By @MLBatMat | @FenwayFaithless | A Couch King Sports Network Blog | April 29, 2026
Red Sox Nation, welcome to The Hot Corner. Every week, we’re coming in hot with the takes the Boston media won’t give you. No sugarcoating. No corporate spin. Just a die-hard Sox fan living behind enemy lines in New York City, telling you exactly how it is.
And what better way to kick things off than the long-overdue departure of Alex Cora?
Last Saturday, hours after the Red Sox steamrolled Baltimore 17-1, their best offensive output of the season. Hours later, the organization finally did what it should have done months ago. They fired Cora, along with hitting coach Peter Fatse, bench coach Ramón Vázquez, third base coach Kyle Hudson, and multiple other staff members. Even Jason Varitek got reassigned. The entire dugout got swept clean. GOOD.
The record at the time of the axe? A putrid 10-17, dead last in the AL East. Last in the majors in home runs. 26th in OPS. 20th in runs scored. This wasn’t just a slow start. This was a team that had completely given up, and it started at the top.
Let’s Get This Out of the Way: The Cheating
I’m not going to belabor this point, but we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. Alex Cora was dubbed the ringleader of the Houston Astros’ sign-stealing scandal that tainted the 2017 World Series — one of the most disgraceful episodes in the history of a sport already scarred by cheating. He received a one-year suspension alongside A.J. Hinch, and then, for reasons that still baffle me, John Henry brought him right back. We welcomed a confirmed cheater back into our dugout with open arms. That should have been the end of the story, but the Red Sox just couldn’t quit the guy.
Fine. He came back. So let’s judge him on what he did when he returned.
2018 Was the Team, Not the Manager
Yes, Alex Cora won the World Series in 2018. Yes, that team went 108-54 and steamrolled through October at 11-3. It was one of the greatest seasons in Red Sox history.
But let’s be honest with ourselves: that roster was absurd. Mookie Betts. J.D. Martinez. Xander Bogaerts. Chris Sale. David Price. Andrew Benintendi. A young Rafael Devers. That team was winning the World Series with or without Alex Cora calling the shots. My sister could have filled out that lineup card and gone 100-plus wins. I’m not trying to completely strip him of credit, but let’s stop pretending he was some mastermind. He inherited a Ferrari and drove it in a straight line.
The Numbers Don’t Lie
Strip away 2018, and what are you left with? A career record of 619-541, good for a .534 winning percentage. He made the playoffs exactly three times in eight seasons. After that first magical ride, let’s look at what actually happened:
2019: 84-78. No playoffs. The World Series hangover was real and he never addressed it.
2020: Suspended. You know why.
2021: Made the ALCS, going 7-7 in the postseason. I’ll give him this one. That team overachieved and it was a fun ride. But they still came up short.
2022: 78-84. Last place. The rot was setting in.
2023: 78-84. Again. Copy and paste the same lifeless, uninspired baseball.
2024: Somehow, they extended his contract through 2027. In what universe did that make sense?
2025: 89-73 and a sixth seed in the expanded playoffs. The media treated it like a triumph. Let’s be real: under the old rules, this team doesn’t even make October. And when they got there? Swept out by the Yankees in the Wild Card round without putting up a fight. One lonely win is all we got to show for six years of post-championship baseball.
2026: 10-17. Fired.
That’s a whole lot of mediocrity bookended by one great season he didn’t build and one embarrassing collapse he absolutely owned.
The Lineup Mismanagement Was Criminal
This is where it gets personal, and this is the hill I’ll die on: Alex Cora’s lineup decisions in 2026 weren’t just bad. They felt intentional.
Let’s start with Trevor Story. The man’s bat has fallen off a cliff and his glove (and arm) at shortstop is well below average. He is not our best option at short — Marcelo Mayer is, and it’s not even close. Andruw Monasterio probably has him beat defensively too. And yet Cora trotted Story out there batting second and playing the most important defensive position on the diamond to start the season. Why? Because he liked the guy. Because he was a “veteran presence.” In what world does personal loyalty override putting the best players on the field?
Then there’s the platoon disaster. Jarren Duran — an everyday player, full stop — was getting platooned based on lefty-righty matchups like he’s some aging bench bat. Same with Mayer. You’ve got two of your most talented young players, and instead of running them out there every single day and letting them find their rhythm, Cora was playing matchup games like he’s managing a September call-up roster in the 1990s. Meanwhile, Craig Breslow’s logjam of outfielders and DH types (Roman Anthony, Duran, Yoshida) created a roster construction nightmare, and Cora just shrugged his shoulders and rotated bodies through the lineup like a substitute teacher taking attendance.
The “Players’ Manager” Problem
Cora was always praised as a “players’ manager.” You know what that really means? It means he never held anyone (or himself) accountable.
The Red Sox under Cora consistently led the league in errors. Bad baserunning. Sloppy fundamental play. This from a guy who was a utility infielder, a grinder who had to do everything right just to stay in the league. He played 14 MLB seasons on guile and fundamentals. So where was that urgency when his team was sleepwalking through April? Where were the hard conversations? Where was the tough love?
Nowhere. Because Alex Cora didn’t want to rock the boat. He wanted to be liked. He wanted to be everybody’s friend. And when the losses started piling up, he didn’t light a fire under anyone. He threw his hands up and pointed at the roster like it wasn’t his problem. If the front office didn’t give him the players he wanted, he was going to prove a point by losing.
His Reaction Told You Everything
And here’s the part that really sticks in my gut. When Cora got fired, he didn’t look like a man who just lost the job he loved. He wasn’t devastated. He wasn’t reflective. Reports came out that players like Story, Wilyer Abreu, Carlos Narváez broke down in tears at the team hotel in Baltimore. The guys who played for him were gutted.
And Cora? Within days, the Phillies reportedly offered him their managerial job. He turned it down, saying he wanted to spend time with his family. Then he hopped on social media with a polished little farewell: “Boston, we will miss you. Gracias.”
That’s not the reaction of a man who was fighting to keep his job. That’s the reaction of a man who wanted out. He was the disgruntled employee showing up late, daring his boss to pull the trigger, and when they finally did, he walked out the door smiling. The fact that he had a new job offer within 72 hours and turned it down casually tells you everything about his mindset. He checked out on this team long before they checked out on him.
The Bigger Picture
Look, I’m not sitting here pretending Cora is the only problem. Craig Breslow’s roster construction has been a disaster. The “run prevention” strategy this offseason blew up in spectacular fashion. Missing out on Pete Alonso and Alex Bregman stung. Sam Kennedy has been invisible. And John Henry has been checked out for years, more interested in Liverpool and the Boston Globe than the team that made him a Boston icon.
But Cora was the captain of this ship, and the ship was sinking. You don’t get to stand on the deck pointing fingers at everyone else while the water rises around your ankles. A real leader finds a way to compete with whatever he’s got. Cora stopped trying, and that’s unforgivable.
Chad Tracy is in as the interim manager now, and honestly? A fresh voice is all this team needs right now. The talent is there: Mayer, Duran, Anthony, Garrett Crochet, Connelly Early, Bryan Bello. This roster has a pulse. It just needed someone willing to actually check for one.
The Verdict
Good riddance, Alex Cora. Thank you for 2018. Truly. But everything after that was a slow, painful decline wrapped in excuses and enabled by an organization too loyal to see what was right in front of them. You are the third-winningest manager in Red Sox history, and somehow, that stat makes me more frustrated, not less, because it means you had the runway and the rope to do something special. And you coasted.
The door is open now. Step one is done. There’s a lot more work ahead for this franchise, but at least we’re finally moving.
More to come, Red Sox Nation. This is just the beginning.
The Hot Corner is a weekly column on @FenwayFaithless, part of the Couch King Sports Network. Got a take? Think I’m dead wrong? Hit me up at @MLBatMat and check out the @FenwayFaithless podcast for the full Strikes 1-2-3 breakdown.