How Oregon’s Mason Neville Went From SEC Afterthought To Player Of The Year Contender

He fouled off a pitch, laughed out loud mid-swing then turned around and smashed the next offering out of the park. 

“It had gotten so slow for him in the batter’s box that he knew he was going to hit the next pitch out,” Wasikowski said. “I’ve never had a hitter react like that. It’s a trip.”

It’s rare that such a small moment in the backdrop of the entire college season can be so defining. But, in this specific instance, there really was no doubt. It showed exactly how far Neville had come.

Before he was lighting up radar guns with gaudy exit velocities or demolishing Oregon’s single-season home run record, Neville was a highly-regarded high school recruit, a multi-sport athlete out of Las Vegas with tantalizing tools and blue-chip projection. 

He was courted by top programs across the country and initially committed to Arizona as a sophomore, drawn to Jay Johnson’s vision. When Johnson left for LSU, though, Neville pivoted and honored a new opportunity at Arkansas, choosing to develop in one of the sport’s most competitive environments.

He arrived in Fayetteville in the fall of 2022 as a decorated freshman, confident and eager to prove himself. But what followed was nothing short of jarring.

Neville batted .111 with a double, two RBIs and 20 strikeouts in just 27 at-bats in 19 games. For a player used to succeeding on talent alone, the stumble was seismic. To Neville, it felt cataclysmic.

“In a way, it was a wake-up call,” he told Baseball America. “You have all these big dreams, think you’re going to start or play as a freshman and do all these big things. And then you have 24-year-olds, 23-year-olds that are like twice your size that you can’t even really compete with on the same level even though you thought you are kind of talented.”

But there was no hiding from the numbers. Neville struck out in nearly three-quarters of his plate appearances, a level of failure that can break players at that age.

For Neville, though, it forced a choice.

“You either work your tail off and continue to get better, or for some people, that’s kind of the end of it,” he said. “They never recover from that.”

But Neville, who admitted that at times he struggled, fought it. Looking back, it changed everything.

“I mean, that was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in my college career,” he said.

Wasikowski saw it from a distance—the mindset, the physicality, the potential to be great. So when Neville entered the transfer portal after his freshman season, Oregon made its move.

“They still believed in me and still wanted me to come here,” Neville said.

To Wasikowski, the appeal was clear. Neville’s talent had never been in question. Even through his early struggles, he flashed his athleticism. He always moved well, Wasikowski said. 

What Neville was missing was structure, accountability and time on the field and in the weight room. He needed to overhaul his thought process and relationship with training. 

“When we first got him, he wasn’t physically super strong,” Wasikowski said. “He was kind of a skinny, wiry, athletic guy that didn’t have a lot of strength. And so he needed to enhance his body big time.”

That process began immediately. Wasikowski, fresh off a hip procedure, found himself in the weight room rehabbing daily and Neville right there with him.

“Mason is a challenge-oriented type of a guy,” Wasikowski said. “So he started challenging me, basically, to really push myself to come back. And so I started really challenging him… and sure enough, Mason started going nuts in the weight room.”

The physical gains were striking. 

Neville’s rotational acceleration numbers shot through the roof. He added mass and force, which started to cause the ball to jump off his bat in batting practice like never before. The breakthrough was intentional. It was layered.

Neville credits Oregon’s player development staff for fostering it.

“They’re great mentors, not just baseball coaches,” he said. “That was a big thing I needed… just growing mentally in the game and off the field as a young man.”

Wasikowski noticed the shift right away. 

Neville began taking care of himself in all the ways that matter. He was getting his rest, showing up alert and engaged, eating right, investing in his teammates and the program. He was enjoying the game again, Wasikowski said.

“I mean, geez, there’s a lot of distractions in college,” Wasikowski said. “But I think he’s making great decisions now.”

The result has been one of the most explosive, transformative seasons in college baseball.

With two regular-season games remaining, Neville is slashing .314/.460/.809 and leads the nation with 26 home runs. He’s driven in 56 runs, piled up 15 doubles and drawn nearly as many walks (51) as he has strikeouts (54). His plate discipline has matured, his swing decisions tightened and his offensive presence hardened by failure and refined by relentless work.

Wasikowski asserted that Neville is not just mashing—he’s winning. And there’s a difference. Neville has started every game in center field and occupied the leadoff spot all season, a nontraditional placement for a player with such thunderous power. But for Oregon, it’s made perfect sense.

“I want to be the spark plug early,” Neville said. “Whether that’s a home run or a barrel or a walk or just a competitive at-bat, I want to give guys confidence from that first pitch of the game.”

He plays the game with visible fire to accomplish that, too, blending charisma and edge with an old-school refusal to be outcompeted. 

“It’s all love off the field,” Neville said. “But when I’m on the field, I’m looking to smash somebody.”

That mindset has permeated the roster and propelled Oregon into the thick of the Big Ten title race with a share of the regular-season crown still within reach and the Ducks firmly in the mix to host a regional. 

Neville’s influence can’t be overstated. He’s obliterated expectations—his own, his coaches’ and certainly those of any scout who remembers the player who struck out 20 times as a freshman.

“He can do whatever he wants to do on a baseball field,” Wasikowski said. “Whatever he chooses to do, he can do. If a pro team calls me and asks, I’m telling them: potential all-star. That’s what I see.”

For Neville, the mission isn’t complete. Not yet. But in a sport that demands constant adjustment, his transformation already stands as one of the most remarkable in 2025.

“It’s clicking now,” Neville said. “And I still think there’s more work to do, which is awesome.”