Springer Excited to Welcome Returning Bieber, Arrivals Cease and Ponce

There are offseasons that feel routine, quiet, predictable — like the baseball world is simply turning a page rather than beginning a new chapter. And then there are offseasons like this one, where the air feels charged, where possibilities crackle, and where one veteran player looks around the clubhouse and realizes suddenly, almost breathlessly, that everything has changed.

For George Springer, that realization came the moment he heard the news:
Shane Bieber was returning. Dylan Cease was on his way. And young fireballer Ponce was joining the mix.

If you listened closely in Toronto, you could almost hear something shifting — a new pulse beating beneath the surface.

Springer has always been the kind of presence who understands the rhythms of a clubhouse, the quiet emotional currents running beneath a long season. He’s seen teams built, rebuilt, torn apart, and reborn. But as he walked through the practice facility this winter, seeing familiar faces mixing with new ones, he felt something different — the sense that this was a group being assembled with intent, with urgency, with the kind of ambition that sends a message to every player, every rival, every fan.

“Let’s go,” Springer told reporters with a grin, the excitement written across his face long before the words came. And he meant it in every way a player can mean it.

The return of Bieber was the first spark. He wasn’t coming back as a mystery or a reclamation project — he was coming back as a former ace hungry to prove the brilliance in his arm was still alive. Springer knew what that meant. A player doesn’t return unless he believes in the team and believes in himself. And when Bieber walked into the clubhouse again, quieter than most but carrying that unmistakable competitive fire in his eyes, Springer felt the atmosphere brighten just a little.

Then came Cease — a pitcher as electric as a lightning bolt and twice as unpredictable. Springer had faced him enough times to know the truth: when Cease is on, hitters walk back to the dugout shaking their heads, wondering how anyone makes contact. Having that weapon on your side instead of standing 60 feet away? That changes everything. Springer all but laughed when the deal was announced. “That’s a dude,” he said, and the knowing look in his teammates’ eyes said they agreed.

But maybe the most quietly intriguing arrival was Ponce — young, raw, unpolished, but carrying the kind of potential that makes developmental coaches whisper behind clipboards. Springer has always had a soft spot for players like that. He sees them not as long shots but as beginnings, the first chapter of something that could one day be special. The idea of taking the field with two established arms and one rising talent felt like the perfect balance between present power and future promise.

What excited Springer wasn’t just the names — it was what those names represented.
It meant the front office wasn’t standing still.
It meant Toronto was tired of almost.
It meant the team wasn’t content with respectability.
They were aiming higher.

You could feel the energy during early workouts. Bieber throwing with precision that made catchers smile. Cease unleashing breaking balls that made hitting coaches nod slowly. Ponce listening intently, absorbing everything like a sponge. And in between drills, Springer drifting from guy to guy, cracking jokes, clapping shoulders, embedding himself in the heartbeat of a pitching staff that suddenly looked — and felt — transformed.

In a way, Springer’s excitement became the unofficial announcement of the new season’s tone. Not cautious hope, not quiet optimism, but something louder, more certain. Something closer to belief.

Because Springer has been around long enough to know when a team is building something real. He’s felt the difference between a roster being filled and a roster being formed.

And this winter?
This felt like formation — deliberate, bold, confident.

So when Springer says he’s excited, it isn’t a headline.
It’s a warning.
A promise.
A spark in the cold of the offseason.

Toronto is coming.
And for the first time in a long time, Springer feels the wind at their backs.