Pirates gamble on veteran arm with checkered past while Framber Valdez rumors swirl

The Pittsburgh Pirates on Wednesday announced a minor-league deal with Mike Clevinger, inviting the 35-year-old right-hander to Major League camp as a non-roster invitee.

On paper, there’s a résumé here. Clevinger has started 142 games in the majors, owns a career 3.55 ERA and a 60–44 record, and for a long stretch looked like a rotation mainstay. But context matters — and in Pittsburgh right now, context is everything.

Clevinger was designated for assignment by the Chicago White Sox in April after opening the 2025 season with a 7.94 ERA across five relief appearances. Once a durable starter, he spent last season entirely in the bullpen, and over his three separate stints with Chicago (December 2022, April 2024, February 2025), he went 9–14 with a 4.24 ERA across 28 starts and eight relief outings.

This is the type of move that lives squarely in the Pirates’ comfort zone: low-cost, low-commitment, and heavy on plausible deniability. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, it disappears quietly into the transaction wire by May.

But what makes this signing impossible to view in a vacuum is timing. Just hours earlier, reports surfaced that the Pirates were pivoting to pursue Framber Valdez, the biggest remaining name on the free-agent pitching market, after coming up empty in pursuits of Kyle Schwarber and Eugenio Suárez.

That contrast — Framber Valdez in the rumor mill, Mike Clevinger on a minor-league deal — says a lot about where this organization still is.

Pirates continue frustratingly familiar pattern, add Mike Clevinger on minor league deal

Valdez would represent a statement: a legitimate top-of-the-rotation lefty, an innings-eater, a playoff-caliber arm who would complement Paul Skenes and immediately elevate the ceiling of the entire roster. He would also require real money, real commitment, and real urgency.

Clevinger represents the opposite. He’s a hedge. Insurance. A flyer. A camp arm who might rediscover something, might shift back into a swingman role, or might simply soak up spring innings until the inevitable roster crunch arrives.

The Pirates will tell you there’s room for both ideas to coexist — that signing a non-roster veteran doesn’t preclude a bigger move. Technically, that’s true. Practically, Pirates fans have seen this movie before.

For years, “depth signings” have quietly become substitutes for ambition. Minor-league deals turn into Opening Day contributors. Low-risk bets become Plan A by default. And when the bigger move doesn’t materialize, the fallback suddenly becomes the plan.

There’s also the uncomfortable reality that Clevinger’s on-field questions aren’t the only ones attached to his name. Clevinger was investigated by MLB in early 2023 for allegations of domestic violence and child abuse involving his partner and their infant daughter. The league ultimately chose not to impose discipline.

Still, context matters—and the Pirates keep acting like it doesn’t. This is an organization that has repeatedly signed players with documented off-field issues, then acted surprised when fans react with frustration or outright anger. Each individual case gets waved away as isolated. At some point, the pattern becomes the headline.

If you’re going to test the limits of goodwill, you’d better be delivering something tangible on the field. Clevinger isn’t that. He’s not a missing piece. He’s not even a stabilizer. He’s a flyer.

The Pirates have already drawn scrutiny in recent seasons for their tolerance of reputational risk, and adding another veteran with a checkered recent track record only invites more of the same criticism — especially when the organization is simultaneously struggling to convince fans it’s serious about winning now.

None of this is to say Clevinger can’t help the Pirates. In a best-case scenario, he looks healthy, flashes some of his old stuff, and provides useful innings in a rotation or long-relief role. On a minor-league deal, that’s defensible baseball logic.

But when paired with yet another offseason defined by missed bats, missed opportunities, and “almosts,” it also feels familiar in the most frustrating way.

If the Pirates truly intend to chase Valdez — not just leak interest, not just kick tires, but actually close — then the Clevinger signing becomes a footnote. A depth move. A shrug. If they don’t? Then this looks like another quiet pivot away from boldness, dressed up as flexibility.

And Pirates fans know how that story usually ends.