Joey Votto is finally ready to meet you

One July evening in Milwaukee, Joey Votto got his revenge.

Votto, the Cincinnati Reds first baseman, had seen a segment weeks earlier from broadcaster Chris Russo, known as Mad Dog, in which he expressed doubt that he and Royals pitcher Zack Greinke belonged in the Hall of Fame. Now that he had the chance to confront Russo during an appearance on MLB Network’s “High Heat,” Votto had something special planned.

Votto stood on a dirt lot, wearing a headset and staring into a dugout camera. When Russo’s co-host, Alanna Rizzo, asked a question, Votto smiled and responded in an engaging manner. When it was Russo’s turn, Votto could only muster a few gruff syllables. Russo caught on quickly: “Funny! You’re funny today” — prompting Votto to launch into a minute-long tirade fit for a professional wrestler.

With sweeping hand gestures and a rising tone, Votto attacked Russo’s perceived disdain for him and Greinke. “You look down on us, a bunch of small-market MiddleWest ball players, just because we’re not a big city like you! Votto gave a lecture. His eyes widened as he criticized Russo’s “Fifth Avenue ties” and “perfectly coiffed Broadway hair.”

And then the climax. “Not everybody can be the next Roger Peckinpaugh!” Votto yelled, grabbing a good-not-great former Yankee in the dead-ball era. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

The tirade, which Votto and Reds sideline reporter Jim Day had been practicing for weeks — including on the team plane, confusing quite a few Reds personnel — went viral: One of baseball’s funniest characters had had his say once again.

Votto, 40, who only embraced social media in March 2020, now routinely posts content to an audience of more than 300,000 followers between Instagram and X, formerly known as Twitter. Like his ambush of Russo, Votto’s posts are carefully conceived and executed.

Last winter, he posed in a flashy designer outfit—puffy vest, furry jumpsuit, expensive sunglasses, all bought for the occasion—before competing in a chess tournament in Toronto. In June, just before returning from shoulder surgery, he debuted with a sketch of himself behind the wheel of a school bus in Cincinnati, as a student chastised him for getting back on the court.

It is not surprising that Votto, who hit a home run on Sunday upon his return from the injured list, approaches social media with foresight and planning. He has long been known as one of the game’s most accurate players. What’s new is his willingness to put any energy into it at all. For years he led his career as an ascetic, devoting himself solely to the task of swinging a club. “He was so focused on his job as a baseball player,” said Zack Cozart, a teammate in Cincinnati for seven seasons, “that it was almost like he didn’t have time for anything else.”

Votto remains as dedicated to his craft as ever, although lingering shoulder issues have hampered his production this year. But now, with his career in the final decline, Votto has loosened up a bit.

Everything changed, Votto said, after the 2017 season.

It had been a great year. At 33, he had played in every game, led the league in on-base percentage and finished second in voting for the National League’s Most Valuable Player Award. But he wasn’t happy. The Reds were rebuilding, and many of his best teammates — Cozart, Jay Bruce, Johnny Cueto — had been sent packing. He was less than halfway through a 10-year, $225 million contract extension — a pricey piece of furniture left behind because the movers couldn’t get it out the door.

“I felt very isolated,” Votto said. “Friends at home had children and teammates went elsewhere. I was just a little tired because I didn’t feel like I could be myself.

To expand his world beyond the 80 square feet of the batter’s box—being himself had always taken some effort—he hired a Spanish teacher, took up chess and learned jiu-jitsu. “I’m not a man with any talent other than what I do in the batter’s box,” Votto said. “There’s no doubt about that.” Those who have witnessed his comedic timing or listened to him speak Spanish or French might disagree, but Votto sees those things as outlets, not skills. “All of those things make me feel like I’m not just one thing,” he said, “because I’m just one thing.”

That paradox — his steely devotion to baseball and his surprising number of interests outside of it — made Votto a mysterious baseball man. He was polite to new teammates, but hardly sociable.

Cozart recalled a sobering assessment from Votto early in his MLB days. “If you hit balls like that,” Votto said after watching Cozart repeatedly hit the top of the batting cage, “you have no chance of playing in this league.” It was a splash of ice water for Cozart – ‘That’s Joey Votto telling me I’m terrible,’ he thought – but he quickly recognized it as Votto’s way of helping him. Cozart now considers Votto one of his favorite teammates. In 2017, Cozart’s last as a Red, Votto fulfilled a public promise by buying the shortstop a donkey when he was named an All-Star.

The donkey episode showed off Votto’s personality, as did a hit 2014 episode he did for MLB Network, where he dressed as a Mountie, a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. (Votto was born in Canada.) But the idea of ​​Joey Votto, a social media star, would have been laughable to most who knew him at the time.

“There were moments of, ‘No, I’m not going to bother him today,'” said Day, who has followed Votto throughout his career. “I could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk.”

If Votto is feeling playful right now, Day is one of his favorite foils.

As he grew older, Votto also became more comfortable as a joker.

A day earlier this year, Reds prospect Matt McLain stood in the clubhouse of the Class AAA Louisville Bats and began criticizing the chess game. Behind him, unnoticed, was Votto, who was at the club on a rehabilitation assignment. Votto could have objected and put the minor leaguer in his place, but instead he laughed and took McLain in for a joke.

He set up a secret camera to record a chess match between himself and infielder Alex McGarry. In the resulting video, the match is in full swing when McLain walks by and defiantly slams all the pieces to the ground. McLain said McGarry was not involved and that his initial anger was genuine. But most people got the joke, which Votto assured was aimed at himself.

McLain is now one of a number of young players driving a Reds team hoping to claim one of the National League’s three wildcard spots in the play-offs. They are a team with so much young talent that something that was once so difficult to imagine – a bright future for the Reds without Votto – is now easy to see.

Instead of being left behind, Votto is determined to fit in.

That means learning the rhythms of a generation of players who are less snappy and more serious than his. The blunt, distant thing doesn’t land.

“You can’t be that stubborn old guy in the locker room and then all these young guys look at you like, ‘That guy’s a grumpy old man,’” Cozart said. “He’s trying to be hip again.”

That potential for these Reds reinforces what draws Votto to the game. “I like the challenge, I like the participation, I like feeling valuable, like I’m a helpful piece of the puzzle,” Votto said. “That’s why I still think there’s something left.”

There had been times when he had doubted that. One day before he sat in the dugout for an interview in Phoenix earlier this season, he had suffered a major blow. His left shoulder, which had required surgery midway through last season and cost him much of it, had forced him to return to the IL. The timing was unfavorable. Votto is in the final guaranteed year of his contract — the Reds have a $20 million option for next season, with a $7 million buyout — and with less than a month of games left, it seemed at the time possibly that he had played his last match. one as red.

In 51 games between his two IL stints this year, he had hit just .200 with a .303 on-base percentage. Cincinnati is brimming with young talent and could decide to move on.

That latest setback brought thoughts of retirement, Votto admitted. “There were times when I thought, ‘Should I quit? Should I get ahead of everyone else?'” he said. But a recent conversation with his mother brought clarity. He worked his way back onto the field and hopes to be a Red for life.

If the Reds decide otherwise, he gets it. “I’ve loved every second of it here,” he said. “Really. Even in the cold times it was an honor.” Whatever happens, Votto insists he’s not done yet.

“This is the first time in my career that I realize I love my job,” he said.

After twenty years as a professional, focusing entirely on baseball, Votto is only now starting to enjoy it.

In Cincinnati, Votto is an icon, a label he wouldn’t give himself but has learned to embrace. Sharing more of himself — and autographed memorabilia, which he hides around Cincinnati while leaving clues to his whereabouts on social media — is Votto’s way of giving back that love. “All I really want to do is give,” he said. “I’ve taken so much.”

But he’s not an open book. Votto remains protective of his privacy, and though he discussed his father’s 2008 death on social media last year, he has little interest in unpacking that or any other chapter of his personal life for the public. He will share his persona—more comfortably than many would have predicted—but he also looks wistfully toward the day when he will fade into anonymity.

“I really fantasize about this,” he said. “I dream of playing my last game and just kind of closing it all off: saying goodbye to social media, saying goodbye to the media, and just walking away. Like I’m done. I’m done with baseball, done with the public eye.”

It’s not here yet, but the day is coming. For now, he’s content with just being a small-time player from the Midwest. Enjoy him while you can.