He was born into a brewing family in Germany (hence the name “Suds”) and played ball in Ireland as a young pro, racking up a 50-31 record overseas. That was back when the fastball popped and sizzled, back when he struck out 257 hitters in 220 innings. Euro hitters or not, that’s some serious smokin’ there. He threw in four All-Star games, and he spun a no hitter in Madrid.
On that strength, Trauner came to the US as a 26-year-old bonus baby, signing a Big Deal despite the fact that he was hurt at the time. Torn flexor—another big deal that the ball club he signed with, the Birmingham Bandits, tried to downplay in the press to keep their fans from revolting over the idea of giving $45M to a left-handed pitcher from Europe with only one good arm (and the wrong one). He struggled, of course, and the fact is that a lefty who struggles in the Bandit’s park is a sorry sight to see.
“They don’t call it Bombingham for nothing,” Trauner said one day, causing no little controversy in referencing an ugly portion of the city’s history while talking about the ballpark where pop flies turn into grand slams. He shrugs about it now, though. “Hey, I lived in Ireland and I lived in Birmingham. They both have their past. You can’t ignore it.”
Perhaps true, but fans live in an interesting state between the "now" and the "past." And when you’re in the middle of throwing a 6.13 ERA for a season, the fans won’t ignore that, either. And when you’re edging up toward your thirties and your fastball has lost a couple inches, the bravado no longer comes off as brash and exciting. When you win 25 games and lose 39 in three seasons, you begin to wear out a welcome, even in the deep south—or perhaps especially in the deep south (depending on your viewpoint). A 14-8, 4.07 fourth year gave Suds a bit of redemption, but the wheels fell off in his last season, and even a Pollyanna saw that the end was here.
Enter Yellow Springs—a team that needed something from the left side. Anything. They offered him an astounding front-loaded deal: $9M in year one, $4.5M last season, and $2.7 this. The hitch was that they wanted him in the bullpen. It hurt his pride. “I’m a starter by mentality,” Trauner explains. “I like the cycle, the lead-up to the game, the getting on of the Game Face, then the chess of it all. I like that. I like the idea that I’m the guy, and the feeling you get when you walk in the clubhouse to get ready and all the guys know it’s your turn. It’s a special feeling.”
But he took the deal.
And the results have been … nice.
2025 saw the 6’1”, 215 pound German throw to a 3.97 ERA in 80 games. The strikeouts came back to over 8 per 9 innings: 103 in 111 innings (2 starts). Last year was even better: 3.67 ERA, 115 K in 127 innings. He was pressed into 11 starts, but appeared in 50 games. His walk rate per nine innings became a sterling 1.7.
As we sit on the deck, the smell of grilling meat grows thicker. The pitcher talks about those experiences and more. The veteran isn’t particularly known for his off-season regimen, but he was working out earlier today at the local Planet Fitness. He tells me that he goes there thirty minutes a day, whether he does anything or not. “Just being in the gym makes me feel better about the day, but I admit sometimes I just shoot the shit with the guys, as you say here.”
Trauner is 33 now, turning 34 in June. He’s in the last season of that strange little contract. He’s beginning to settle down (for example, when he returned to Deutschland for the off season after his first year at YS, he brought his long-time on-and-off girlfriend back with him. They expect to get married during the All Star break … “unless something wonderful happens for Sven” she says). He would like to stay. “I’m getting comfortable here,” he says. “But the game is the game. I understand how things work now. I see the team is putting a lot of parts together, and Ron has said he’s going to watch me pitch through the spring before making any decisions.”
That decision could be an extension, though it would most certainly be at less cash than Trauner’s seen before. Or it could be a trade. Left-handed guys who can strike out a guy an inning and still exhibit control are always valuable. Or, it could be a long glide to another round of Free Agency.
Whatever the decision, Trauner understand the deal.
“It’s baseball. What can you do?”
Then the sausage is done and the beer mugs are refilled. I sit and listen to Sven Trauner and his girlfriend tell jokes in English, but laugh together and make off-comments in German. It’s dinner time at the Trauners, and the future can take a back seat.
