Vlad Guerrero, Jr.’s big night took the spotlight off George Springer’s frustrating injury saga

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Try to imagine this from George Springer’s perspective.

You were a key cog, but not the big star, of one of the best baseball teams of modern times. That team imploded in the sort of cheating scandal that turns franchises into perennial punchlines. You were implicated in that scandal along with the rest. But you have been given a way out. You can go elsewhere and start again, enriching yourself immensely in the process.

All you have to do in order to make this happen is show up for work. And you can’t even manage that.

First it’s your oblique. Then it’s your quad. You’re figuring out how the leg bone’s connected to the knee bone, but doing it in a physiotherapist’s office.

As a man making $150,000 a night to answer questions like “Does it hurt when you bend it this way?” you’re feeling pretty bad about yourself.

You’re feeling even worse because your new employer keeps teasing your arrival like you’re a groom who’s an hour late for the wedding – “I’m sure he’ll be here any time. Wait, I hear a car! Oh. It’s just Randal Grichuk.” Every game you miss is five more minutes on that metaphoric clock.

But just as you, George Springer, are beginning to despair, Vladimir Guerrero, Jr. shows up.

Guerrero knows a thing or two about blown introductions. The Jays screwed that one up as well. Before he came to the big leagues, Guerrero was sold as something between Ty Cobb and Hercules. The Jays fed that narrative for years, nodding back at the kid coming up the ranks whenever the actual working pros on their roster pooched another season.

Any analytics department should be able to tell you how unreasonable expectations turn out 99 per cent of the time. Guerrero – this new baseball Superman – was just okay.

He was moved away from his position at third base for fear he’d lean too quickly to his left and blow up every joint south of his neck. That didn’t exactly smack of brilliant player development.

As long as he was just okay, the Jays looked like a bunch of amateurs. The team has a whole department devoted to “high performance.” Did they all take a couple of years off or something? Did they lose Guerrero’s phone number?

In the way of these things, it was left to Guerrero to decide he wanted to change. This off-season he shed a bunch of weight and came back looking like what you’d expect a 21-year-old professional athlete to look like.

Lighter doesn’t necessarily equal better in baseball. John Kruk was a beachball of a man, and there was a moment when he was the game’s central figure. CC Sabathia radically altered his body late in his career and got worse.

And gym fit is no guarantee of anything. Back in the day, up-and-coming Jays reliever Brandon League came back one off-season having transformed himself from whippet-thin to bulging Adonis. He promptly yanked about four thousand muscles in his back and went off an injury cliff.

The guys who look the best aren’t necessarily so. This is the “good body” fallacy. Which is why people were careful not to get too excited about Guerrero’s sudden “after” picture.

But Guerrero clearly likes fitting into the same jeans he wore to (grade school) prom. Three weeks into the season, he is Major League Baseball’s great revelation.

On Tuesday night, he skipped over that invisible line that separates star players from household names. He hit three homers, including a grand slam, against the Washington Nationals. The first couple were off three-time Cy Young winner Max Scherzer.

Afterward, Guerrero talked about how “blessed” he felt to perform so well against “a legend.” Scherzer, who is never in a gushing mood, grumbled about his command.

These are baseball’s real introductions – the old bull against the new stud, with the kid coming out decisively on top. These moments cannot be contrived. They just happen on a random Tuesday while no one is paying much attention. That’s something teams never quite figure out.

So now, two years after his first attempt, Guerrero has put himself top of mind for every fan in baseball.

What was Springer doing while all this was happening? Thanking whatever higher power he worships that he wasn’t playing.

Tuesday was supposed to be Springer’s debut. He took batting practice. But after jogging the bases, he pulled the chute.

“He feels great except for running,” Jays manager Charlie Montoyo said.

Which would be fantastic if Springer played professional snooker, but not so much for baseball, where there is a fair amount of running.

Can you imagine if he’d played? “Finally! Here comes our US$150-million man! He looks so … hey, what do you think you’re doing, man? That’s Vlad’s seat! You sit over there. No, no. Further. Further. Fuuurther.”

By Wednesday, Springer was far enough along that he was able to make his first appearance – as a designated hitter. He went 0 for 4 at the plate in an 8-2 loss to the Washington Nationals.

That still left Tuesday as one of the all-round great nights for the Blue Jays in recent years. It was transcendent for Guerrero’s profile in the game, and it was quietly helpful for Springer’s peace of mind.

Though he is the biggest signing in franchise history, Springer has never been a No. 1. He’s the quiet, dependable guy who stands just behind the loud talkers out front.

Guerrero’s emergence has freed Springer from having to change that routine. Guerrero is No. 1, which allows Springer to be 1A.

All Springer has to do is hit a decent lead-off, play decent defence and be decent whenever a camera is turned on him. It’s not exactly a tall order.

This also presumes the Jays continue to get better. Guerrero turning into Carlos Delgado doesn’t add up to much if the Jays now turn into the Jays from back then. But it is a very decent start.

There’s a lesson here about introductions: Don’t rush them. Don’t talk about them before they happen. And if they are dragging out, stop teasing them. Good things happen in their own time.