of those avenues run right through Boras. You can't dodge him or defer this showdown any longer. You ask him what he's thinking.

"Well, like I said, Cody's interested in being a Cub for years to come, so we want to discuss a couple of different structures that would make him pass up what the Mari---sorry, coughed there, what some other people we've talked to have offered," Boras says. Yeah, right. The Mariners aren't offering Bellinger what Boras wants for him. Ugh. Or are they? See, this is why he wins. God, why can't Octagon peel someone away from this guy now and then? You love the Octagon guys. They're easy.

"We could make Cody a Cub for seven years for $196 million," Boras continues. "But I'm sympathetic to your position around the luxury tax, and I want to help you out there. We really feel excited about a potential structure where Cody and the Cubs make a long-term commitment to each other, for $220 million over 10 years."

Oh. Oh, ok. See, that's not so bad. Look, you're not going to do either of those deals. But you knew this was going to be the range, when he eventually got real with you about numbers. Two years ago, he got Kris Bryant $182 million over seven years. That was from the Rockies, who massively outbid the rest of the league, and it's gone horrifically since then, but those aren't the kinds of facts you or anyone else can get Boras to acknowledge. He simply worms out of that trap, every time. 

No, what Boras is going to say is that the market has only inflated a bit since the Bryant deal, and that Bellinger is younger and more athletic than Bryant was back then. He's going to say Bellinger's injuries were more acute and less likely to affect his future than Bryant's were. He's only half-right, but he's going to turn that into 55 percent and win the staredown if you force one, so you have to meet him halfway. That seven-year, $182-million mark is his absolute floor for Bellinger, and he's very confident that he's going to come in higher than that.

You like seven-year deals, so right away, that's where you gravitate. You're no A.J. Preller. Actually, Merrill got you an Obvious Shirt for Christmas that literally says, "NOT A.J. PRELLER," because you tell her so often what a fiend that guy is. You're not some desperate overbidder, trying to keep the competitive-balance tax number on a deal down so that you can sign another deal just like this next winter. Scott would love that, wouldn't he? He expects you to fork over this much to his clients every offseason. He doesn't think you know it, but he keeps making back-channel overtures to the Ricketts family, because he knows they're the ones who will crack and give in to him.

On the other hand, this alternative structure doesn't just save you a couple million dollars. Depending on how Scott is willing to structure it, you could realize a full $6 million in annual average value savings, which means more actual dollars to spend as well as more flexibility around the tax thresholds with which you expect to flirt in the next several seasons. Paying Bellinger $28 million per year, given the likelihood that he's confined to first base for you within a year or two and the somewhat tepid batted-ball data underlying his power production from 2023, makes you pretty uneasy. This is no Dansby Swanson situation, where modest offensive production is no great worry. Cranking that salary all the way down to $22 million annually would line him right up with Ian Happ. That's not superstar money. In fact, you're a little surprised Boras is even interested at that price. He usually wants to lengthen a deal like this only if he keeps the AAV essentially intact. You decide to confer with your top baseball people, plus Carter Hawkins, for appearances' sake, and get back to him.

Big mistake. Huge. Two days later, you re-connect with Boras, and the predictable has happened.

"Hey, Jed," Scott says half-apologetically. "Our situation did change a little bit, here. A giant offer just came in." (Who does this guy think he's talking to? Leave the pun work on the little stool at the Winter Meetings, man.) "Cody was awfully impressed by the pitch we heard yesterday, and we need to adjust some of the terms we discussed."

You almost hang up on the spot. This series of phone calls could be texts. It's not like you hadn't been doing this dance for a month, anyway. You were set on trying to talk him down from $196 million and getting Bellinger locked in at $185 million over seven years, with an option for 2031 that would push the deal to $200 million and give Boras his vanity number. This, you can just tell, is going to completely bork that plan.

"We'd still be open to putting Cody back in your lineup for a long time, but we need to start our discussions at $203 million. We can do that over seven years, or we can make it $231 million over 11."

Yeah. Well, naturally. After all, he's got the Mariners and the Giants in the frame, and he'll let Jon Heyman and whoever else wants to jump into the mix keep the Blue Jays alive as a possibility. The Angels are a possibility. He'll find a mystery team if he needs one. These numbers are pretty much as low as they're going to go. While everyone else's asking prices inexorably (if incrementally) fall as the winter wears on, Boras manages to hold his steady. Who cares if the rumors of $250 million or $300 million were always just anchors to drag the public discussion (and, by the relentless, irrational current of these things, the non-public parameters of negotiations) in his direction? Now, after he's successfully killed some time and let the market narrow your options for him, he's managed to work him way pretty close to those figures, and you lack the leverage to pull him back under the magic number of $200 million.

He's really inviting you to pull the trigger on that bigger deal, though, with the new terms. Now, the shorter version of the deal results in a $29-million AAV for Bellinger, and the longer one is only $21 million. You hate to give him the satisfaction, but it's hard to swallow that big an extra payout per year just to avoid those last few years. God, are you going to have to confine the Preller t-shirt to around-the-house use?

No. No, you've got your principles, and it's time to fight back a bit. Your leverage is thin, but it's not imaginary. You play your ace in the hole: Seven years, $189 million, but you'll offer Bellinger both a no-trade clause and a pair of opt-outs, after the second and fourth years of the contract. That would allow Bellinger to hit free agency again at 30 or 32, if he so chose. You're envisioning:

• $21 million in 2024
• $27 million in 2025
• $31 million each in 2026-28
• $27 million in 2029
• $21 million in 2030

That would mean passing up $141 million over five years if Bellinger opted out the first time, or $79 million over three years if he did so the second time. It's a lot of flexibility for him, and it really takes some of the fun out of this for you, but this structure would force him to think hard about walking away even if the next two years go well. Two years after that, he'd be a lot more incentivized to walk away, but by then, you figure that wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, you could always circle back into the bidding if that happened. By then, you'd be in the habit of each other, right?

Boras has read the text you sent with the rough terms, and he's got you on hold, but you're going to hear back soon. It's time to do your own pause-and-reflect. 

Let's you and I step out of our Jed Hoyer skinsuits, now. Let's do some thinking of our very own. That bit of hacky semi-fiction laid bare the basics of the pas de deux going on between Hoyer and Boras right now. Boras really is going to demand at least $182 million over seven seasons from any team interested in Bellinger. His case for Bellinger being more desirable than Bryant is imperfect, but it's going to hold up.

Maybe even that is too rich for you. On Saturday, Bruce Levine said on 670 The Score that he envisioned the Cubs offering Bellinger only five or six years, at anywhere from $27 million to $30 million per year. They can dream, anyway, and they can draw their line there if they want. Bellinger will just end up on the Giants, or the Mariners, or the Angels, or the Blue Jays, or somewhere even more unexpected. You can opt to disdain and ignore price tags in the range I described here. But they are real. So, let's run down the deals I proposed in this exercise.

• 7 years, $196-203 million
• 10 years, $220 million
• 11 years, $231 million
• 7 years, $182-189 million, but with multiple opt-outs

Are any of those deals interesting to you? Would you trade the extra few years of money that could be bad, or even dead, in order to keep AAV down and give the Cubs greater flexibility during the first few years of a Bellinger deal? Or would you want to keep the term and the dollars committed to a minimum, even if it meant yielding some of the upside of Bellinger's remaining prime seasons back to the player and his agent? That's the most interesting discussion left around his free agency, so jump in and help us have it.