Colson Montgomery and the grind of flipping the script in Year 2

MILWAUKEE — In the hours before his first Opening Day start, colson montgomery framed the season the way a hitter does when the game feels bigger than the scoreboard: stick to the process, hold tight to routines, and stay ready for everything to change. “You’ve got to be able to adapt to these pitchers, ” he said. “It’s flipping the script. ”
For the White Sox, the script matters. A year ago, the power-hitting 24-year-old had to return to the most basic parts of his swing and mindset to escape a cold streak that threatened his career trajectory. This year, the work starts again—only now it comes with the weight of being treated like a foundational piece of the franchise’s future.
What does “flipping the script” mean for Colson Montgomery right now?
For colson montgomery, the phrase is less slogan than survival skill. He described it as a commitment to process over panic: repeat the routines, accept that adjustments are constant, and meet each pitch as its own problem. “Each pitch is a new battle, ” he said, adding that “the big leagues” amplify his “winner mentality” because “everything matters. ”
The need for that approach shows in the early returns. He struck out four times before collecting his first hit of the season on Saturday in Milwaukee, a single. And while spring training numbers carry a clear caveat—“spring training stats don’t count for anything”—his line there was. 182/. 224/. 345 with 20 strikeouts and three homers in 55 at-bats.
The organization’s view, though, has not narrowed to a few early results. The focus is whether he can keep his plan intact when the game presses back.
How last season’s reset in Arizona reshaped his trajectory
Last year’s inflection point came when Montgomery took an early-spring sabbatical to the Sox’ Arizona training complex. The trip was meant to pull him out of what was described as a “wretched start” at Triple-A Charlotte in 2025. It did more than that: it helped him regain his swing and his footing in the larger picture of where his career could go.
The turnaround wasn’t presented as magic, but as a return to fundamentals—swing mechanics and mindset—done with intention. From there, he surged, getting back “on track as a foundational piece” of the team’s future. The article also tied that rebound to power production, noting 21 home runs in 71 games to start his career.
And there was another layer the front office valued: his defense at shortstop. Scouts have questioned how long his 6-3 frame will last at the position, but his “sturdy defense” was described as “the cherry on top” for decision-makers. For Montgomery, those memories aren’t nostalgia; they are a reference point. “I look back at all that and can be like ‘Yeah, that’s what I can do, ’” he said. “You just want to try to replicate all that stuff and it goes back to… being process-oriented. ”
Who is shaping the expectations—and tempering them?
Inside the organization, player development director Paul Janish focused on something harder to quantify than exit velocity or a box score: durability. “He really exhibited what I would describe as durability, ” Janish said. “Even when he was struggling, he was pretty much the same guy. ”
Janish explained what that steadiness can look like in practice: repeated attempts, repeated failures, and the willingness to return the next day unchanged in commitment. “That means a lot of hitting your head against the wall, ” he said, before expanding into a blunt, affectionate summary of baseball’s mental toll: “It’s a stupid game, as I affectionately say. There are very few people who figure it out and never look back… It’s one of the things about our game that is really hard to deal with, but also what keeps a lot of us dummies coming back. It’s just a constant grind. ”
General manager Chris Getz, meanwhile, offered the caution that often follows a breakout stretch: the league adjusts, and the calendar is long. He acknowledged how high the bar can rise after a strong run, saying Montgomery “was so good for the two months that he was up in the big leagues, ” but adding, “We are asking him to bring that level of production for six months, which may not be realistic. Pitchers are going to attack him differently. ”
Still, Getz pointed toward optimism rooted in timing and stakes—expecting a “significant turnaround now that the games matter, ” with the hope that it lasts deeper into the year as the team tries to “turn a corner in their rebuild. ”
What the White Sox are trying to build around this moment
Montgomery’s year is being read on two levels at once: the personal fight to repeat good habits, and the franchise’s need for a cornerstone to look like one over time. That tension shows in how his story is told—equal parts patience and urgency.
On the field, the demands are straightforward but unforgiving: adapt to how pitchers approach him, withstand strikeouts without changing who he is, and keep sharpening the process that rescued him once already. Off the field, the organization’s stance mixes belief with restraint: they are banking on his potential while acknowledging that expecting peak production every month may not be realistic.
In practical terms, the response is continuity—keeping him anchored to routines, development support, and the same process-based framing he articulated before Opening Day. The story of his Arizona sabbatical lingers as proof that stepping back to basics can change the direction of a season.
Back in Milwaukee, the scene returns to the smallest unit in baseball: one pitch, one decision, one breath. That is where colson montgomery insists the season will be won or lost—not in the noise of early stat lines, but in the daily discipline of trying again, and again, to flip the script.
Image caption (alt text): colson montgomery prepares between pitches during a spring training game, reflecting on routines and adaptation in Year 2.




