Colt Emerson on His 2025 Breakout, Swing Changes & the Road to Seattle
I spent 2025 chasing consistency. Some of it came from small mechanical changes. Some of it came from learning how to handle failure, how to be useful to a team in any role, and how to show up every day. The season that followed taught me more about being a ballplayer than any stat line ever could—and it’s the reason I’m heading into spring training hungry and ready.
Offseason, perspective, and staying ready
The offseason was a mix of travel and grind. I spent Christmas in the Dominican Republic and got to experience the Latin culture that a lot of teammates grew up in. It wasn’t a full tour of the country, but just getting out of my usual routine and seeing where some of the guys are from was eye-opening. The love for baseball down there is everywhere.
Back home I trained with a strong group—mostly pitchers, but enough infielders to get meaningful reps. I work in a dome with a full infield, which lets me simulate real game speed ground balls and live reps. The goal is simple: control what I can control. Get my body right, get consistent with routines, and be ready for whatever role opens up.
Why versatility matters
I’ve been taking reps at second, short, and third. Third base isn’t new for me—I've played it before—but second is less common. Still, I spend time at each spot every year. The most valuable players in this organization can play multiple positions, and I want to be one of those guys. If a chance comes, I don’t want anyone wondering whether I can handle the assignment.
Daily life in the minors
Minor-league life is mostly routine: field, Chipotle, sleep, repeat. I get to the field early—an hour or more—to stretch, roll, and do what I need to keep my body healthy. That extra time in the clubhouse and on the field is where a lot of development happens.
The 2025 grind: Everett to Triple-A
2025 was a test. After a shorter 70-game year the season before due to injury, I logged 130 games and saw virtually every level in the system. I started back at High-A Everett, the Northwest League that takes you through the Pacific Northwest—from Eugene to Spokane to Vancouver. Playing in front of those fans, seeing how passionate they are—especially in Canada where the chirps are almost polite—was special.
Everett was humbling and instructive. I spent most of the year there; there were rough patches and learning moments, and that helped me figure out how to be consistent both mentally and physically. Once I locked in, things smoothed out and I was able to move up to Double-A Arkansas, then to Triple-A where we made the playoffs in Las Vegas.
Key 2025 numbers
- High-A (90 games): .281 average, .388 OBP, 11 HR, 16 doubles, 6 SB
- Double-A (34 games): .282 average, .360 OBP, 3 HR, 10 doubles, 7 SB
- Triple-A (6 games): .364 average, 2 HRs
The small swing change that mattered: leg kick to toe tap
Midseason I moved from a leg kick to a toe tap. It sounds minor, but it changed my timing and reduced unnecessary movement. I got complacent in my offseason routines the year before—too much machine work, not enough mixed live reps where timing and rhythm are earned. The leg kick was getting out of hand; I was late on pitches and trying to do damage on everything instead of being selective.
The toe tap came from video work and conversations with my dad. I watched a spring training at-bat against Nathan Eovaldi where I hit a first-pitch fastball for a double. I realized I’d naturally toe tapped in that moment and was ready on time. So I leaned into that repeatable, smaller movement—something I could do every time and still be prepared for a fastball.
Results after the change
- Before the toe tap: .190 average, 1 HR on high fastballs, 57% ground ball rate, .375 slugging
- After the toe tap (final 77 games): .313 average, .920 OPS, 6 HRs on high fastballs, 39% ground ball rate, .513 slugging
The toe tap helped me get on time against high heaters and allowed me to elevate more often. Hitting is a game of tiny margins; finding a repeatable trigger with minimal movement made a huge difference.
Adjusting to different environments
Moving between leagues brings more than better competition. In Arkansas it was 100 degrees and humid—playing a 6 p.m. game there feels different than a 7 p.m. game up north. You learn to conserve energy, change your on-deck routine, and be intentional about getting ready so you aren’t gassed before your first at-bat.
The pitching talent grows as you move up. In Double-A and Triple-A pitchers are true pitchers; they’ll exploit any hole you show. Early on in Arkansas I chased a few too many borderline pitches and paid the price. Once I learned to sit on the middle of the zone and trust my process, things improved.
T-Mobile Park, Ichiro, and the taxi squad
One surreal highlight was getting called into the big-league clubhouse for a scrimmage at T-Mobile Park. I went out there expecting to be on the periphery, and suddenly I was pinch-running on a fly to Ichiro in right field. My first live at-bats in the big-league environment came during that scrimmage. I pulled a fly that nearly cleared the fence—close enough that I thought it might be out—and I played six innings at third.
After Triple-A playoffs I joined the taxi squad while Seattle clinched the division. We trained in Tacoma, spent a couple days in Seattle for the scrimmage, and then went back to Arizona to stay ready. It was an incredible learning experience: being around veteran players, absorbing their routines, and seeing firsthand how they prepare.
Leadership, failure, and what I’d tell my younger self
I was honored to be named Mr. Mariner in 2024. For me, leadership is simple: be the same person every day, lift teammates up, and bring consistency. You don’t have to be loud to lead—you just have to be reliable.
“Don’t take anything too seriously.”
That’s the advice I’d give my younger self. Baseball is serious, but getting too caught up in things you can’t control eats at you. Prioritize having fun. Even on days when you don’t feel it, show up and lean into the team. If you enjoy the process, the tough weeks don’t derail you the same way.
Practical takeaways
- Train harder than the game—simulate game-speed reps so the real thing feels easier.
- Trust small, repeatable mechanics—reduce movement to increase reaction time and consistency.
- Be versatile—play multiple positions to increase your value to the club.
- Have fun—when the room is light and you enjoy the grind, slumps feel shorter.
Spring training and the path forward
I report to spring training ready to compete for whatever opportunity presents itself. There’s been chatter comparing my path to guys who played their way onto an opening-day roster, but no one’s told me anything directly. That’s fine. All I need to do is control my process: stay healthy, show up prepared, play well, and be a good teammate.
Whether it’s as a utility infielder, a pinch-runner, or a starter, I want to bring the same consistency and energy every day. The road from Everett to Triple-A to a taxi squad taught me that baseball rewards preparation and humility. Now it’s about taking those lessons and turning them into sustained performance.
I’m excited for spring, excited to keep working, and focused on earning my chance—whatever it looks like.