Pirates may have just traded for the next version of their biggest headache

The Pittsburgh Pirates didn’t just acquire raw power when they landed Jhostynxon Garcia in an offseason deal with the Boston Red Sox. They acquired a familiar dilemma.

Garcia is the kind of hitter scouts dream on and coaches lose sleep over. Plus-plus raw power. Violent bat speed. A swing built to lift the baseball into orbit. He led Boston’s farm system in home runs in back-to-back seasons because he wants to do damage—and does it often. Add weight, add strength, add confidence, and suddenly the ball is leaving the yard in a hurry.

But that same aggressiveness is also the red flag flapping in the wind.

Advanced pitching chewed Garcia up. A 34.2% strikeout rate at Triple-A. Whiffs on nearly half his swings during a brief big-league look. Pitchers learned they didn’t need to challenge him; they could let him get himself out. The power is real. The contact is optional.

Sound familiar? It should. Because Pirates fans have lived this movie before –– in fact, they're living it currently –– with Oneil Cruz.

Jhostynxon Garcia fits a boom-or-bust profile Pittsburgh knows too well

Cruz has spent years walking the razor’s edge between superstar and frustration factory. When he squares a ball, few humans hit it harder. When pitchers spin him into oblivion, the strikeouts pile up fast. The Pirates have poured resources into refining his swing decisions, shortening his two-strike approach, and helping him identify pitches he can actually do something with.

Sometimes it works beautifully. Other times, it doesn’t. And the margin for error is always thin.

Garcia is cut from that same cloth—just at a different defensive spot. He’s a solid corner outfielder, and left-handed, which gives him immediate utility as a platoon masher. But the ceiling question is identical: can the Pirates help him choose when to swing?

The Pirates clearly believe they can fix—or at least tame—Garcia’s approach. Improve swing decisions. Teach selective aggression. Get him hunting pitches he can launch instead of flailing at anything that spins. It’s the same mission statement they’ve repeated with Cruz, just repackaged in a different body. And that’s where the unease creeps in.

If the Pirates crack this code, Garcia could be a lineup-altering bat: a lefty power threat who punishes mistakes and forces pitchers into the zone. If they don’t, he becomes another case study in untapped upside—another reminder that raw power without discipline is a blunt instrument.

This wasn’t an accident. The Pirates knew exactly what they were trading for. They targeted upside. They targeted volatility. They targeted a player who could be special—or maddening—depending on whether he learns to lay off just one more pitch per at-bat.

Cruz is already in the majors, carrying expectations and pressure. Garcia arrives earlier in the process, with fewer scars and more room to mold. If Pittsburgh has learned anything from its ongoing Cruz experiment, this is where that knowledge has to show up.

Because if Garcia figures it out, this move looks brilliant. If he doesn’t, Pirates fans will recognize the symptoms immediately—and they’ll know exactly how this story tends to end.