American Scandal - Houston Astros: Caught Stealing | Radical Methods | 1

Episode Date: October 15, 2024

When Jeff Luhnow takes over as general manager of the Houston Astros in 2011, he promises owner Jim Crane he can do the seemingly impossible: propel the team from last place to the playoffs in just five years. But his win-at-all-costs attitude rubs many baseball insiders the wrong way and threatens to demoralize his players. Need more American Scandal? With Wondery+, enjoy exclusive seasons, binge new seasons first, and listen completely ad-free. Start your free trial in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, Spotify or visit wondery.app.link/IM5aogASNNb now.  See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hi, this is Lindsey Graham, host of American Scandal. Our back catalog has moved behind a paywall. Recent episodes remain free, but older ones will require a Wondery Plus subscription. With Wondery Plus, you get access to the full American Scandal archive, ad-free, plus early access to new seasons and more. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. podcasts. It's September 21st, 2017, and a humid Thursday night in Houston, Texas. At Minute Maid Park, players for the Chicago White Sox are taking the field for the bottom of the eighth inning. White Sox relief pitcher Danny Farquhar jogs out

to the mound for the first time in the game and takes a moment to gaze up at the stands. He sees a lot of empty seats and even more fans heading for the exits. It's late in the season, and with the hometown Astros comfortably in first place, this is a fairly meaningless game. But not to Farquhar. He joined the White Sox only a month ago, and he's eager to prove himself and protect his team's two-run lead. So when burly pinch-hitter Evan Gattis steps up to bat, Farquhar takes a breath and looks toward home plate, waiting for the catcher, Kevin Smith, to feed him a sign. Smith gets into his catcher's squat, then flashes several fingers between his knees. It's a sign for a changeup, a deceptive pitch that looks like a fastball but moves more slowly.

It's designed to fool the batter and make him swing early. Farquhar nods. Then he winds up and hurls the changeup toward home plate. But Gattis doesn't swing, and the slow-moving changeup curves out of the strike zone. It's ball one. As Farquhar gets the ball back from Smith, he frowns, thinking he heard something odd just before his pitch, a weird banging sound. But he shrugs it off and looks back to his catcher for the next sign. Smith flashes his pinky and signal for a fastball. Farquhar winds up again and sends a 94-mile-per-hour pitch screaming over the plate.

This time, Gattis swings and misses for strike one. On the third pitch, Smith signals another changeup, and Farquhar nods again. But before he can even lift his leg for the windup, he hears that banging sound. The ball leaves Farquhar's hand, and again, Gattis doesn't swing at the pitch, it's ball two. Now Farquhar's getting suspicious. He wants to know where that banging is coming from and why it's only happening before certain pitches. But there's no time to investigate now. Farquhar throws three more pitches, a mix of fastballs and change-ups.

Sometimes he hears the banging, sometimes he doesn't. Gattis swings confidently at each pitch, but hits them all foul. On the seventh throw, Smith signals for another changeup and Farquhar winds up. But when he hears the banging sound yet again, he drops his leg back down and steps off the mound. Smith jogs out from behind home plate and puts a protective arm around Farquhar. You okay, man? What's going on? Farquhar uses his glove to cover his mouth in case anyone on the Astros can read lips. They've got our signs. What do you mean?

Every time you signal a changeup, I hear two bangs over there in the dugout. Every time I throw a fastball, silence. They've got the signs, Kevin. But there's nobody on second base right now. Nobody on the Astros can even see my signs. I don't know how they're doing it, but it's happening fast. Like, you signal, I wind up, and that damn banging happens. You think they have someone in the crowd? Farquhar looks around Minute Maid Park. He gazes at Astros fans scattered across the stadium in plenty of empty seats. The bright

stadium lights shine down on them, and countless black, high-tech cameras are pointed directly at the field, broadcasting their every move. I don't know, man, but something's not right. I just know it. Well, what do we want to do? Let's plan our next four pitches right here. No signs. All right, give it a shot. Farquhar and Smith agree on the pitches, and Smith returns to home plate. Farquhar and Smith agree on the pitches, and Smith returns to home plate. Gattis steps back into the batter's box, and at the mound, Farquhar goes into his windup. As he does, there's no banging from nearby, just the dull hum of fans in the stadium.

He throws a changeup down and inside. This time, Gattis swings and misses. Strike three, he's out. For the rest of his time on the mound, Farquhar hears no more banging, but the White Sox pitcher senses that something is happening over in the Astros' dugout. It's one thing for a team to steal signs when they have a runner on second base who can see what the catcher is signaling. That's fair in baseball. But somehow, the Astros seem to be stealing signs with no one on base. And that makes Danny Farquhar furious, because the only way to do that is to cheat.

In the past decade, Boeing has been involved in a series of scandals and deadly crashes that have dented its once sterling reputation. At the center of it all, the 737 MAX. The latest season of Business Wars explores how Boeing allowed things to turn deadly and what, if anything, can save the company's reputation. Make sure to listen to Business Wars wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American Scandal. American Scandal In 2017, the Houston Astros accomplished something astonishing in Major League Baseball. In just four short years, the team went from being one of the worst in the league to clinching a World Series title.

At the time, their meteoric rise was attributed not just to the Astros' talented roster of players, but to the team's unorthodox general manager, Jeff Luno, who joined the team in 2011. Unlike most GMs, Luno didn't have a lot of baseball experience. Instead, he arrived in Houston with a business background and a philosophy of innovate or bust that drove the Astros to become one of baseball's most successful franchises. But after their 2017 World Series victory, once the champagne was gone and the confetti swept away, a very different picture of the Astros' winning strategy began to emerge. Luno's emphasis on innovation happened at a time

when Major League Baseball was colliding with cutting-edge technology. Competitive advantages were being carved out in ethical gray areas, and Major League Baseball was scrambling to keep up. Sign-stealing had long been a legal practice within the game, as long as it was done by players on the field. But it slipped into uncertain territory with the advent of high-speed cameras and video replay rooms. Eventually, this new technology and its potential to be used in secret to gain an advantage

would lead to some of the most spectacular cheating scandals that Major League Baseball had ever seen. And while other teams were caught stealing signs illegally, in the 2017 season, no team embraced the practice quite like the Houston Astros. The investigation that followed would forever alter the lives of those involved and level a lasting accusation against the Astros that they were cheaters, a team that was willing to win at any cost, and that they didn't deserve their World Series championship. At the time of the sign-stealing scandal, baseball fandom was already in decline.

Attendance was down and viewership had been steadily slipping since the late 2000s. The explosive Astros cheating scandal led many to wonder if the death knell had been sounded for America's favorite pastime and if modern baseball could ever recover. This is Episode 1, Radical Methods. It's 2003 in Oakland, California. Robert Holloway shuffles forward in the concessions line at the Oakland Coliseum, squinting at the menu. Holloway is a British businessman, and he's seen better dining options. His choices are peanuts, hot dogs, and shining jumbo pretzels that look like they've been sitting under the heat lamp for a few hours too long.

But Holloway didn't come here for the food. He came to get to know the man standing in line next to him, Jeff Luno. Luno and Holloway worked together at Archetype Solutions, a Bay Area tech company where Holloway is CEO and Luno is chief operating officer. But Luno is shy and reserved around the office, and Holloway has noticed the only thing that really brings Luno out of his shell is talking about baseball. So Holloway agreed to this adventure at the ballpark as a way of getting to know Luno a little better.

Well, Jeff, how long have you been following baseball? Oh, my whole life, really. But what really hooked me was when I joined a fantasy baseball league at Penn. Fancy baseball? What, like in a Brooks Brothers suit? No, not fancy. Fantasy. You make up your own fictional team with players in the league and then watch how your teams

perform throughout the season. How can you tell how they perform? Your team doesn't exist. Nah, but each player's stats do. And their collective stats determine your team's performance. Baseball is a really beautiful sport. But underneath all that beauty is a lot of raw data. And I think I love that even more. Well, the company numbers guy is a baseball numbers guy. That makes sense. I guess I've always had a mind for it. I mean, it's kind of embarrassing. But after graduating from Penn, I actually wrote a letter to the owner of the Dodgers

asking if they had a job opening for someone with a mind for numbers. And what'd they say? I never heard back. Well, their loss is my gain. I mean, are you still playing fantasy baseball? Oh yeah, sure I am. You want in? We're already into the season, but I'm sure we can...

Does that mean I have to watch every game? Well, not watch necessarily, but you have to track every game. Make sure you get the stats for all the players on your team. For me, it's almost like a part-time job. That's not a distraction for you, right? Luno grows quiet. The men step forward again, finally reaching the register, and Holloway realizes he might have sent his reserved COO back into his shell, so he backtracks.

I just, you know, want to make sure my numbers guy keeps us winning this season. Oh yeah, of course, Rob. Holloway watches as Luno places his order, but he seems nervous, as if he believes he just revealed too much about his personal interests. And truth be told, Holloway still doesn't really understand his bespectacled COO's obsession with this strange American game. But everyone needs a hobby,

even if it apparently involves the same kind of number-crunching Luno excels at in his day job. Early in his career, Jeff Luno's affinity for data and analytics helped him climb the ladders of corporate America. But the game of baseball remained his deepest and most enduring passion. Luno was first introduced to the game by his mother while the family was living in Mexico, where Luno was born and raised. Watching, playing, and discussing America's pastime was a way for her to ensure that her sons maintained a connection to her home country. And with young Jeff, the effort worked.

Years later, Luno earned undergraduate degrees in engineering and economics at the University of Pennsylvania, and then an MBA from Northwestern. But all the while, he continued to hope that one day he'd work in Major League Baseball. But his education and experience in corporate consulting and tech startups didn't really point to a new job in the sport he loved. Luno's fortunes begin to change in May of 2003 with the publication of a book that blows traditional approaches to baseball out of the water. Moneyballball by Michael

Lewis follows general manager Billy Bean and the Oakland Athletics through their spectacular rise in 2002. The book also lays out the A's strategy for building a successful baseball team. This strategy, called Sabermetrics, throws out over a century of baseball tradition in favor of a more modern, data-driven approach. Instead of evaluating players based on their physique or athletic prowess, Sabermetrics focuses on a few key statistics, like on-base percentage, to determine a player's true potential. Using this strategy, Billy Bean is able to identify undervalued players

and build a winning roster despite having one of the league's lowest budgets. But Bean's methods have many detractors. Scouts believe the approach discounts the intangibles when it comes to assessing players. Some even argue that it robs baseball of its soul. But for Luno, Moneyball is a revelation. The Sabermetrics approach marries two of Luno's strengths, his knowledge of baseball and his gift for analytics. And when Luno finishes reading the book,

he starts to wonder if there actually is room in the baseball industry for a guy with his background. In August of 2003, he gets an answer to that question. Luno is in his office at Archetype Solutions, going through emails and preparing reports, when something catches his eye. It's a message from someone Luno recruited years ago when he worked at the prestigious management consulting firm McKinsey.

Luno opens the email and quickly scans it. The former colleague writes that he just got married and his new father-in-law, the owner of the St. Louis Cardinals, Bill DeWitt Jr., would like to talk to Luno. Luno can't believe what he's reading. The colleague says DeWitt is going to bring some fresh blood into the Cardinals' front office, and he wants someone who can bring a moneyball approach to the team's recruitment efforts. Since the colleague remembers Luno being a fantasy baseball whiz when they worked together at McKinsey,

he thought maybe Luno was the guy to do it. Luno leans back in his chair. It's been two short months since he first read Moneyball. Now, as if by fate, an opportunity has fallen from the sky into his inbox. Still, Luno's hesitant. DeWitt is apparently looking for someone with Luno's skill set, but Luno has never actually worked in baseball, and he's seen how the moneyball approach has stirred up controversy in the sport. So Luno isn't sure he'd be welcomed by a major league team like the Cardinals,

but there is only one way to find out. He clicks reply and begins to draft a response, trying not to let his excitement spill over into his writing. And despite his apprehension, Luno confidently ends the email with a question, trying not to let his excitement spill over into his writing. And despite his apprehension, Luno confidently ends the email with a question, when would Bill like to meet? And then he hits send. One month later, Jeff Luno finds himself sitting in the office of Cardinals owner Bill DeWitt Jr. On the outside, the St. Louis Cardinals

don't appear to be a team in need of a data-driven overhaul. Since 2000, the Cardinals have routinely made it to the playoffs. But DeWitt is unhappy with the team's draft system, which selects young players to join the club's minor league teams and work their way up to the majors. Their drafts simply haven't produced enough major league stars. Most of the Cardinals' best players are veterans with high salaries acquired through free agency or trades with other teams. So DeWitt has come to believe that a better use of data could give the Cardinals an edge in the draft. And after their meeting,

DeWitt's convinced that Luno is the guy to make it happen. DeWitt offers Luno the position of Vice President of Baseball Development, and Luno accepts. His fantasy of working for a major league ball club has become a reality. But Luno's first season in the MLB is a quiet one. He spends 2004 gathering data on the Cardinals' team operations, approaching it with a business mindset. Then, DeWitt promotes Luno to Scouting director, a position that will finally give him the power to shape the team with his own brand of analytics. But soon it becomes apparent that Luno's unorthodox approach is going to ruffle some feathers within the Cardinals organization.

In early 2005, right in the middle of spring training, Luno calls members of the Cardinals coaching staff into a conference room for a seminar on pitching. Already, this is irksome to the team's legendary pitching coach, Dave Duncan. Duncan started his career as a catcher in the 1960s before becoming a coach in the late 70s. Since then, he's developed a reputation for getting the best out of his pitchers with tried and true techniques that have worked for decades. out of his pictures with tried and true techniques that have worked for decades. So when Duncan sits down in this conference room and hears Luno introduce the guest speaker of the day, he's absolutely baffled. Today's presentation will be given by a cartoonist from New Yorker Magazine named Mike Witte. According to Luno, Witte has created his own theory on pitching

mechanics based on years of experience in sketching pitchers. Duncan folds his arms tightly across his chest and tries to contain his anger. As Witte pulls out his sketchbooks and begins showing his work to the pitching coaches in the room, Duncan glances over at Luno and sees him grinning in delight. He's clearly proud of himself for this time-wasting experiment. Duncan has been aware of Luno's presence in the organization. But between Luno's button-down shirts and muted tone in meetings, the new scouting director hasn't left much of an impression. Luno strikes Duncan as a corporate suit who read Moneyball once and now thinks he's figured out the sport. So Duncan's tried to ignore Luno for the most part, choosing instead to focus

on what he does best, coaching pitchers. But this meeting is crossing a line. Luno is disregarding Duncan's deep knowledge of the game and bringing in a cartoonist to tell him how to do his job. But Duncan holds himself together. Once this ridiculous presentation is over, he'll get back to coaching his pitchers in the way that's worked for decades. As for Luno, Duncan has seen scouting directors come and go. So he can't wait for all this moneyball nonsense to blow over, so they can get rid of interlopers like Jeff Luno and focus on the important matters like winning a World Series. He was hip-hop's biggest mogul, the man who redefined fame, fortune, and the music industry.

The first male rapper to be honored on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Sean Diddy Cone. Diddy built an empire and lived a life most people only dream about. Everybody know ain't no party like a Diddy party, so. Yeah, that's what's up. But just as quickly as his empire rose, it came crashing down. Today I'm announcing the unsealing of a three-count indictment, charging Sean Combs with racketeering conspiracy, sex trafficking, interstate transportation for prostitution. I was f***ed up.

I hit rock bottom, but I made no excuses. I'm disgusted. I was f***ed up. I hit rock bottom, but I made no excuses. I'm disgusted. I'm so sorry. Until you're wearing an orange jumpsuit, it's not real. Now it's real. From his meteoric rise to his shocking fall from grace, from law and crime, this is the rise and fall of Diddy. Listen to the rise and fall of Diddy exclusively with Wondery+. I'm Jake Warren, and in our first season of Finding, I set out on a very personal quest to find the woman who saved my mom's life. You can listen to Finding Natasha right now exclusively on Wondery+. In season two, I found myself caught up in a new journey to help someone I've never even met. But a couple of years ago, I came across a social media post by a person named Loti. It read in part, Three years ago today that I attempted to jump off this bridge, but this wasn't my time to go.

A gentleman named Andy saved my life. I still haven't found him. This is a story that I came across purely by chance, but it instantly moved me and it's taken me to a place where I've had to consider some deeper issues around mental health. This is season two of Finding, and this time, if all goes to plan, we'll be finding Andy. You can listen to Finding Andy and Finding Natasha exclusively and ad-free on Wondery+. Join Wondery in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In 2005, pitching coach Dave Duncan and many others at the St. Louis Cardinals believe that Jeff Luno's days in baseball will be short and unremarkable. But it doesn't take long for Luno to prove them wrong.

The following year, owner Bill DeWitt Jr. promotes Luno again to a new vice president position, putting him in charge of both amateur scouting and player development in the minor leagues. Despite the sometimes bizarre perspectives he brings to meetings, Luno continues to enjoy the support of the Cardinals' owner. And the team continues to be one of the league's most successful. In 2006, they win the World Series. Luno can't take much credit for the victory because most of the young players he's drafted and developed

have yet to play in the majors. But for DeWitt, it's a sign that the team is trending in the right direction. And for the next three years, Luno continues to push his data-driven approach to recruitment and development, bringing in outside-the-box analysts, including a former NASA engineer named Sig Meidel. All the while, clubhouse veterans snicker behind Luno's back, calling the bookish, bespectacled vice president names like The Accountant or even Harry Potter. But despite such resistance and disrespect, Luno tries to get along with the baseball old-timers. He understands that there's value in the experience and wisdom they bring to

the table. So when it comes to the draft, he pursues a hybrid approach. He orders Maidel to develop a player evaluation tool that combines data-heavy performance analysis with insights from veteran scouts. He also makes sure to include these scouts in his draft meetings so their voices can be heard as the draft unfolds. Still, conflicts between the old and new continue, especially in the June 2009 draft, when teams around the league take turns selecting new young players. As always, Luno leads the Cardinals draft, when teams around the league take turns selecting new young players. As always, Luno leads the Cardinals draft from the front of a large conference room at Bush Stadium, the team's home park. He stands in front of a magnetic whiteboard covered with more than

a thousand magnets, each representing a potential draft pick. Scouts sit around a conference table at the front of the room, twirling pens on their fingers and spitting dip into empty soda cans. As their turn approaches, Luno and his scouts and analysts rearrange the names on the board, shifting their priorities depending on which players are still available. Usually, everyone agrees on a pick before it's the Cardinals' turn. But as the time grows closer for the team to make its third round pick, the room is split between two players, a power-hitting outfielder Angelo Sonko and pitcher Joe Kelly.

Sitting among the analysts and their laptops at the back of the room, Sig Meidel speaks up and says that according to their algorithm, Kelly does not look good. He's shorter than the average big league pitcher, and his college stats are average at best. But the scouts sitting at the front of the room disagree. One of them points out that everyone who's watched Kelly pitch, including Luno, has been blown away by his fastball, which can almost reach 100 miles per hour. He has what scouts simply call great stuff, pitches that even a major league batter would have trouble hitting. With a little coaching, the scouts believe that Kelly can become great. Maidel says that may be true, but he's not great now, and Sanko is. Statistically, Sanko is the safer pick. Luno lets the argument play out, but deep down, he'd like to take Maidel's

side. He trusts analytics, and if you're playing fantasy baseball, he'd take Zonko over Kelly every time. But when it comes time to make the call, Luno ultimately chooses Kelly, trusting his scouts' gut feelings. Looking across the room, Luno can see that Maidel is disappointed. So after the scouts have filed out of the draft room, he pulls Maidel aside to talk about the decision. Luno starts off by emphasizing that he still supports Maidel's analysis, but

there are intangibles that Data can't account for. Before Luno can say anything else, Maidel says he gets it. For all their efforts to combine Maidel's analytics with intuitive insights on the scouts, Maidel recognizes that there is still conflict. It's even reflected in where everyone chooses to sit in the draft room. The analysts in the back and the scouts up front. They're just different tribes. Luno is relieved to hear that Maidel understands the dilemma. And he confesses that he's still struggling to find a way to get everyone in the organization to buy into the analytical approach. He feels like he spends more time resolving internal conflicts than he does actually making

good data-driven decisions. So Luno sighs, saying it's like he has all of the ingredients at his fingertips, but the recipe for a truly optimized team still feels out of reach. He doesn't tell Maidel this, but deep down, Luno knows that the Cardinals are just too successful, too set in their ways to experiment with the kind of new approach he thinks they need. An experiment, by definition, is trial and error. And the Cardinals are winning. They can't afford error. So if Luno really wants to push this thing to its limits,

he'll need to have total control over the team and total buy-in from the front office. To get that, he needs to find a team that he can run more like a startup. A team so bad that the idea of tearing it down and building it back up again would be a welcome change. At the end of the 2011 season, one of the worst teams in baseball gets a new owner when billionaire businessman Jim Crane buys the Houston Astros. Established in 1962, the Astros enjoyed hot streaks in the 80s and 90s and even made a trip to the World Series in 2005. But they've never won a championship, and after 2006, the team fell into decline,

routinely putting up more losses than wins. The 2011 season was their worst yet, with the team losing over 100 games for the first time in the franchise's history. But the team wasn't just losing games. They were also losing fans and losing money. Attendance had dropped every year since 2006, and the team's costs outstripped its revenues by $12 million in 2010. Still, along with some minority stakeholders, Jim Crane pays $680 million to buy the team, the second largest price tag ever for a major league club. This is probably because where others see a losing franchise, Crane sees opportunity. He earned his fortune in air freight logistics, an industry where data is crucial to success.

And he believes the same data-driven approach can turn around the Houston Astros. But the team needs new leadership. So as soon as the ink on the contract is dried, Crane fires the team's general manager, Ed Wade, clearing the path for someone new. In Crane's mind, the Astros are nothing more than a failing business. And to turn it around, he needs change, starting with a GM who's willing to do things differently. So when Crane begins his search, he recalls a meeting he had several years back with a member of the St. Louis Cardinal staff, Jeff Luno. Crane knows Luno isn't the conventional pick for a GM. He's a scouting director, and he

spent more time in fluorescent-lit offices than on the freshly cut grass of a baseball field. But Luno has the business background that Crane believes might complement the Astros' new direction. So in the fall of 2011, Crane calls to arrange a meeting with Luno. The very next day, the two men meet in Crane's still-undecorated office to discuss the Astro's potential. And as Luno sits down, Crane notices a stack of papers under Luno's arm.

I appreciate you meeting on such short notice, Jeff. Well, opportunity calls and I answer. And I can see you brought a book report with you. How many pages is that? 23. It was 25 originally, but I tightened it up some. And you put that together in just the last day. Well, sir.

No, please, Jeff, none of that sir stuff. Okay, Mr. Crane? No, no, no, Jim. Oh, okay, Jim. Well, I believe this team can be turned around, and I believe I know how. Luno opens up his 23-page proposal and points to a detailed decision tree. The first thing the Astros need to do is stop spending millions of dollars on players who aren't producing results point blank. I don't care if they're a fan favorite. They have to go.

The players on a baseball team are an investment, and we need to make sure our assets make sense long term. That means thinking differently from the draft to our free agent deals. Yeah? And what does different look like to you? Well, to me, it looks like letting go of magical thinking and sticking to the data. Just the cold, hard facts of how a player performs on the field. And that data is available. It's all at our

fingertips. We just have to set emotion aside and take advantage of it. Sounds a bit ruthless. Maybe to some. Well, I appreciate your frankness. I mean, you can't make real change when you're busy walking on eggshells. I know that. But tell me, why'd you take this meeting? Are the Cardinals not listening to you? Well, my views on how to run a baseball team have not always been embraced in St. Louis. I'd rather come work for an views on how to run a baseball team have not always been embraced in St. Louis. I'd rather come work for an organization that wants to try a different approach. And that different approach for the Astros is what? Sabermetrics? Moneyball? I'm talking about something that goes beyond Moneyball, something that gets this team its first championship. I mean, the Oakland A's succeeded with Moneyball, but they didn't make it to the World Series.

We have to think bigger than what's already been done. We need to innovate and then keep innovating. To me, that's how you win a championship. Crane leans back in his chair. He's impressed by Luno, but still somewhat wary. He's a scouting director from St. Louis, and right now he's sounding almost overconfident. Well, here's a more serious question, Jeff. What are the risks? Well, the short term is basically all risk. We risk losing games. We risk losing a lot of them. We risk pissing off the fans. They won't understand what

we're doing. And we risk the pain of change in this organization. All right. But in the medium term, what if this works out? In five years, this will be a playoff-caliber team. And once we're at that level, we'll go all in on talent. So you can hoist the Commissioner's Trophy, the first one in franchise history. For the rest of the meeting, Luno lays out the details of his proposal. A five-year plan for the Astros to reach the playoffs and eventually win the World Series. His strategy for getting there is daring and unorthodox. It will require radical changes to the organization on both the business side and in the clubhouse. But by the end of the presentation, Crane is left impressed.

He doesn't offer Luno the GM job on the spot. But as Luno shakes Crane's hand and heads out of his sparse office, Crane feels invigorated. Jeff Luno just laid out a vision for the Astros that's progressive, aggressive, and even a little cutthroat. It's the kind of vision that could transform a losing baseball team into a winning one. On January 5th, 2024, an Alaska Airlines door plug tore away mid-flight, leaving a gaping hole in the side of a plane that carried 171 passengers. This heart-stopping incident was just the latest in a string of crises surrounding the aviation manufacturing giant, Boeing.

In the past decade, Boeing has been involved in a series of damning scandals and deadly crashes that have chipped away at its once sterling reputation. At the center of it all, the 737 MAX, the latest season of business wars, explores how Boeing, once the gold standard of aviation engineering, descended into a nightmare of safety concerns and public mistrust. The decisions, denials and devastating consequences bringing the Titan to its knees. And what, if anything, can save the company's reputation.

Now, follow Business Wars on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge Business Wars, The Unraveling of Boeing, early and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus. On December 7th, 2011, Astros owner Jim Crane hires Jeff Luno as the team's general manager, ushering in a new era for Houston and a world of new possibilities for Luno's data-driven approach to baseball. In one early meeting between Luno and Crane, the new GM bluntly asks his boss, what are my constraints? Crane responds by tearing a blank sheet of paper off his notepad and sliding it over. The message is clear.

There are no constraints. The organization is a blank slate. And Luno realizes that this might be his one chance to run a team exactly the way he wants to run it. So Luno quickly gets to work, building out his front office within the Astros organization. He brings his analytics expert Sig Meidel over from the Cardinals and gives him the title of Director of Decision Sciences. He also fires veteran members of the Astros organization, often in unceremonious ways. And when the 2012 season begins, Luno reveals his plan for the games themselves. And that plan involves losing a lot. If the Astros are going to rebuild their team, they need to draft good young talent. And the team with the league's worst record gets the overall number one draft pick the next year.

So Luno, with Crane's approval, makes sure the Astros take advantage of that system. In the 2012 season, the Astros lose 107 games out of 162. The next year, they lose even more with 111, including their last 15. They become the laughingstock of the league. The fans hate it, and the press dubs them the disastrous. And Luno's unconventional methods aren't going over well within the organization either. Dissent starts to grow, and soon word of that internal strife reaches a local sports writer.

row, and soon word of that internal strife reaches a local sports writer. Evan Drellick is a newly minted beat reporter at the Houston Chronicle covering the Astros, and almost as soon as he begins work late in the 2013 season, he starts to hear rumblings of turmoil within the team. It starts with an offhand comment from an agent representing one of the Astros players. He says that something is off with the way things are being run, and it goes deeper than just losing games. With his interest piqued, Drellick sets off on a month-long quest to find out exactly what's been happening behind the scenes. By the spring of 2014, Drellick has interviewed several former players

and even spoken to Luno on the phone. And the more he learns, the more he realizes that something is off indeed. But he still hasn't been able to get a current player to give him a quote. But today, he's hoping his luck will change. From his desk in the Houston Chronicles newsroom, Drellick picks up the phone and dials the number of an Astros player who's agreed, reluctantly, to speak with him about problems inside the organization. Hello, this is Evan, right? It is, yeah. Thanks for agreeing to talk with me about this stuff.

Well, I don't want this call to be long. I'm not one to talk smack or anything. No, I understand, and that's not what this call's about. I'm just trying to get a better sense of what's going on with your team, you know, from someone who's living it every day. But before we start, are you comfortable with me recording this? Do you have to? Well, I'm not going to use your name like we agreed, but I want to make sure I have things phrased exactly as you say them and not me going off memory. The player pauses, seeming to mull it over. Then he finally agrees and Drella begins recording the call. So tell me more about the

energy on the team right now. You've faced a lot of upheaval, it sounds like, since Jeff Luno took over. Upheaval, yeah, that's one way to put it. Look, the bottom line is I don't think anyone's happy. I'm not. And what makes you unhappy right now? It's like they just take the human element out of baseball. They being the front office? Your new GM? Yeah, it's hard to play for a GM who just sees you as a number instead of a person. You don't feel like a person as a member of your team? Like you're being dehumanized? I feel like an experiment.

Jeff's experimenting with all of us. I mean, what kind of atmosphere is that? Trella can feel the player's frustration through the phone. Is there anything else you'd like to add? Not really. You swear you won't use my name? Oh, you have my word. There are 25 guys on that team. I'll make sure nothing in the article can identify you. Thanks. I just want

to make sure the fans know we aren't happy either, you know? We're trying our best, man. You gotta let them know that we don't want this. On May 23rd, 2014, Evan Drellick publishes an article under the title, Radical Methods Paint Astros as Outcast. The piece lays out the Astros' analytics-heavy approach and the discontent that it's sown within the organization. Drellick quotes both current and former players who say the Astros have developed a bad reputation as a club that treats its players like disposable puzzle pieces. Drellick also quotes Jeff Luno, whose response to the concerns is to say, we're not running for election here. It's not

a popularity contest. Drellick's reporting generates a flurry of negative media attention, but the bad press and griping players do little to deter Luno. With owner Jim Crane's support, he keeps pushing forward with his five-year plan to rebuild the Astros into a dream team, one that makes decisions based on hard data, not baseball tradition. Luno also slashes operating costs, especially the team's payroll.

At the start of the 2013 season, the Astros' entire roster is set to earn just $26 million, the lowest in Major League Baseball. Luno's philosophy is simple. They'll spend more on talent only when they have a real shot at winning the World Series. But strife within the organization continues. Team manager Bo Porter is increasingly at odds with Luno, whose obsession with player stats and analytics makes him more hands-on than most GMs.

Luno's office often sends suggested lineups down to the clubhouse and recommendations for which relief pitchers match up best against opposing team's hitters. They even tell Porter where to line up his fielders based on where batters tend to hit the ball, a strategy called defensive shift. But as the losses keep piling up, a frustrated Bo Porter starts ignoring his GM's recommendations. Things reach a boiling point late in the 2014 season when Luno fires Porter along with other members of the coaching staff. Luno realizes he needs people around him who not only buy into his data-driven approach, but can execute it properly,

from the front office down to the field. So he hires a new manager, A.J. Hinch, who is more amenable to the changing tides of modern baseball. And in 2015, Hinch's first full season as manager, the team known as the Disastros starts winning. In 2016, they post another winning record. Some of the team's top draft picks have started making an impact, and momentum is building

even as tensions continue to simmer at Minute Maid Park. Because toward the end of the 2016 season, it becomes clear that despite their winning record, the Astros won't make it to the playoffs. it becomes clear that despite their winning record, the Astros won't make it to the playoffs. But the team's progress is undeniable. And Luno is searching for more ways to innovate, to push the Astros to the next level of success. Around this time, Derek Vigoa, an Astros intern, mentions to Luno that he's figured out a way to integrate more data into player analysis and get an edge on the other teams. Luno has always liked Vigoa. The two men share a similar background, business students out of the University of Pennsylvania with a key understanding of baseball statistics. So when Vigoa flags a new use for analytics,

Luno invites him to give a presentation. On September 22, 2016, Luno and other members of the club's front office sit down opposite one of the team's projector screens and watch Vigoa bring up a PowerPoint presentation. Vigoa seems nervous. His voice is halting and he fumbles to click through the slides. It's not the kind of

performance that instills confidence. But when Vigoa starts mentioning something called Codebreaker, Luno's ears perk up. On the screen is an Excel spreadsheet, which Vigoa explains is filled with information that can help the Astros predict pitches. For some time now, Vigoa has been watching televised games and cataloging opposing teams' sign sequences,

as well as the actual pitch that's thrown. Through this process, he's been building a database that decodes the signs for every team. So if the catcher is putting down two fingers and the pitcher is responding with a curveball more than 80% of the time, you can almost certainly say if you're facing that particular pitcher-catcher duo, two fingers is going to mean a curveball. What Vigoa is describing is not exactly groundbreaking, and Luno knows it. Teams have been stealing each other's signs almost since the invention of baseball. But Luno is hungry for a new competitive edge, and he doubts any other team in the league has built a database of signs as comprehensive as Vigoa's.

So Luno leans forward in his chair and begins to ask questions. The application might be rudimentary, but he can see the potential. Five years ago, Luno vowed to owner Jim Crane that he would rebuild the Astros organization. And thanks to innovation, that at times has been ruthless. They've done it. Cold, hard data has paved the way to a new horizon for the Houston Astros. But one thing still remains just outside their grasp, a World Series title. Luno can sense they're close. If they can keep finding smart ways to

gather more data to stay one step ahead of their competitors, then the biggest victory yet will be squarely in their sights. From Wondery, this is Episode 1 of Houston Astros Caught Stealing for American Scandal. In our next episode, the Astros round out their organization with veteran players and coaches who embrace the team's aggressive approach to innovation and technology and their philosophy of doing whatever it takes to win. whatever it takes to win. If you're enjoying American Scandal, you can unlock exclusive seasons on Wondery+. Binge new seasons first and listen completely ad-free

when you join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a survey at wondery.com slash survey. If you'd like to learn more about this story, we recommend the books Winning Fixes Everything by Evan Drellick and Cheated by Andy Martino. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. All our dramatizations are based on historical research.

American Scandal is hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Paraga. Sound design by Gabriel Gould. Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by A.J. Maraschow. Edited by Emma Cortland. Fact-checking by Alyssa Jung-Perry. Produced by John Reed.

Managing producer, Olivia Fonte. Senior producer, Andy Herman Herman Development by Stephanie Jens Executive Producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman Marshall Louis and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondery