TIJUANA, Mexico — A white Maserati was parked outside the main entrance of Toros Mobil Park, six hours before first pitch on Tuesday. It stood out, of course — the conspicuous conveyance of a star in a league largely devoid of them.
The Maserati meant Justin Turner had arrived.
Turner is the big name south of the border, there only because no one wanted him north of it. None of the 30 big league clubs would offer the 41-year-old a guaranteed contract. None would sign him to a minor league deal. No one thought he was even worth a spring training camp invite. The two-time All-Star and 17-year veteran even called several teams and asked to be signed.
“Nothing came of it,” he said.
In that world, he’s been written off as old, washed, and a bastion of a game that’s passed him by.
“I was kind of shocked,” Turner told The Athletic. “To not get a non-roster invite, that was tough and disappointing.
“I know where the game’s going, and a lot of weight is put into a data sheet. Part of my tool set that I bring, you won’t find on a data sheet. I knew that, at some point, those opportunities were going to dry up, but I didn’t think it was going to be not even a non-roster invite.”
But in Tijuana, a two-hour drive from the stadium where he became an All-Star, a fan-favorite, and a World Series winner, he’s the perpetual man of the hour, the player everyone is there to watch. His is the only named jersey on sale at the team store. The team’s mascot, a bull named Torín, has been retrofitted with a removable red beard to match Turner’s ginger look. Teammates and fans have gotten to calling him Barba Roja, which translates to “Red Beard.”
Many Dodgers fans have flocked to Mexico early this year to show their appreciation for their World Series champion, who put up 34.6 bWAR in his nine seasons in Los Angeles.
“Supposedly, this is a Padres stadium, usually, but I’ve seen a ton of Dodger fans down here,” Turner said. “… I tell you what, it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than a Dodger ticket or a Padre ticket.”
Turner sat leaning back against the dugout wall, clad in baggy black sweatpants. At his age, with a young family, and career earnings north of $130 million, he certainly doesn’t need this. The long and grueling travel, the smaller ballparks and the lower pay. This is decidedly not the major leagues.
But it is baseball. And right now, that is what Turner can’t live without.
“I’ve always said I’m going to play as long as I can and make someone rip a jersey off me,” he said. “I love playing, I love being around guys, love being around the cage. I still feel really good in the box. On top of that, my family, my wife loves the games and loves coming to games. So I mean, baseball is not going anywhere, and whatever it is that I’ll do when I’m done playing isn’t going anywhere.”
Journeys like Turner’s, from MLB to Mexico, are becoming increasingly common; the Mexican Baseball League is full of ex-big leaguers, with teams allowed up to 20 foreign-born players on the 38-man roster. Turner is once again teammates with Wilmer Flores, who played more than a dozen years with the Mets and Giants. On the other side of the field that series, playing for the Dorados de Chihuahua, was Andrelton Simmons, long considered one of the game’s all-time defensive shortstops.
There are 14 Toros players who have appeared in an MLB game — an evolving staple of a league that is now a haven for cast-offs. With the majors getting younger, and MLB recently shrinking the size of the minor leagues, the Liga Mexicana de Beisbol gets more and more foreign talent. Eight-time All-Star Robinson Canó was the league’s MVP in 2024, batting .431.
“I talked to Cal Raleigh two days ago, and he’s like, ‘How’s it going? What’s it like? Who’s on your team,’” said Turner, who was teammates with Raleigh for a season in Seattle. “I started going down the list, naming all these guys, he goes, ‘What the f—, dude, are you serious?’
“And I’m like, ‘Yeah, we got a lot of good players down here in this league.’ Which is crazy because, you know, they cut out those levels and MLB’s basically closing the door on a lot of good baseball players.”
There is a fair question to be asked about whether or not the league opening itself up to so many foreign born players could ultimately stymie the positive momentum of baseball’s growth in Mexico. “There must be a way for more Mexicans to get in,” said Pittsburgh Pirates pitcher José Urquidy.
But for this league, and particularly the Toros, having recognizable names makes their teams better and a bigger draw. It’s good for business, and team president Omar Canizales Soto said the club even reached out to Luis Arraez late this offseason before the three-time batting champion inked a one-year deal with the San Francisco Giants.
Canizales said he’s never seen an American player have the same impact in the LMB as Turner — who has a 1.031 OPS for the first-place Toros — has had in his first month in Tijuana. The team contacted him for a videoconference late in spring, when they sensed he might not have any big league offers.
“With him coming here, the fact that everyone’s taking a look at Tijuana,” Canizales said through interpreter Tony Alvarez. “It will help the organization and, of course, also the league itself, to pay more attention to it. … We believe that by having players that play here, that will create a domino effect, and maybe they could tell other players.
“And of course, the jersey sales started to pick up. Especially the ones with the No. 10 on the back.”
His teammate, Flores, was so shocked to hear about Turner’s signing that he thought it was a lie. Turner has private security that helps him and his family navigate their daily travels to and from San Diego, where many American-born Toros players live during the season.
Toros manager Roberto Kelly, a two-time All-Star and three-time World Series champion coach in his own right, sees the Mexican League as the beneficiary of the changing dynamics at the MLB level. “Once you get to a certain age,” he said, “you’re pretty much out of the game.”
As a result, Turner — who is five years older than any of his teammates — and a slew of others are playing out the string on his watch, hoping some team in the United States sees them and maybe changes their mind.
“If you see Justin, the way he walks around this clubhouse, you wouldn’t even think he has done all of what he’s done in the big leagues,” Kelly said. “Because he’s just one of us. And that’s what’s great about him, and having that kind of attitude, I think it’s a big plus for us.”
Turner’s name recognition and on-field production have both been boons for the Toros. (Courtesy of Tijuana Toros)
Nearly every day this offseason, Turner contemplated his baseball mortality. “It was a roller coaster,” he said. “It was up and down every day.” He reached out to ex-Dodgers teammate Hyun-Jin Ryu about opportunities in Korea, but nothing materialized. He had a meeting on the books with his agency to discuss his future. Maybe that meant playing golf. Maybe that meant coaching.
When the Toros reached out, he canceled it.
“Sometimes it’s hard to walk away from the game on your own terms,” said former Dodgers teammate A.J. Ellis, who spoke with Turner during last year’s playoffs. “I think he’s giving himself the opportunity to determine when it’s time for that point. … Justin’s pouring out every ounce he has in the game of baseball.”
Turner thought he would retire as a Dodger, he said. But his career since leaving Los Angeles took him to Boston, Toronto, Seattle and Chicago. He would have been the game’s oldest position player, and felt confident he’d get that chance.
Perhaps there would have been interest in him as a coach, maybe even as a manager. That’s on the table, he said, but not something he’s truly ready to consider.
“I definitely think I’ll remain in the game for a long time,” Turner said at the prospect of managing. “The question is, is the time right? And how much time is that going to pull me away from my sons? It depends on the role and the situation. I think time will tell what happens. I’m not mapping anything out.”
It’s been exactly 20 years since Turner first put on a professional uniform. Twenty years since he hit his first career home run for the Billings Mustangs, a team and league that are no longer in affiliated baseball.
In the decades since, Turner said, he’s “been through just about everything you can go through in baseball.” Traded, non-tendered, DFA’d. Sent up, called down. He’s been the last man on a roster, a September call-up. A starter, the recipient of a hefty contract. An All-Star. A champion.
As the sun set off the mountains on Tuesday night, in front of a small but quite noisy crowd, Turner was writing yet one more chapter. On an 0-2 count, he ripped a fastball up near his eyes for a two-run home run.
It was vintage Turner, but with a new backdrop. The mascot dancing on the field, matracas crackling from the crowd and a PA announcer shouting his name as he rounded the bases. None of it was familiar, except for the swing.
This isn’t the big leagues, and it isn’t where he wants to be. But it is the game he loves, and for now, that is enough.
“What else am I gonna do? Golf? Sit in a booth and talk about other players? I’d much rather be swinging the bat than talk about people swinging the bat,” Turner said. “You only have one opportunity and one window to play this game. Once you say you’re done, very, very, very few people come back and pick it up again. So I’m gonna go as long as I can and as long as I enjoy it.”
