
Photograph by Caitlin Abrams
Willians "La Tortuga" Astudillo at Hola Arepa
I first saw Willians Astudillo in person at the Marshalls in downtown Minneapolis, the day before I was officially supposed to meet him in person. It was a Monday early in the 2019 season. I was shopping for socks when the unlikely new folk hero of the Twins strolled by, face in his phone.
La Tortuga (as fans call him), or simply “Astudillo” (as I would soon learn he calls himself), wore a black hoodie. A backwards gray baseball cap sat askew atop his flowing hair. These curly locks add a new layer to his legend every time his helmet flies off while he rounds the bases at the not-quite-breakneck speed of an everyman who stands 5-foot-9 and 225 pounds, which is basically every time he gets a hit, which is amazingly often.
In an era of extreme sports specialization, he has also played a freakish eight different positions on the Major League field. You don’t have to be a Twins homer to find all this amazing, either: A recent Wall Street Journal profile predicted Astudillo would “save baseball.”
“Willians is at Marshalls,” I texted my editor. As I watched the future of baseball browse footwear en route to luggage, I shot another text. “The perfect start to my interview with a man whose legend rests in his ordinariness!”
Perfect start indeed. I’d wanted to meet Astudillo to see what exactly was so captivating about the 27-year-old from Venezuela. How a short, stocky guy who wasn’t particularly fast could go from nine-year minor-leaguer to darling of the collective baseball world. In addition to WSJ, national publications like Sports Illustrated and FiveThirtyEight have written admiring stories.
I formally meet Astudillo the next day at south Minneapolis Venezuelan spot Hola Arepa. (The Twins’ interpreter, Elvis Martinez, joins.) But before we get into the secret of being extraordinarily ordinary, there’s eating to be done.
“Thank you,” Astudillo says as he picks up his arepa (a corncake sandwich).
Then, as he raises it to his mouth, he smiles and quietly sighs, “Oh shiiiiiiiiiiit.”
Have you had an arepa here yet?
No. But I have my family here, and my mom makes them for me.
Ah. Your family is here. Did I see you at Marshalls yesterday with your dad?
Yes.
What were you shopping for?
A piece of luggage for him.
He played pro ball in your native Venezuela, right?
Yes.
Legend has it that he taught you how to hit by flicking corn kernels at you. You had to hit them with a broom handle.
First of all, thank you for taking the time to do this interview. I appreciate it. But, yeah, those are the things that, growing up as a kid, my dad, a baseball player, did to help me work on my vision. Little things like that, that people don’t think of, get you here.
How hard is it to make contact with a corn kernel using a broomstick?
Ha! It is difficult, but not for me.
A huge part of your mystique to baseball wonks is your absurdly low strikeout ratio. You’ve struck out less than 110 times total in your nine-plus years in pro ball. That’s a strikeout rate of about 3 percent, and the Major League average is closer to 22 percent.
I honestly didn’t know those stats. I tend not to pay attention to those things. I just try to go out there and fight and do my thing.
Did you have any other ingenious childhood baseball hacks?
Me and my cousin used to make baseballs out of socks and hit those. And I remember playing baseball with Coca-Cola caps and more broomsticks.
When was the last time you broomsticked a corn kernel or cap?
Whoa. Ha. Multiple years.
Could you still do it?
Oh, yeah. Of course.
When I Google, “La Tortuga” you’re the top result. Who first called you that?
In all honesty, I don’t remember who gave it to me. When I got this chance to be in the big leagues, it stuck. Now it’s a big thing here, so I’m just going with it.
So how long have you been La Tortuga?
I think since I was around 15 years old.
Nearly half your life! Do you like it?
You know, I don’t really enjoy it or disagree with it. At the beginning when I first got called up and people started using “La Tortuga,” I felt kind of weird about it. But I’m getting used to it. And, since the people like it, it’s OK.
You spent almost a decade in the minors before finally breaking into the majors last year with the Twins. Almost immediately you became beloved. What is it about you that captures people’s imaginations?
I think it comes down to working hard at what you do, but also enjoying it. I think that’s what the Minnesota fans appreciate. Every time I go out there—it doesn’t matter what position—I just want to do my best, help the team win. You know, it’s something I wasn’t expecting, but it goes to show that you never give up. Whatever dream you have, just keep working at it.
On Instagram, you wrote, “All my minor league career, I heard I was not going to be a big leaguer because I did not ‘look’ like one. I was too short. I was too stocky. I did not have the physical traits associated with a Major League player. Well here I am.”
The way I was raised was if you want to do something, just go ahead and do it. Nobody is going to give you anything. So, all those years in the minor leagues were a platform for me to be where I am today.
Granted, you could still be sent down a time or two just because of roster squeezes, but did you ever imagine that you’d not only make it, but become beloved?
If I told you yes, I would be lying. I mean, this year I came into Spring Training just trying to make the team.
You have a brother and a cousin in the minors. Do you think their paths will be easier, now that you’ve made it?
I think it will open some doors and some eyes. It will help people realize that you don’t have to have this prototype body, but that you can still be a good baseball player and be entertaining.
If you hadn’t made it, what else would you do?
I think I would have ended up helping kids in some sort of baseball academy in Venezuela. Just trying to help other kids make it to where I couldn’t.
You have a little daughter back there, right? Is it hard to be away?
Mmm-hmm! And, in reality, yes. But thankfully my family is doing well in Venezuela, so she’s OK. We talk every day.
Has she seen you play in the majors?
Last year she came up to see me. She’s only three years old, so she doesn’t really realize what’s going on.
The situation in Venezuela is obviously very tense. What’s it like to watch from afar?
It’s difficult. Everybody knows—the entire world knows—what’s going on over there. It’s hard for me to concentrate—to go out on the field and support my teammates, and support myself and my career—when I know that I have my daughter back in my country. But I use that as an inspiration to do the best I can.
You seem pretty laid back, but Elvis tells me you’re the life of the party in the clubhouse.
I consider this fun, but it’s also part of business. But when I’m at the ballpark, I like to entertain my teammates. Regardless of whether you’re American or Latino, I have fun with everyone.
Do you have anything to say to the teams that were content to leave you in the minors?
[Laughing]. “Thank you for the opportunity.” And that’s it.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Photograph by Nick Wosika via Getty Images
Twins Player Willians "La Tortuga" Astudillo
La Tortuga by the Numbers:
No. 64
Willians “La Tortuga” Astudillo
Height: 5’9”
If you think that’s too short to play pro ball, allow us to remind you Astudillo stands an entire inch taller than the greatest Minnesota Twin of all time, Kirby Puckett.
Weight: 225
There’s a reason they call him La Tortuga, and it’s not just because, when he’s running, he sometimes looks like an actual Ninja Turtle.
Age: 27
If you think 27 seems old for a rookie, you’d be correct. The average age of a first-year Major Leaguer hovers closer to 24. La Tortuga is a rookie long in both tooth … and hair.
9 years in the minors
After seven years in the minors, a player’s already-slim chances of making the majors drop into the dirt like a sinker. Why did such a gifted bat spend so long toiling in anonymity? (See height and weight.)
8 total positions played so far in the majors
In less than one season as a Twin, Astudillo—primarily a catcher—has played every position but short stop (give it time!), including stints in center field and on the pitcher’s mound!
.331 batting average through first 124 games of his career carried across a season
That would be 20 points higher than any other catcher in the past decade . . . and don’t even get us started on pitchers.
3% estimated career strikeout percentage — majors and minors combined
The MLB average is closer to 22 percent: In other words, La Tortuga’s strikeout percentage is absurdly low. Need more proof? The late Tony Gwynn, who Deadspin once called “The Babe Ruth of Not Striking Out,” maintained a career strikeout percentage of 4.7 percent!
Career Pitching
Total innings pitched: 1
Can you record three MLB outs?
Top fastball velocity: 86 MPH
As Major League pitchers go, that’s not major heat. But (sigh) it may be faster than what certain members of the Twins’ actual2019 pitching staff can bring.
Career era: 45.00
So maybe the pitching thing didn’t go that well. But still, on July 14, 2018, with the Twins trailing the Tampa Bay Rays 14–6, Astudillo handled the ninth inning.
2019 Salary: $560K
Astudillo’s 2019 salary sounds like a lot, but that is nearly the Major League minimum. (A typical paycheck for someone with Astudillo’s WAR—a baseball stat that measures how he compares to an average peer—would be more like $5 million per year, on the low end.)