Former Brave of the Fortnight: Matt Diaz

Though he played in the College World Series title game for Florida State and accrued 131 plate appearances over three years in the American League, most Braves fans were introduced to Matt Diaz in the spring of 2006, when the unheralded 28-year-old won a backup outfielder job and proceeded to do the one thing he existed to do – mash left-handed pitchers.

Though born in Portland, Oregon, Diaz became a Sunshine State product \ growing up in Lakeland, starring at Florida State University and becoming the 17^th round draft pick of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.  In Tampa Bay, where outfield prospects spring eternal, Diaz could never earn an extended look with the big club.  Despite putting up big minor league batting averages in 2003 (.354) and 2004 (.332) , Rocco Baldelli, Carl Crawford, Randy Winn and Aubrey Huff blocked his ascent and limited him to just 30 major-league at-bats with Satan’s Rays.  Diaz did not impress in his limited opportunities and was released in 2004.

Diaz took his frustrations out on the Kansas City Royals’ minor league opponents, hitting .369 with 15 homers, and earned an 89 at-bat stint in The Show.  He was more respectable this time, but nonetheless failed to impress the Royals brass.  Now 27 years old, Diaz was beginning to resemble a Quad-A player, destined to spend a Crash Davis career dominating the minors.  But the fateful hand of John Schuerholz intervened, and Diaz was shipped to the Atlanta Braves for well-regarded never-was Ricardo Rodriguez.

Matt Diaz was quietly acquired and stealthily made the main squad.  In the summer of 2006, Matt Diaz truly became ours.  Platooning in left field with The Last Gasp of Former Big-Time Prospect Ryan Langerhans, Diaz gave lefties fits, smashing his way to a .465 average in May after a sluggish start.  With the stocky face of comic-book superhero and hard-working righty chop-stroke, the 28-year old Diaz quickly became the more excitable half of the platoon.  He finished the year at .327 in 297 at-bats, and then proved it was no fluke with a .338 average in 358 at-bats in 2007.  Injuries limited Diaz in 2008, but he returned in 2009 to hit .313 in 371 at-bats. 

Diaz’s run skidded to a halt in 2010, when he hit just .250 with a .313 on-base percentage.  Never a power hitter or a speedster, Diaz’s dip in productivity made him expendable.  When the Braves acquired second-baseman/ Dan Uggla from the Florida Marlins, super-utilityman Martin Prado was slated as the everyday left-fielder and Diaz’s fate was sealed.  The Pittsburgh Pirates grabbed Diaz with a two-year, $4.25 million contract to platoon in rightfield, and Diaz was gone.

Hark, tho, did fate intervene.  In 2011, the Braves, boasting the lowest average against left-handers of any team in the majors (a woeful .227, currently), reached to Pirates (early-season darlings fallen on hard times) and brought back their former son.  Miscast as an everyday player in a weak offense, Diaz still managed a .300 average against lefties.  He went 2-3 in his first game back, and has picked up right where he left off against southpaws.

In his previous tenure as a Brave, Diaz was a rock in a downtrodden era.  His run with Atlanta coincided with the team’s fall from glory; Diaz’s first season in Atlanta was the first non-National League East Champion squad in 14 years, his last was his only playoff appearance.  Diaz labored for mostly competitive yet postseason-less teams during his Atlanta tenure.  With career highs of 13 homers and 12 steals, Diaz was never flashy in the stats department; nor was he a defensive whiz.  He could take a walk, but Diaz mainly existed to get base-hits against left-handed starters.  Diaz was a flag-bearer of a distinctively un-emblematic era.  Those teams had few heroes; with Chipper Jones, Andruw Jones and John Smoltz far from peak form, prospects Chuck James, Jo-Jo Reyes and Jeff Francouer failing to deliver, and the Mark Teixeira trade casting a shadow over the future.  The Braves fought the good fight, with Bobby Cox scratching out what he could day-in and day-out.

On workman-like teams, Diaz was the shining crown of the blue-collar approach.  He’d worked his way slowly to the big leagues, and, when he arrived, gratefully accepted his role as a part-timer.  There were no All-Star aspirations, no fantasy stardom, no grandeur.  Diaz at-bats were rarely exciting, but they were tinged with optimism.  Line drive singles were Diaz’s bread-and-butter.  He wasn’t expected to win games, but he could do his part to help.  And when Green Man impersonators charged the field in Philly, he was there to trip them.

Diaz is not boring per say.  He seemed to only hit homeruns in pairs, and, in the on-deck circle, he is a haunting specter for lefty relievers.  He has just enough patience, pop and speed to keep from being “empty batting average.”  He possesses a supreme ability to hit left-handed pitchers, but the skill is not quite refined enough – nor is he one-dimensional enough – to label him as a specialist.  Diaz has never been special, but he has been consistently reliable.  He will not go down in the annals of Braves lore for particular moments or with especial reverie.  His .330 batting averages will be underappreciated.  His ample jaw and steadfast stroke may become blurred in the mental barrage of outfielders past.  But when we remember Matt Diaz, we will nod.  We will recall Matt Diaz being less effective than he really was, but no less reliable.  In our collective conscience (and in no way as pejorative), Matt Diaz is an everyman.  He is our everyman.  Don’t stop the Chop.