Two boxes.

It’s thoughtful. It’s disciplined. And it’s consistent with how this front office operates.

Lynn Henning, writing on his Substack (which is worth the subscription), read those quotes and landed where most conservative projections land: McGonigle gets his Grapefruit League exposure, then it’s off to the bushes. Harris provided the requirements for him to make the team. 

That’s the logical read.

The Tigers have been careful with premium bats. They don’t rush timelines. They don’t let March noise override long-term development. One level at a time. 

But here’s where it gets interesting.

What if Kevin McGonigle doesn’t just “check” the first box?

What if he makes it loud?

There’s a difference between:

If the at-bats show mature swing decisions… If he handles velocity without cheating… If the internal clock at shortstop looks steady… If he’s competing, not surviving…

At some point, the second box becomes less about fear and more about evaluation.

Harris’ concern is real: don’t stunt offensive growth just to gain marginal defensive value.

But if the bat looks ready for sequencing, for adjustments, for the grind, what exactly are you protecting?

Development isn’t about age. It’s about readiness.

Now, let’s stay grounded.

Shortstop is the only path.

He doesn’t have the reps at third. Detroit is still auditioning for that spot long-term. You don’t bring a kid north to learn new footwork in April.

If McGonigle breaks camp, it’s because:

• The glove at short is trusted. • The bat forces the conversation. • And the “too soon” argument gets uncomfortable.

That doesn’t mean the Tigers abandon their philosophy.

It just means spring has a way of stress-testing philosophy.

Harris built a two-box system.

March is where players try to smash one.

And if Kevin McGonigle makes that first box loud enough, the second one may not feel as complicated as it sounded in February.

I’ve watched a lot of Kevin McGonigle.

Not highlight clips. Not stat lines. Games.

I watched him in Erie when the at-bats weren’t loud. I watched him in the playoffs when Konnor Griffin was the one driving the ball with authority and McGonigle was rolling pitches over to the right side. I watched him get pitched in, get tied up, and hit ground balls he’d want back. I also saw him a 110MPH bomb off a 100MPH pitch to right field. 

So this isn’t blind optimism.

It’s growth recognition.

Because the version I’ve seen more recently isn’t the kid just trying to survive pro ball. The swing decisions look cleaner. The contact quality is firmer. The body language is steadier.

That’s why this spring matters.

If he goes to Lakeland and looks like he did during stretches in Erie, controlled, selective, firm through the middle of the field, then yes, the conservative path makes sense.

But if he looks like a hitter who has adjusted… if he stops rolling over those inside pitches and starts keeping them through the left-center gap… if the at-bats feel less developmental and more competitive…

Then the conversation changes.

Not because we want it to.

Because performance demands it.

Scott Harris has his two boxes.

The Tigers have their philosophy.

And I respect both. He goes to Toledo, he goes to Toledo. It is what it is. Not that I have not been wrong before. 

But I’ve watched enough of Kevin McGonigle to know this: when he’s right, he doesn’t look like a prospect. He looks like a player.

If that version shows up in March, consistently, against better pitching, not the guys who are working out their kinks, it won’t be about hype.

It’ll be about whether Detroit is willing to reward readiness.

And if he’s going north, it won’t be because of nostalgia or impatience.

It’ll be because he made it uncomfortable to send him anywhere else.

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