In a Realm torn by WAR and whispers, one Blazer must decide the fate of the Redbirds before the deadline bell tolls…
I set out to write something thoughtful about the trade deadline—really, I did. I even read this ESPN article on deadline targets by Kiley McDaniel and Jeff Passan and considered doing a real, grown-up analysis of the St. Louis Cardinals’ options.
But then I remembered: we’ve all read seventeen versions of the same trade speculation piece already this summer, and also—I’m just out here vibing. Hopefully it goes without saying that I just made up what you are about to read as a means to discuss the Cardinals’ three most compelling (and narratively volatile) trade candidates and these don’t reflect extremely likely possibilities.
So instead of ranking prospects or proposing deals by FanGraphs surplus value, I did the only thing that felt right:
I wrote a Choose Your Own Adventure book.
You are John Mozeliak. You wear the Crisp Blue Blazer. You stand at the Deadline Bastion. Your decisions will shape the Realm.
May your bullpen be resilient and your trade returns narratively satisfying.
> Turn to page 1… if you dare.*
(a little hint, if you actually do plan on completing this adventure is to do a Find for the page number.)
Page 1: Mo at the Crossroads
You are Mo of House Mozeliak, Whisperer of Contracts, Lord Executive of the Redbirds Realm. The sands of July slip through the hourglass. The people clamor. The council mutters. The time of decision is nigh.
Will you stay the course, trade your champions, or surrender to the swirling mists of Deadline Madness™?
> Turn to page 3 to survey your roster of allies.
> Turn to page 7 to retreat into a press conference filled with riddles and cryptic scrollwork.
Page 3: Meet Your Party
- Sir Ryan of Helsley, bearer of the Fiery Arm and frequent visitor to the Temple of Soft Tissue Inflammation.
- Lord Arenado of the Sapphire Glove, third in name, first in WAR, yet haunted by whispers of exile.
- Fedde the Once Forgotten, exile of the Eastern Reaches now reborn under the Arch. His contract is reasonable. His ERA, mysterious.
> Turn to page 4.
Page 4: The Crossroads of Decision
You have gathered your champions. Some weary. Some wary. All bound by trade whispers and WAR. The trade winds stir.
Before you rise three paths—each marked not by road, but by riddle, rumor, and the shimmer of Baseball-Reference scrolls.
> To ride with Sir Helsley and face the summons of the Phillies, turn to Page 5.
>To consult with Lord Arenado, whose whispers reach even the Emerald Realm, turn to Page 9.
> To follow the fortunes of Fedde the Reforged, turn to Page 11.
Page 5: The Fire-Hearted One Beckons
You ride at dawn to the Bullpen Keep, where Sir Helsley of the Flaming Sinew sharpens his wrath. A raven from the East arrives—its wax seal shaped like a Liberty Bell. The Phillies summon you with urgent whispers.
“Deliver us the Fire-Hearted Knight,” it reads, “and we shall bestow upon thee: a princeling of the Double-A realm, a left-handed bard who sings of launch angles, and coin enough to mend thine rotation wounds.”
You dismount. You pace the chamber. The weight of the Realm presses upon your shoulders.
Do you…
Accept the Offer
> Turn to page 12.
Decline the Offer, Keep the Knight
> Turn to page 8.
Counter: Demand the Prized Mage Mick of Abel
> Turn to page 19.
Page 7: The Chamber of Infinite Spin
You descend the marble stairs to the Hall of Echoes, where scribes and scrollkeepers from all across the Realm have gathered. The torches flicker nervously. A podium awaits—its seal emblazoned with a crimson bird mid-flight.
You clear your throat and don the ceremonial Crimson Blazer of Media Evasion.
“Good afternoon,” you begin. “We’re always looking to improve, but we’re also comfortable with the group we have.” The scrollmasters tilt their heads. Somewhere, a bard faints.
Do you…
Answer Only in Vague Allegories
> Turn to Page 10
Unleash a Cryptic One-Liner That Spawns a Thousand Blog Posts
> Turn to Page 22
Deny All and Summon a Fog Spell
> Turn to Page 16
Page 8: Decline the Offer, Keep the Knight
Helsley remains. In July, he strikes out five Mets using only one pitch. The Market of Trades begins to shrink, yet you feel the bullpen chant your name in hushed reverence. You have chosen loyalty. Or perhaps fear.
In August, the elbow whispers again.
Chaos Meter: 7 Fan Reaction: “He better be extended like… yesterday.” Trade Grade: Unrated. The people require hindsight.
> Turn to page 29
Page 9: The Whispering of Arenado
You awake to the sound of clinking chainmail and clattering cleats. A murmur echoes across the realm: “The Lord of the Hot Corner may ride again—this time, from the West.”
Noble Arenado of the Sapphire Glove, stalwart defender of the Line Called Foul, stands at the crossroads. His contract is ironclad, yet the lands of Seattle and Los Angeles speak his name in shadow and smoke.
You gather your council. The scribes bring forth scrolls of WAR and wRC+. The bards sing of leadership intangible. But you—Mo the Resolute—must choose.
Do you…
Trade Him to the Mariners
> Turn to Page 18
Stand Tall, Refuse All Offers
> Turn to Page 13
Trade Talks Leak—but You Do Nothing
> Turn to Page 21
Page 10: Answer Only in Vague Allegories
You speak of “roster flexibility,” “internal evaluations,” and “alignment with long-term vision.” The scrollkeepers nod slowly, unsure whether to quote you or decode you.
You reveal nothing, and yet… they feel strangely compelled. The Cardinals’ beat writers spend the next three fortnights debating whether “high-leverage upside” refers to Helsley, JoJo Romero, or, somehow, the return of Trevor Rosenthal.
Chaos Meter: 6.3 Fan Reaction: “What does it mean, Mo??” Effect: You gain 1d4 obfuscation points.
> Turn to page 30.
Page 11: Fedde, the Wanderer Returned
Once cast from the Capital Kingdom and exiled to the Eastern Diamondlands, Erick of Fedde has returned reborn, armored in command and wit, with an ERA kissed by the gods (or at least the BABIP sprites). Some call it a fluke. Others call it sorcery. You know only this: he is affordable, effective, and drawing suitors from many far kingdoms.
The scrolls from the Plains of Kansas City speak in hushed tones. The Guild of Orioles convenes in secrecy. Even the Angels stir.
The Blazer warms.
Trade Him to Baltimore, Realm of the Feathered Youth
> Turn to Page 17
Hold Him for One More Mooncycle
> Turn to Page 15
Trade Him to the Angels, Because Who Cares
> Turn to Page 23
Page 12: Accept the Offer
You send Sir Helsley eastward, swaddled in red and white. In his stead, you welcome Orion the Flameborn (ERA: 2.56, Velo: “eye-watering”), a bard with a 97-mph fastball and a satchel of speculative dreams.
The people weep—for they remember the Helsley Wars of ‘22—but in three fortnights, young Orion earns his first Save Scroll. Hope blooms.
Chaos Meter: 5 Fan Reaction: “This is fine… I think?” Trade Grade: B+, but you squint at it and wonder, “Is it A-?”
> Turn to page 24.
Page 13: Stand Tall, Refuse All Offers
Lord Arenado remains. He scowls in interviews but casually drops two doubles and a backhanded web gem every other game. The lineup steadies. Whispers subside—until winter, when the Dodgers come bearing tampering scrolls.
Chaos Meter: 5.6 Fan Reaction: “The bat is slowing… but he’s ours.” Result: Deadline momentum… neutralized.
> Turn to page 24.
Page 15: Hold Him for One More Mooncycle
You gamble. You gaze into the orb of Second Half Projections and see a whisper of regression. Yet Fedde holds. He wins three straight duels while your scouts court winter’s prey.
In December, his value has risen like enchanted stock. The Realm awaits your next move.
Chaos Meter: 4.3 Fan Reaction: “Is this… competent asset management??” Your Inner Monologue: “I am strategist, whisperer of value.”
> Turn to page 24.
Page 16: Deny All and Summon a Fog Spell
You raise your hand. A puff of smoke engulfs the room. When it clears, you’re gone. In your place: a laminated copy of the 2025 WAR projections and a business card that reads “Value Wizard.”
The press is furious. The fans are delighted. You trend on RealmTwitter under #SmokeAndMozeliak.
Chaos Meter: 9.7 Fan Reaction: “He escaped again. Legend.” Effect: Your next transaction gains +2 media resistance.
> Turn to page 30.
Page 17: Trade Him to Baltimore, Realm of the Feathered Youth
You send Fedde east, in return for:
- A high-contact infielder with a penchant for mischief,
- A minor-league reliever with terrifying whiff rates and no concept of the strike zone,
- And a conditional scroll labeled “Player to Be Named Later, Perhaps Never.”
Fedde thrives, becoming the Orioles’ Game 2 starter in October. Your own rotation? Patchworked—but promising.
Chaos Meter: 6.8 Fan Reaction: “Honestly… decent value.” Analytic Scrolls Say: The trade models approve, but the clubhouse bard writes a sad song anyway.
> Turn to page 25.
Page 18: Trade Him to the Mariners
You send your Sapphire Knight to the Emerald Realm in exchange for:
- A rangy shortstop of prospect lore,
- A fireballing youth with command issues (read: “projectable upside”),
- And a pact to absorb coin enough to fund several pitching scrolls come winter.
Narrative Cost: You yield the face of the Reclamation. Return: The rebuild quickens. The air smells faintly of 2026. Chaos Meter: 8.2 Fan Reaction: An unholy fusion of “this had to happen” and “how dare you.”
> Turn to page 27.
Page 19: Counter: Demand the Prized Mage Mick of Abel
You scribble your terms and bind them to the raven. But the beast returns, unburdened. The Phillies have ghosted you. Somewhere, an intern releases a vague rumor to Jon Heyman. You are unfriended.
Sir Helsley tilts his head and asks, “So… am I still pitching tonight?”
Chaos Meter: 9 Fan Reaction: “Mo cooked too close to the sun.” Trade Grade: ??!?!?!
> Turn to page 30.
Page 20: The Mage Unclaimed
You reached too far. You dared to ask for the Prized Mage—Mick of Abel, wielder of the 2.21 ERA in AAA in 2024 and heir to the Rotation of the Future. The Phillies, flush with arms and ambition, recoiled. No scroll returned. No raven replied.
The Realm whispers of hubris. Helsley remains, confused but flamethrowing. The bullpen holds—for now. But the trade window closes with a sigh, not a flourish.
The fans? They meme. The scribes? They speculate. You? You wonder if you should’ve just asked for the Bard Prospect with the funky delivery.
Final Quote: “We aimed for the ace and got ghosted.” Chaos Meter: 8.8 (spiked by ghosted DMs) Blazer Condition: Slightly scorched. Smells of ambition and regret.
Page 21: Trade Talks Leak—but You Do Nothing
Inaction breeds its own storm. On Deadline Eve, a well-timed leak suggests Arenado has approved a trade… only for it to never materialize. The player returns. The fans fume. The forums combust.
Narrative Cost: Trust, shaken. Future leverage, compromised. Chaos Meter: 9.7 Fan Reaction: A storm of sarcasm and tinfoil theories. Outcome: No trade. No peace. But many, many memes.
> Turn to page 26.
Page 22: Unleash a Cryptic One-Liner That Spawns a Thousand Blog Posts
You lean in and say, “Deadlines are constructs. Value is eternal.”
The room falls silent. A squirrel scampers by. Somewhere, a gif is born.
The press disperses, stunned. One reporter swears your blazer briefly shimmered with runes.
Chaos Meter: 8.9 Fan Reaction: A mix of awe and confusion. Reddit explodes. Effect: You delay scrutiny… but only for now.
> Turn to page 30.
Page 23: Trade Him to the Angels, Because Who Cares
In a move that inspires the phrase “sure, I guess,” you send Fedde west for a lefty reliever with club options and an outfielder whose best skill is Spotify playlists.
The Realm is… confused.
Fedde fades under California suns. The reliever posts a 5.02 ERA. The outfielder becomes a TikTok favorite among Gen-Z scribes. You are left to explain it all with a smile that hides 10,000 regrets.
Chaos Meter: 9.2 Fan Reaction: “We traded what for why?” Scrollkeepers Say: This trade will be taught in bard schools—as cautionary tale.
> Turn to page 31.
Page 24: The Path of Glory
You made the trades with foresight and cunning. Helsley fetched firepower. Arenado was kept, his glove flashing like lightning across the diamond. Fedde held firm until his value bloomed like a midsummer mirage.
The new youth flourish. A reliever called “The Vortex” debuts to roaring horns. You find yourself once again at the Trade Bastion, but this time—not as a desperate craftsman—but as a conjurer of hope.
The Redbirds rally in August, surge in September, and… no one says it aloud… but they believe.
Final Quote: “This deadline didn’t just save the season. It redeemed the Realm.” Chaos Meter: 3.2 (stabilized by back-end rotation depth) Blazer Condition: Dry-cleaned and revered.
Page 25: The Path of Glory (Scrolls Unfurled Edition)
You made the trades with clarity and courage. Helsley was dealt for flame and future; Arenado remained, his glare hardening into leadership once more. And Fedde—yes, even Fedde—was sent eastward, his value harvested like midsummer wheat.
In his place came arms with upside and scrolls with strange names, prospects whose stats glittered like undiscovered runes. One, nicknamed “The Vortex,” debuts with a 92 mph cutter and the confidence of a bard. Another outfielder swipes bases and hearts with equal flair.
You stand at the Trade Bastion again—but now as an architect of outcomes, not merely their spectator.
The Redbirds rise. The Realm believes.
Final Quote: “From Fedde to fortune… we chose the risk, and the Realm remembers.” Chaos Meter: 3.6 (offset by bullpen rejuvenation scrolls) Blazer Condition: Spotless. Slightly enchanted.
Page 26: The Path of Regret
You waited. The offers were not ideal. You stood tall. The deadline passed.
Helsley’s elbow whispered again. Arenado scowled through an OPS drought. Fedde turned into a pumpkin. The fans turned… not against you exactly, but inward. Into a scroll of “what-ifs.”
You hold a press conference. You say “we liked our guys,” but even you don’t believe it this time.
A squirrel invades the press room. It’s the most exciting part of the deadline.
Final Quote: “We felt the deals didn’t reflect our valuation models.” Chaos Meter: 4.7 (low-grade dread) Blazer Condition: Moth-eaten, threadbare… sentimental.
Page 27: The Emerald Reckoning
The Sapphire Knight rides west, his glove gleaming one last time beneath the Arch. In his stead arrive the heirs of promise: a shortstop with hands like whispers and a fireballer whose fastball bends time but not always the strike zone. The Mariners take the present. You claim the future.
The Realm mourns—but also watches. The new shortstop debuts in September, turning double plays with a grin that stings and soothes. The fireballer walks four in his first outing, then strikes out six in his second. The coin saved is spent wisely—or so the scrollkeepers say.
The people do not cheer. But they nod. And in the quiet, something stirs.
Result: The farm system glows like a prophecy fulfilled. Final Quote: “We traded a cornerstone… to build a cathedral.” Chaos Meter: 7.9 (stabilized by prospect glow) Blazer Condition: Weathered, but respected. Folded neatly beside a scouting report titled “Emerson, Colt.”
Page 28: The Path of Glory (The Fire-Hearted Remains)
You held the line. Helsley stayed, his arm still kissed by flame and chaos. Arenado stood firm, his glove a sapphire sentinel. Fedde was dealt with precision, his value transmuted into scrolls of promise and a bard who hits .287 against lefties.
The Realm did not rebuild—it rearmed. Helsley closed games with fury and flair. The bullpen, once a question, became a weapon. The new arrivals filled gaps like prophecy. And the Blazer? It shimmered beneath the press room lights.
The Redbirds surged. The Realm dared to dream.
Final Quote: “We kept the fire. We traded the fog. And we found our way.” Chaos Meter: 2.9 (stabilized by Helsley’s 0.89 WHIP) Blazer Condition: Pressed, polished, and whispered about in rival kingdoms.
Page 29: The Fire You Kept
You chose loyalty. Or maybe you just couldn’t bear the optics of trading the Realm’s most volatile weapon. Either way, Sir Helsley remained—and for a time, he dazzled. The ninth inning became theater. The Realm held its breath with every pitch.
But in August, the whispers returned. The elbow stirred. Helsley missed ten days, then returned with diminished flame but undiminished flair. He saved what he could. He blew a few. He stared into the camera after each outing like a knight who’s seen too much.
The Realm did not rise. But it did not fall, either. You kept the fire. You paid the price.
Final Quote: “We believed in our guys. And we still do. Mostly.” Chaos Meter: 6.5 (fluctuates with Helsley’s WHIP) Blazer Condition: Wrinkled, but defiant. Smells faintly of rosin and regret.
Page 30: The Path of Magic
You trade for a switch-pitcher. You flip Fedde for a prospect named Chauncey DeDividend. You trade for Arenado somehow—again. No one is sure how that works. Helsley is briefly designated “acting manager” after an umpire blunder. The team begins winning when they install a disco ball in the dugout.
A squirrel again invades the infield—but this time, it’s wearing a jersey. Number 99. He is a big So Taguchi fan. His WAR is estimated at 0.8, driven entirely by morale.
The team makes the playoffs. No one understands how. They call it the “Mojo Mo Run.”
Final Quote: “We’re just out here vibing.” – Lars Nootbaar Chaos Meter: 13.4 (off the scale) Blazer Condition: Embroidered with sparkles. Sentient.
Page 31: The Blazer’s Burden
The scrolls are signed. The trade is done. You stare into the middle distance as the Realm tries to make sense of it all.
The lefty reliever flashes promise, then walks three straight batters with a four-run lead. The outfielder posts a .212 OBP but curates a playlist so transcendent it’s featured in a Ken Burns documentary about vibes.
Fedde, meanwhile, finds himself again in Anaheim. He posts a 3.41 ERA, then disappears into the Pacific mist like a man who knew too much.
You hold a press conference. You say “we liked the upside.” The scribes nod. The fans do not.
Final Quote: “We made a move. It was… a move.” Chaos Meter: 9.5 (elevated by playlist discourse) Blazer Condition: Rumpled. Smells faintly of citrus and second-guessing.
Whether you emerged a triumphant architect of contention, a reluctant keeper of fading stars, or the accidental harbinger of squirrel-fueled playoff magic, your legend is written into the scrolls of Cardinaldom.
Until the next deadline, traveler… may your returns be fair, your fanbase forgiving, and your bullpen FIP be blessedly stable.
Happy Sund