TEMPE, Ariz. — The words were calm, but the emotion behind them was impossible to miss. “I was a very big piece of that process,” Alek Manoah said, reflecting on the Toronto Blue Jays’ charge to the World Series last October — a run he watched from afar, no longer on the roster, no longer in the clubhouse, yet still feeling every pitch as if he were standing on the mound himself.

It was a stunning fall for a pitcher once projected to anchor Toronto’s rotation for the next decade, a competitor who finished third in Cy Young voting in 2022 and carried himself with the swagger of a franchise ace, only to be designated for assignment in September of last season as the Blue Jays cleared space for a late roster move, a transaction that symbolized how far and how fast his trajectory had shifted.

Now wearing the uniform of the Los Angeles Angels after signing a one-year, $1.95 million deal, Manoah is attempting to rebuild not just his mechanics but his identity, and while spring training box scores rarely define careers, his two scoreless innings Sunday against the Arizona Diamondbacks offered a flicker of hope, his fastball averaging 93.1 mph, his sinker close behind at 91.9, two walks the only blemishes in an outing more about rhythm than results.

But statistics cannot capture the psychological grind of the past two years, a stretch that included Tommy John surgery, extended minor-league assignments at triple-A Buffalo, and the humbling experience of being removed from the Blue Jays’ 40-man roster during the very month they surged toward baseball’s grandest stage; he posted a respectable 2.97 ERA over his final seven triple-A starts, striking out 30 across 33.1 innings, yet the call never came, and when Toronto’s postseason run unfolded, Manoah was reduced to a spectator, cheering for teammates he still calls brothers.

“Those are all my friends,” he said. “A lot of those guys I called my brothers. I rooted for them 100 per cent. I wanted them to win it all.”

It is easy to dismiss such comments as polite nostalgia, but Manoah’s voice carried conviction when he added, “I was a very big piece of that process, getting to that World Series run. I wasn’t able to be there like I wanted to.” The statement is not bravado; it is a reminder that the foundation of a championship push is rarely built in a single season, and Manoah’s dominant years helped establish Toronto’s belief that October success was attainable.

Claimed off waivers by the Atlanta Braves late last year but never appearing in a game before being non-tendered in November, Manoah entered free agency with uncertainty swirling around his health and durability, questions that once would have seemed absurd for a 28-year-old former All-Star, yet baseball can be ruthless in its recalibration of value, especially for pitchers navigating post-surgery recoveries.

“At the end of the day, it’s just baseball, right?” Manoah said, offering perspective that only hardship can sharpen. “I’ve been through a lot tougher s— in life besides baseball. Just keeping that perspective and understanding that, at the end of the day, struggling in baseball is a first-world problem. Trusting that every door that closes is closing for a reason. Every door that’s opening is ready to blossom.”

Those words echo louder now that he finds himself in an Angels camp hungry for rotation stability, where opportunity exists but nothing is promised, and where performance — not reputation — will determine whether he secures a starting role or continues fighting uphill; the velocity readings are encouraging but secondary, because after nearly two full seasons away from consistent big-league action, Manoah’s focus has narrowed to routine, repetition, and resilience.

“I look up, and it’s been two years since I’ve been in a big-league game,” he admitted. “It doesn’t really hit me hard. I stay to the routine, I stay to the work every day.”

There is something quietly defiant about that approach, an understanding that the spotlight he once commanded must be earned back pitch by pitch, inning by inning, and perhaps season by season; the Angels are not asking him to be the 2022 Cy Young finalist overnight, only to be healthy, dependable, and relentless in his preparation, yet if Manoah can rediscover even a fraction of the dominance that once made him untouchable, his arrival could become one of the more compelling comeback arcs of the year.

Meanwhile, in Toronto, the echoes of last October linger, and though Manoah was not physically present in that clubhouse, his imprint remains part of the narrative, a reminder that baseball careers are rarely linear and that redemption often begins in the shadows; as spring unfolds in Arizona, the right-hander is no longer defined by his designation for assignment or by what he missed, but by what he insists still lies ahead — another chance, another mound, another chapter waiting to blossom.