Garrett Crochet pushes back on pitch-tipping rumors after rocky outing vs. Astros

It started with a single inning that looked unlike anything Garrett Crochet had thrown all season.

The Chicago White Sox left-hander, who has quietly become one of the American League’s most consistent arms this summer, suddenly lost his rhythm against the Houston Astros. Fastballs missed their spots by a foot, sliders spun harmlessly into the zone, and the contact — sharp, frequent, and loud — kept piling up. By the time manager Pedro Grifol came to get him in the fourth inning, whispers had already begun circulating: Was Crochet tipping his pitches?

The speculation gained traction almost immediately. Social media lit up with slow-motion breakdowns from amateur analysts and fan accounts, highlighting subtle changes in Crochet’s glove placement, the tilt of his head, or the way his fingers flexed on the baseball before delivery. The narrative was seductive: Houston’s hitters weren’t just locked in — they knew what was coming.

Crochet, however, is having none of it.

“Absolutely not,” he said flatly after the game. “I didn’t tip anything. That’s not what happened. We had a game plan, and I didn’t execute it. Simple as that.”

A night that looked different from the rest

Before Tuesday’s outing, Crochet had been in a groove. His ERA over his previous six starts sat at 2.37, with opponents hitting just .178 against him. His fastball-slider combination had been carving through lineups, and even when his command wavered, his velocity and late movement usually bailed him out.

Against Houston, though, the Astros barely seemed fooled. Yordan Álvarez turned around a first-pitch fastball for a ringing double. Alex Bregman fought off two nasty sliders before lining a single the other way. Even light-hitting utility man Mauricio Dubón found the barrel.

“They were on time for everything,” said catcher Connor Wong, who was behind the plate for the start. “When that happens, you have to ask yourself if you’re showing something. But we looked at the tape in the dugout, and I didn’t see anything glaring.”

The anatomy of a “tipping” accusation

Pitch-tipping — the unintentional signaling of pitch type through subtle mechanical tells — has been a part of baseball’s cat-and-mouse game for decades. The infamous 2018 World Series saw the Red Sox pick up on Dodgers pitcher Yu Darvish’s glove angle, while more recently, Mets ace Max Scherzer has admitted to altering his delivery mid-game to avoid giving away clues.

Former Astros bench coach Alex Cora once put it succinctly: “If you’re not looking for tips, you’re not doing your job.”

But identifying a true tip is tricky business. It requires patterns over multiple pitches, consistent and observable differences, and confirmation that hitters are reacting accordingly. The challenge is separating real mechanical tells from random variance — and from the possibility that the opposing lineup just had a great night.

In Crochet’s case, the White Sox coaching staff says they have already done their due diligence.

“We’ve gone through the video,” Grifol said. “We’ll keep checking, because it’s part of our process. But right now, I don’t see a smoking gun. I think we called a game plan that played into their strengths, and they made us pay for it.”

Strategic misfire?

If Crochet wasn’t tipping, what happened?

The lefty suggested that the team’s approach may have been too predictable.

“We wanted to challenge them in the zone, stay aggressive early in counts,” he explained. “That’s usually a good way to attack, but with this lineup, maybe we should’ve gone a different route. They’re a good fastball-hitting team, and I think they were ready for it.”

Houston entered the game ranked third in the AL in batting average against four-seam fastballs (.282) and had slugged 42 home runs off heaters this season. Crochet threw 62% fastballs in his 78 pitches, well above his season average of 54%.

“They saw the ball well, and I gave them too many looks at the same thing,” he said.

Moving pieces behind the plate and in the field

Adding to the intrigue were a couple of notable lineup adjustments. Regular infield anchor Carlos Narváez was given the night off, and Connor Wong — normally a catcher — took on more responsibility handling infield positioning alongside his duties behind the dish.

The White Sox also shuffled their defensive alignments more aggressively than usual, perhaps as a preemptive counter to Houston’s pull-heavy tendencies. But the changes didn’t seem to slow the Astros down.

“Sometimes you tinker, and it works. Sometimes it doesn’t,” Grifol said. “This was one of those nights.”

The mental side of the storm

For Crochet, the challenge now is less about mechanics and more about perception. Once a “pitch-tipping” label sticks, it can follow a pitcher around, even if unfounded. Opponents might start hunting for tells they otherwise wouldn’t notice, and every bad inning becomes potential “proof.”

“You can’t let the noise get to you,” said teammate Lucas Giolito, who’s dealt with similar accusations in the past. “The best thing you can do is stay aware of your own patterns, make small adjustments, and trust your stuff. Most of the time, it’s just baseball. Sometimes the other team wins the chess match.”

Crochet’s next scheduled start comes against the Cleveland Guardians, another team that has shown an ability to punish mistakes early in counts. Whether or not Tuesday’s chatter lingers may depend on how quickly he can restore his rhythm — and his results.

“I’m already focused on Cleveland,” Crochet said. “This game’s over. We learn from it, and we move on.”

Bigger than one night

In the end, the story might not be about pitch-tipping at all. It could simply be the reminder that even the most reliable arms can look mortal on the wrong night, against the wrong lineup, with the wrong plan.

But in an era where technology allows fans and teams alike to scrutinize every frame of a pitcher’s delivery, perception often moves faster than truth. The line between “they guessed right” and “they knew what was coming” has never been blurrier.

For now, the White Sox are standing behind their starter.

“I know Garrett,” Grifol said. “He prepares as hard as anyone. He’s honest about his performances. If he says he didn’t tip, I believe him. The rest is just noise.”

Noise or not, the conversation won’t fade overnight. That’s the reality of baseball in 2025 — every pitch is a clue, every outing a potential narrative. And for Garrett Crochet, the next chapter begins in five days.