When the Ace Wobbled in San Francisco

     Justin Verlander’s arrival in San Francisco last winter was supposed to be one of those rare moves that blended baseball’s past with its present. The Giants knew they weren’t signing the Verlander of Houston’s championship run or Detroit’s days of fire and fury, but they believed the 42-year-old still had something left to give. A one-year, 15 million dollar deal was framed not only as a bet on his arm, but on his mind, his presence, and his ability to stabilize a rotation that often leaned too heavily on Logan Webb. For a franchise searching for an identity in a division dominated by the Dodgers, it was also a statement that the Giants were still willing to swing big on marquee names.

The season, though, rarely aligned with the glossy vision. Verlander’s year has been defined by turbulence as much as triumph. He began 2025 struggling to find wins despite pitching serviceably, a reflection of an offense that provided little support and a bullpen prone to unraveling. He spent time sidelined with a strained pectoral muscle, the sort of injury that tends to haunt pitchers in their forties. When he returned, he mixed stretches of brilliance with outings that showed the limits of age. There were moments where he looked ageless, reeling off an 11-start run with a 2.17 ERA, climbing into the elite company of pitchers with over 3,500 career strikeouts. Yet there were also nights like his latest against St. Louis, where he surrendered six runs in 4⅓ innings, looking more worn than wondrous. That game may well prove to be his final start in a Giants uniform, and it felt symbolic in its unevenness.

So what did the Giants expect, and were they disappointed? In truth, they expected leadership and steadiness more than dominance, and they did get a version of that. Verlander gave them innings when healthy, mentored younger arms, and carried himself as the consummate professional. Still, the harsh reality is that San Francisco signed a legend at the tail end of his story, not in the middle of it. They wanted him to lift them into contention, and instead they found themselves drifting out of the playoff race again. Was that Verlander’s fault? Not entirely. His velocity dipped and his command sometimes faltered, but he was also betrayed by a lineup that struggled to score and a team that lacked the depth to mask his off nights. The disappointment is as much about the state of the franchise as it is about the pitcher.

That leaves the question of his future. Verlander has made it clear he wants to pitch in 2026, convinced that the flashes of effectiveness are proof that he still belongs. But will the Giants extend him? It seems unlikely. With younger arms pressing for opportunity and a front office under pressure to retool for the future, San Francisco will probably pass on another run. A short-term, incentive-laden deal could keep him around, but the more probable path is that Verlander takes his resume elsewhere. Teams looking for veteran stability, clubs that need innings and leadership more than dominance, could make sense. A contender looking for a fifth starter or a rebuilding team craving a mentor for young pitchers might both see value in him.

Of course, retirement lingers as an option, and at his age, it’s a fair question. Should he hang up his cleats, he would do so with a Hall of Fame resume already secure: multiple Cy Young Awards, a World Series ring, more than 3,500 strikeouts, and the reputation of one of the fiercest competitors of his generation. But Verlander has always been defined by defiance, defiance of hitters, of doubters, and of time itself. It would be fitting if he tried to wrestle one more season out of an arm that still occasionally hums with greatness.

His brief tenure in San Francisco will not be remembered as a renaissance, nor will it be written off as a failure. It was, in many ways, exactly what it looked like when the ink dried last winter: a calculated gamble on a legendary pitcher trying to stretch his career a little further. The Giants hoped for more than they received, but they didn’t walk away empty-handed either. And as the curtain closes on 2025, Verlander’s time by the Bay becomes just another chapter in a career that has never lacked for intrigue, resilience, or headlines. Whether he stays on the mound or finally steps away, his story is far from ordinary, and for the Giants, his single season will serve as a reminder of both the risks and the allure of chasing greatness in its twilight.