For five seasons, the Cleveland Guardians summoned Emmanuel Clase and his 100-mph cutter to handle the ninth inning of any game in doubt. A camera operator would trail behind him as he strolled down the steps to the bullpen door in center field, then display his dramatic entrance on the scoreboard, which lit up with digital flames.

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Clase would reach the mound, turn his back to home plate, place his glove to his face and recite a prayer to express his gratitude for the opportunity. Stitched onto that glove, in gold script, was “La Kabra,” or “The Goat.” If anything, he had confidence.

When he recorded an out, he circled the mound like a lion stalking its dinner. He was the final boss. He had closer aura. One glance at Clase and you could surmise that he threw hard and wanted to extinguish hitters’ souls.

He usually did.

Clase led the American League in saves for three consecutive seasons. He registered a career ERA of 1.88. He made three All-Star teams and received the ninth-inning assignment in the two he attended. In 2024, he achieved the best Cy Young Award finish for a reliever in 16 years. He twice won the Mariano Rivera Award as the AL’s top reliever.

But beyond the hardware and gaudy numbers, members of the organization felt they barely knew the second-longest-tenured Guardian. He was too lax about timeliness, too difficult to reach during the offseason and too disconnected to get to know on a deep l

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