This story was excerpted from Keegan Matheson’s Blue Jays Beat newsletter. To read the full newsletter, click here. And subscribe to get it regularly in your inbox.

On the final Sunday of Spring Training, I spent one last lazy afternoon at the Blue Jays’ complex in Dunedin waiting to speak with Ricky Tiedemann. 

The Blue Jays’ No. 1 prospect, according to MLB Pipeline, had just pitched in a High-A game, his first steps back from a minor shoulder issue earlier in camp, and he was finishing up his arm care routine. The true glamour of covering baseball, though, is the time spent waiting. It becomes an art form of its own. 

While I waited on Tiedemann, I leaned behind the cage at Field 1 -- carefully finding the only strip of shade available -- and watched Kevin Gausman burn through a lineup of Yankees Single-A players. Gausman pitched in this Minor League game to get him better lined up for Game 2 of the regular season, and while Single-A hitters provided enough of a challenge to make Gausman’s time worthwhile, it looked like a video game at times. 

This game was using the pitch timer, counting down on a big board above the outfield fence for all to see. About two-dozen Minor League players crowded the steel bleachers on the Blue Jays’ side, some to watch Gausman and others to watch their fellow top prospects and soon-to-be teammates.

At one point, a Yankees Single-A hitter was late getting set in the box in a two-strike count. As the clock flipped from “:09” to :08”, a voice rang out from the bleachers. 

“Strike three!” they yelled. “That’s a punchie, let’s go!”

When I looked to my right, I saw Alek Manoah. He was dressed in his trademark sleeveless shirt, surrounded by Minor Leaguers. One row above him was Bo Bichette.

A half-dozen times through Gausman’s outing, they’d walk over behind the cage and chat with Pete Walker, asking about Gausman’s velocity or a specific pitch. Five weeks into Spring Training with Opening Day right around the corner, Manoah and Bichette had every right to be home by 2 p.m. that day, or at least kicked back in a recliner in the players' lounge.

Instead, they watched Gausman mow through a lineup of 19 and 20-year-olds, each gaining a better understanding for the co-ace of the staff.

There’s been so much written and said about the Blue Jays’ maturation, their focus and their attention to detail. These things are difficult to define in baseball terms, and much like a “team culture” or good nickname, they can’t be forced. It’s moments like this one, though, that get me a few steps closer to understanding what they mean. 

You stumble upon some valuable things while you wait in this job. It’s all about positioning, as they say. 

It’s also helped me better understand the three most tangible ways this team has evolved:

Defense: We knew that swapping Teoscar Hernández and Lourdes Gurriel Jr. for Daulton Varsho and Kevin Kiermaier would improve the defense, but to see it live is more impressive than I’d expected. 

“They’re amazing," Manoah said. "Their first step is really a difference-maker. It kind of feels like they’re moving before the ball is even hit.”

Baserunning: Kevin Kiermaier’s hustle double in Thursday’s win over the Royals looked so foreign in a Blue Jays jersey. We’d seen it before, but against the Blue Jays. Varsho has made some exceptional plays on the bases, too, along with Matt Chapman and Cavan Biggio. It’s hard to appreciate good baserunning until you see it… and you’re seeing it.

The Old Vlad: Can there be an “old” version of a 24-year-old? Regardless, Guerrero’s turning back the clock in a good way. After admitting to being “anxious” at the plate in 2022, trying to recreate his incredible ’21 season, you’re finally seeing a hitter who is breathing again.

What made Guerrero special as a prospect was not his power. He was a hitter first, with a brilliant plate approach and eye for the strike zone. His power took him from great to elite, but when Guerrero is at his best, it’s about being smarter than the pitcher, not stronger. The monster is waking up again.