Loyalty, in Boston, used to mean more than just a long contract and a couple of good Octobers. These days, it seems even legends are weighing in as cornerstones crumble and allegiances shift like Fenway winds. So when Rafael Devers walked out the door and the Red Sox front office played innocent, David Ortiz didn’t just watch quietly—he delivered a five-word verdict that sliced deeper than any trade clause.

When any of the MLB legends speak, you listen and try and follow what they say. Not just because they are legends, but because they have been where you are and know what happens if you make a wrong decision. After the Devers trade broke out, everyone was in shock, but not Big Papi because he knew at some point this would happen.

In a tweet by MLB insider Yancen Pujols talked about the Devers deal and shared his conversation with Ortiz about the deal. During the conversation, Ortiz said, “Players need to take this as an example, nobody is indispensable… You need to be smart to understand the situation. Your worst enemy is your ego.” But this isn’t just aimed at the player.

From Mookie Betts to Xander Bogaerts, the Red Sox front office has been shedding stars like it’s spring cleaning. But this isn’t strategy—it’s self-sabotage dressed up as flexibility. Ortiz’s words may have been aimed at players, but the mirror swings both ways. Somewhere in all this cap-space calculus, Boston forgot what built its last banner: trust, not turnover.

Ortiz may be watching from France, but his voice still echoes through Fenway louder than ownership’s pressers. While the suits shuffle contracts, Big Papi reminds the next generation that egos don’t raise banners—accountability does. Reflecting on his own battles with the Red Sox front office, moments of tension, and bruised egos. Yet, he said, he “was mature enough to understand and keep things internal.”

Devers, still young and fiercely proud, chose a different path. Rather than keeping his frustrations behind closed doors, he let the world know how he felt about the team’s attempts to move him around the diamond. Ortiz didn’t call him out by name, but the implication was unmistakable. Where Ortiz once navigated the storm in silence, Devers’ public comments may have widened the rift—one that the Red Sox ultimately decided couldn’t be bridged.

Ortiz didn’t flinch—he forecasted it. Now, his words feel less like advice and more like prophecy. In Boston, statues may stay, but stars don’t. If Devers can go, anyone can. The Red Sox didn’t just trade a third baseman—they traded away any illusion of loyalty. And Big Papi’s five-word message? It wasn’t a warning. It was a mirror.

Fans not the only ones surprised by Rafael Devers’ trade

In a city where baseball heartbreak is becoming tradition, the Red Sox just added another chapter. And no, this one didn’t come with a parade. The front office pulled the pin and lobbed another grenade into what’s left of 2018’s glory. Rafael Devers is gone, the loyal face of a fading era, and even Mookie Betts—yes, that Mookie Betts—had to pause and process the madness from a rival dugout.

The trade of Devers instantly echoed the Betts deal from 2020—loud and lasting. Both were franchise stars, homegrown and beloved, shipped off for prospects and payroll space. Devers had a decade-long deal; Betts was nearing free agency. Either way, the Red Sox ripped out another piece of their 2018 soul.

Betts, now a Dodger, didn’t sugarcoat his disbelief: “I just thought it was crazy.” No calls, no texts—he’s moved on. “I genuinely don’t care,” he added, detached but clearly aware of the Boston chaos. Still, he tipped his cap to the Giants, saying, “They care, they want to win.”

If Betts was the warning shot, Devers was the full-blown siren—and Boston still hit snooze. The Red Sox aren’t rebuilding; they’re erasing. Legacy, loyalty, long balls? All negotiable, apparently. As the front office redraws Fenway’s future with a disappearing ink pen, one thing’s clear: in Boston, even cornerstones come with expiration dates.