George Springer: Who he really is, and why "Cheater" doesn't begin to describe him.
Before the Big Leagues: The Human Behind the Jersey
Before he was a World Series MVP, before the “cheater” chants and the boos in visiting ballparks, George Springer was just a kid from New Britain, Connecticut. He was a shy, stuttering kid who used sport as a language when words didn’t come easy.
His dad was an advocate, educator, and athlete as well as a believer in hard work. His mom, Laura, was a top-level gymnast who competed for Puerto Rico. His sisters, Nicole and Lena, both played college softball which really meant that baseball wasn’t just a sport in the Springer house, it was the family dialect. For them it became how they connected, how they pushed one another, and how they built confidence.
Source: https://www.courant.com/2020/10/26/dom-amore-as-uconns-george-springer-hits-free-agency-the-mets-are-the-ideal-place-to-write-his-next-chapter/
There’s a quiet photo from his days playing for UConn where he’s smiling mid-game. It’s not quite the million-dollar smile we know now, but one that really seems to say: this kid belongs. The swing wasn’t perfect yet, but the joy he found in the game was. You can see that same kid, the same mix of intensity and wonder, every time he jogs back into the dugout, jumps around with his outfield mates, or celebrates one of the biggest homeruns in team history at Rogers Centre.
People talk about stats, but what made Springer special wasn’t his exit velocity, it was his intention, effort, and joy. Every swing came from a place of wanting to belong and every smile was an act of defiance against doubt. All of a suddent, when you know that, the rest of his story makes a lot more sense.
The Father, the Teammate, the Guy Who Still Feels Things Deeply
If you’ve ever watched George around teammates, not the highlight-reel stuff, but the quiet in-between moments, you’ll notice something. He’s not performing. He’s checking in.
He’s the first to put an arm around a rookie after a rough at-bat, the first to make a joke when the dugout feels heavy, the first to sprint to the outfield fence to high-five a kid after a win.
And now, as a dad himself, you can see how that lens can translate into fatherhood. He talks about “wanting my son to grow up proud of the man I am, not just the player.” That’s not PR-speak that somebody gave him in the “how to talk about your vision for your son’s future” course. That’s a guy who’s learned that legacy isn’t just about numbers on a scoreboard, results, or outcomes…it’s about what people remember when the lights go off.
Springer sitting in traffic after losing Game 6 of the World Series in 2025
The Scandal That Overshadowed the Story
Let’s talk about that chapter.
Yes, George Springer was on the 2017 Houston Astros, the team that cheated. Cameras, bangs, signals, all of it. No one’s denying that. And yes, it’s a stain on the sport as a whole.
But here’s where the media loves to stop…right where humanity begins. Springer didn’t design the system that Houston used. He didn’t mastermind the cheating, or champion it so that everybody bought it. He was a young player in a veteran clubhouse where it’s all too easy for a culture of “this is what everyone’s doing” took over.
He later said, “I wish I had done more.” That line hits harder when you realize what kind of person he actually is watching him in Toronto. Springer is someone raised to take responsibility and someone who has always cared more about people than optics. He wasn’t absolving himself of guilt or his participation in the matter. He was admitting the one thing you never hear from public figures anymore: regret.
Springer’s language is not the language of a villain, but rather the honesty of a man who’s grown.
The Redemption: Toronto’s Version of a Second Chance
When Springer signed with the Blue Jays in 2021, it wasn’t just a free-agent move, but rather an act of reinvention. He could’ve chased easy redemption in a quiet market for a similar paycheque. Instead, he chose Canada’s biggest (and only) stage with a young, unpredictable roster that needed leadership.
He didn’t show up pretending to be perfect but he sure showed up ready to work and ready to win. He was ready to prove something the hard way, and commit to the people around him in order to get it done.
Watch him now. The way he lights up when Bo Bichette crushes a double or the way he laughs with Vladdy after an awkward catch. I’ve been in the stadium behind home plate and personally seen the way he looks at fans on a Jr Jays Sunday…like he still remembers being one.
The look on his face is not one of a man haunted by scandal, but a man who understands grace and growth.
And here’s the thing, Toronto gave it to him. The organization, the fanbase, the entire country…quietly, steadily, and without hashtags or banners. Jays fans don’t need a PR campaign to see when someone’s genuine. Canadians don’t need to drag you over the coals for a mistake you took part in. You can feel it in how the clubhouse talks about him, how the dugout moves when he’s leading off, and how the team plays with a little more joy when he’s healthy.
The Science of Forgiveness and Why It Applies Here
Behavioural psychology says redemption stories hinge on three things: acknowledgment, repair, and continuity.
Springer’s checked all three boxes.
Acknowledgment: He never dodged responsibility.
Repair: He’s invested in mentorship, leadership, and community work that puts the focus back on the game’s integrity.
Continuity: He’s sustained performance post-scandal, proving the talent was real all along.
If the scandal was about cheating, Springer’s response has been about humanity.
The Numbers Still Matter and They Still Impress
Here’s what the numbers say since he came to Toronto:
Career OPS+ of 133 (meaning he’s 33% better than league average).
Postseason OBP of .380 (even higher than his regular season).
Leadership presence measured not in stats, but in performance stabilization when he’s in the lineup.
George Springer produces. Not because of cameras, or the trash can bangs, or signs, but because he’s wired for BOTH competition and connection.
The Bottom Line: A Player, A Person, A Parent
The narrative of “cheater” is easy. It’s clean, digestible, permanent, and honestly quite lazy but the truth of George Springer is messier and much more interesting.
He’s the kid who learned to overcome a stutter with a bat in his hand.
The son of a firefighter and a gymnast.
The big brother who led by example.
The father trying to show his son what accountability looks like in real life.
And the man who took one of the sport’s ugliest stains and turned it into a lifelong reminder to do better.
He’s not a villain. He’s a mirror that shows us what it looks like to fall, own it, and still rise again.
So when you see George Springer next running out to right field at Rogers Centre, remember: you’re not just watching a player, you’re watching a story. One still being rewritten, one honest swing at a time.
