Tigers' qualifying offer choice for Gleyber Torres may draw mixed reviews from fans

The Detroit Tigers have extended a one-year, $22.025 million qualifying offer to free-agent second baseman Gleyber Torres, opening the door for a potential reunion in 2026. It's a move that sits at the crossroads of the franchise's long-term plan and its short-term impatience to win – and one that has left fan reactions deeply mixed.

Scott Harris and A.J. Hinch have spent three seasons rebuilding the Tigers around young, controllable talent – Riley Greene, Colt Keith, Dillon Dingler, etc. – while keeping payroll flexibility.
They’ve signaled that any major spending must fit their timeline, not just patch a hole. So when the club presents a one-year, $22 million qualifying offer to a player like Torres, it sends an unmistakable signal: “We’re ready to win right now, and we need proven offense – even if it’s expensive.”

Second base was one of the Tigers’ weakest positions prior to Torres' arrival in 2025. A career .265 hitter with 25-homer power, he instantly upgraded the lineup’s contact quality and middle-of-the-order credibility. After years of relying on potential, Detroit would finally be adding proven production.

The qualifying offer is also a one-year deal, so there's no long-term risk if Torres regresses. The Tigers still get an impact bat without a multi-year commitment, which is pretty darn appealing for a front office that still wants payroll flexibility.

However, for as much offensive upside as he brings, Torres has long been an average (sometimes below-average) defender. For a team that prides itself on run prevention and pitching efficiency, paying elite money for a bat-first, glove-neutral infielder clashes with its identity.

Tigers' qualifying offer to Gleyber Torres sends a complicated message to fans

Most fans see the rotation and bullpen as Detroit’s most urgent problem. Spending top-tier money on another non-elite bat instead of a front-line starter or high-leverage reliever might feel like misplaced priorities.

If Torres accepts the Tigers' offer, his salary will account for nearly a quarter of the team's projected 2026 payroll. That's a huge chunk of financial room spent on a player who may only add 2–3 WAR.
If he declines, Detroit gains a draft pick – but it also signals the team just flirted with a big splash and came up empty.

Optimists will say, “Finally! A proven hitter to balance all these rookies. It’s time to spend.” Skeptics will counter, “This isn’t how you build sustainable success; it’s just another stopgap move that distracts from the pitching issues and limits the money that can be spent on a better offensive threat.”

Both sides would have a point. It’s the perfect lightning-rod decision for a fan base tired of patience but wary of overspending. By extending the offer to Torres, the Tigers are effectively telling fans that they are transitioning into contender mode – but they're also raising fair questions about how they define contention (by buying bats or building arms?).

In essence, it crystallizes the tension that has defined the Scott Harris era: balancing fiscal discipline and developmental patience with the city’s hunger for immediate, winning baseball.