Jazz Chisholm is unapologetically himself. The Yankees seem to be just fine with that

New York Times

26-03-2025

TAMPA, Fla. — Jazz Chisholm Jr. sees himself as an artist. To understand the Yankees second baseman and why he's fit in so well in New York — and also why he hated the first three years he spent with the Miami Marlins — it requires a full accounting of his whole self.
He is not just a baseball player, but also a painter, a rapper and a fashion designer. Chisholm perceives dismissing these sides of him as betrayal, the kind he experienced at the hands of veteran players in his first two weeks as a major leaguer.
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'Pure jealousy,' Chisholm said recently, during a wide-ranging interview at his home.
When Chisholm arrived in the big leagues in 2020, he brought 20 custom pairs of cleats that he bought and designed himself. They displayed his passions, from Oreo cookies, to the anime series 'Black Clover,' and even the video game, 'Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.'
Marlins infielder Miguel Rojas did not see artistry. Rojas saw a flashy rookie who needed to be put in his place. That meant taking a pair of those custom cleats and cutting them up with scissors. That meant ruining another pair of shoes by filling them with milk.
'Childish' clubhouse hazing is how the incident was described by a person in the Marlins clubhouse, who requested anonymity to speak candidly.
Chisholm, 27, said he never confronted Rojas or other veteran teammates about the incident, which would later lead to so many other similar skirmishes that then-Marlins manager Don Mattingly had to convene a 90-minute team meeting just to keep the peace. By then, Chisholm said he had adopted a policy of isolation, and leaned into his individuality.
For Chisholm, that meant showing up to the ballpark in even flashier clothing.
'I don't want to say this — baseball is a White sport,' Chisholm said. 'I feel like White people criticize everything that a Black man does. Black men are outspoken. They say what's on their minds.'
The unwritten rules of baseball, as interpreted by Chisholm, say he shouldn't be wearing jewelry on the field; he wears two earrings and diamond-crusted chains featuring characters from his favorite anime series. He shouldn't pimp home runs; he pimps them every time, even if they're wall-scrapers, and then performs his signature Euro step as he crosses home plate.
'The unwritten rules of baseball are White,' he said of the sport's set of arbitrary standards, many rooted in a time before integration. 'And I always broke the unwritten rules of baseball.'
Yet, Chisholm has found acceptance in what seems like an unlikely place. Until last month, the Yankees enforced a facial hair policy that for many represented the most stringent of baseball's customs. But with Chisholm, the Yankees seem to have come to an understanding that some in his previous organization never quite grasped.
'Everybody wants to be accepted and everybody wants to be loved,' Mattingly said. 'Jazz's biggest thing is he's gotta be me.'
Aaron Boone danced along to a song from the 1980s — the Yankees manager couldn't remember which — but Chisholm immediately noticed. Already, things felt different. This was two weeks after the Yankees traded for him in a deadline deal last season, not long after several clubs made it clear that they were 'completely out' on acquiring the infielder because of his strong personality.
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'Watch, I'm about to go to the plate right now and hit a homer,' Chisholm promised his new manager. 'I'm gonna come back and do that little dance.'
Chisholm followed through. After stepping into the batter's box late in the first game of an August doubleheader against the Texas Rangers, Chisholm launched a 416-foot blast into the Yankees' bullpen. Before shaking hands with teammates in the dugout, Chisholm pointed at Boone and performed the same step routine his manager did an inning before. It sent Boone into hysterics. Months later, the memory of the incident still cracked him up.
'That's why I appreciate him so much,' Chisholm said.
The Yankees organization has a well-earned reputation for stifling individuality. But Boone felt it was important to let Chisholm know that he would be accepting him for who he was and that he shouldn't feel pressured to stop being himself. This was the message relayed on the day of the trade in their very first phone call.
Being himself had rarely been a problem — no matter the setting. Chisholm was raised in Nassau by his grandfather and grandmother, Patricia Coakley, a former shortstop on the Bahamian national softball team. She taught him how to hit when he was 2 years old. Growing up, he'd watch Ken Griffey Jr., Barry Bonds, Fred McGriff, Gary Sheffield and Eric Davis highlights, trying to envision how a short, skinny kid from the Bahamas could make it to the big leagues.
At 12, Chisholm took a step closer to that dream. He moved to the U.S. to attend Life Preparatory Academy, a boarding school in Wichita, Kan., where he played football, basketball and baseball.
'I was like the only Black kid in the neighborhood and what felt like the only Black kid within a 5-10 mile radius,' Chisholm said, but he never once felt unaccepted.
That's why his early experiences in professional baseball were so jarring to him. In 2019, prior to his trade to Miami that August, Chisholm was the top prospect in the Arizona Diamondbacks' system. Double-A manager Blake Lalli batted Chisholm sixth in the lineup, a curious decision that the then-21-year-old viewed as a sign of disrespect.
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He believed Lalli was there to 'straighten me out' because the team viewed him as not taking the game seriously.
'That just made me hate him a little bit at that point,' Chisholm said of Lalli, who was hired as the Marlins' third base coach this offseason. 'He didn't come in and do it the right way.'
When told how Chisholm felt about his experience years later, Lalli was stunned. 'You're there for the kid, and you're there to help them,' Lalli said. 'If you come off as being hard on someone, it's out of trying to help them and show them love. Love isn't always shown in smiles and hugs.
'I'm sorry he feels that way. I only had his best interests first.'
Chisholm's intro to the majors in Miami the following year felt even more ostracizing. He believes there was racial bias, even though some former teammates and executives argue the dynamics had more to do with old-school veterans trying to assert their power rather than anything related to race.
'Nobody would ever cut up my cleats or throw my things away if I were White,' Chisholm said. 'I'll tell you right now, if this was a White boy's stuff, you weren't gonna cut that sh– up because if a White boy goes and complains, now everybody's f—ed. I go and complain and it's not that big of a deal. It's, 'Let's try and find a solution for this.' But if a White boy goes and complains, nah, f— that.'
Chisholm said he spent most of his time alone in the Marlins' nap room or watching anime with current New York Mets outfielder Starling Marte.
'He felt like he couldn't be himself in the big leagues,' said former Marlins teammate Lewis Brinson, who did not believe the attacks against Chisholm to be racially motivated. 'Jazz needs to be himself to play better. I could see in his demeanor and in his face that he didn't really want to be around anybody too much in the clubhouse because he felt like he didn't fit in.
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'You're having people tell you that your personality is not welcome. … They're saying you're disrespecting the game and all this other stuff. It's tough to play your best when you know veterans on the team aren't agreeing with your way.'
Chisholm didn't believe he needed to respect how Rojas, whom he viewed as a middling big-leaguer, ran the clubhouse. Rojas has previously addressed Chisholm's comments, brushing off any criticism.
In those 2022 closed door meetings convened by Mattingly, he told Marlins teammates they needed to lay off because for Chisholm to play his best, he needed to feel free. Now serving as the Toronto Blue Jays' bench coach, Mattingly said he recommended that general manager Ross Atkins trade for Chisholm last season.
'I don't know if we were ever in that mix at all, but he's one of those guys that you see the talent and know there's a good kid in there,' Mattingly said. 'When you have a veteran club that's got a good clubhouse and the foundation is there, they're going to bring him in and do it the right way.'
The Marlins hired Skip Schumaker to replace Mattingly after the 2022 season and traded Rojas to the Dodgers later in the offseason. One of Schumaker's first objectives was to clean up the clubhouse dynamics.
'You are quick to get labeled in this game, and then once you get labeled in this game, it's tough to remove the label,' Schumaker said. 'There were some labels attached to him before I got here, but to me, to our staff and to his teammates — I love Jazz.'
When the Marlins approached the trade deadline in 2024, Schumaker said teams asked about how Chisholm would potentially fit in their clubhouse. The Yankees were comfortable trading for Chisholm after numerous conversations with Marlins personnel.
'I never got that he was a bad teammate,' Yankees general manager Brian Cashman said. 'I had a lot of comfort knowing that the human side of it was not a concern. All of our feedback was that he was a quality human being with a big heart.'
Understanding different perspectives is one of a manager's core duties. For Boone, that goes beyond the baseball field. The Yankees manager has two adopted Haitian sons, Jeanel and Sergot, and he's had conversations in his household about what it means to be a Black man in America.
'As much as I can, I try to put myself in other people's shoes all of the time,' Boone said. 'You have to make your own conclusions about a guy and not just go off what their reputation is, or their care level, or their professionalism. It is on you to dig deeper into that as best as you can. I haven't walked in a lot of people's shoes in that room, including Jazz's. But that doesn't mean you don't try your best to understand where he's coming from.'
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Boone said he has found Chisholm to be easy to talk with. Now and then, Boone said, he has to 'get him in the lines,' but he doesn't want to curtail his exuberance. 'I just wanted to establish a relationship with him,' Boone noted, hoping that such a bond will make it easier when he does 'get on him about something.'
The Yankees need to be a 'model organization,' Boone said, but their stodginess has dissipated over the past few years. The club will allow beards beginning this season for the first time in nearly 50 years, changing one of the most notable team rules in American sports in what Chisholm said was a sign of baseball's progress in accepting individualism.
Chisholm would be the first to tell you that he spends too much time online caring about what nameless, faceless people say on social media. During spring training, he would get up at 5 a.m. daily and spend time with his cat, Oliver — who has a white self-cleaning litter box that looks like a mini spaceship stationed in the middle of Chisholm's rented home in Tampa — before reporting to the field.
In a quest to gain more hobbies, Chisholm has a set of golf clubs near his front door. Even though he's just learning how to play, he claims he can already drive the ball 350 yards. But what has also changed for Chisholm since becoming a Yankee is how much he's hung out with his teammates.
'I could hang out with the whole team last year, and I could not believe it,' Chisholm said. 'It was like, 'This is what it is to be an actual, true big leaguer with teammates that you actually get along with every day.' It used to just be me being in my room watching anime, but I actually mess with these guys.'
Chisholm named eight different players he hung out with away from the park last season, including the team's ace.
'Gerrit Cole is 1,000 percent invited to the barbecue,' Chisholm said.
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With the Yankees already facing several significant injuries to begin the season, New York must count on Chisholm becoming one of its standout players if it hopes to return to the World Series.
Let Jazz be Jazz, and he just might have the best year of his career.
Chisholm won't hit free agency until 2027, more than enough time for him to make his mark in New York. And as he reflects on his time in baseball so far, he remains adamant about walking his own path.
'Everybody knew Michael Jordan to be an a–hole, but is that gonna stop Jordan from getting his money?' Chisholm said. 'I know a lot of a–holes in the league who've gotten paid, and I'm not even an a–hole.'
(Top photo edit: Will Tullos / The Athletic; Source image: Kevin Sabitus (Dugout Photo))