http://sports.yahoo.com/mlb/news?slug=sh-s...o&type=lgns

 

SAN DIEGO ? The radar gun blinks wildly. It's not used to this. No one makes it strain to read out a third digit. It looks like binary code, not the speed of a pitch from a 20-year-old kid: 101.

 

It keeps showing up, 101 again and again, and as scouts peek at the number, they ask aloud what everyone else in the baseball world wonders: Will Stephen Strasburg someday throw a baseball harder than anyone has before?

 

Two men holding radar guns as well as his pitching coach said he has touched 103 mph this season. Only three others have done that, and all were major league relief pitchers, not juniors in college. Strasburg is a starter for San Diego State, and his velocity levels off in triple digits, something never seen, not from Nolan Ryan or Randy Johnson or any of the modern fireballers since the advent of the radar gun.

 

So it's no surprise that Strasburg is dominating college like no pitcher ever has. He has 74 strikeouts in 34 1/3 innings, meaning only 29 outs have come via batted ball. He fanned 23 batters in one game last year, and in seven outings with Team USA last summer, culminating with the Beijing Olympics, he struck out 62 in 41 innings.

 

 

 

 

 

And the stories about standing 60 feet away from Strasburg, apocryphal though they may seem, are more of the horror variety even if they sound comedic. His catcher, Erik Castro, tells of the time he thought a changeup was coming and Strasburg went fastball. Decapitation was barely averted.

 

"You feel fortunate when you make contact," said Rance Roundy of UNLV, who had an opposite-field single and only one strikeout in three at-bats against Strasburg.

 

"He's that overpowering."

 

The day after a recent outing ? he had 15 strikeouts in seven scoreless innings against BYU on Friday ? Strasburg leaned back in the dugout and marveled at the rapidity of his rise. How he went from an immature, overweight high school senior ignored by every major league team to the most coveted amateur player ever in three short years. How in another three months he'll have super-agent Scott Boras negotiating on his behalf the largest contract ever given to a ballplayer out of the draft.

 

Executives believe the asking price for the Washington Nationals, who hold the first overall pick, will start at $15 million. It's even been suggested that Boras could pull a fast one and attempt to destroy the draft slotting system by shooting for a deal that essentially would treat Strasburg as a front-of-the-rotation starter before he's thrown a professional pitch.

 

Just like teams pay for home run power, they pony up huge money for power pitchers who can sniff 100 mph. Strasburg sits there, a red and black cap pulled low on his head, and when asked to contemplate the prospect of throwing a baseball faster than anyone in history, he can't help himself. A smile begins to creep over his face.

 

Only then he shows he's more than a hard thrower. He's becoming a pitcher, so he delivers a curve.

 

"No," he said, the smile suddenly gone. "I don't think about that at all."

 

 

 

 

 

How can't he? The only pitch ever clocked faster than 103 mph was a 104.8 mph fastball by Detroit Tigers reliever Joel Zumaya on Oct. 10, 2006, in the American League Championship Series. Mark Wohlers and Matt Anderson are the only other pitchers known to have touched 103 mph on a radar gun, and each did it once.

 

If Strasburg knows anything about Zumaya, Wohlers or Anderson, he doesn't let on. If he realizes that none of them accomplished much more than a record reading on a radar gun, he doesn't say. Zumaya is out again with another injury in a never-ending string. Wohlers lost his control and flamed out quickly. Anderson, the first pick in the 1997 draft, lost his velocity and career to a bum shoulder.

 

No wonder talking about his fastball is uncomfortable for Strasburg. He knows pitching involves so much more. Besides, what on earth could possibly speak for itself more definitively than his crackling heater? Ambiguous it is not. If one day it becomes a pinnacle of human achievement, something noted by Guinness and baseball historians, the feat won't have required anything more from him than a windup, a delivery and a follow-through. Words would be superfluous.

 

"The scary thing is he could develop a little more velocity in the next couple of years," said a scout from a National League team. "He absolutely could be recognized as the fastest pitcher ever, at least since pitches have been clocked.

 

Any hitter bracing only for Strasburg's fastball is set up for failure, however. His breaking pitch ? a cross between a slider and curveball ? is jelly to the fastball's peanut butter. He often gets ahead in the count with the fastball then puts hitters away with the 86-mph hook.

 

"It's got curveball action and slider velocity," San Diego State pitching coach Rusty Filter said. "Stephen has an idea how to pitch. He's not a thrower."

 

Unlike almost everything else young and fast, Strasburg is rarely wild. In 210 innings of college and international competition since 2006, he's walked only 45 batters while striking out 316. He's a strike-throwing strikeout artist, the rarest of commodities.

 

"A challenge for him is to hit more bats and keep his pitch count down," Filter said. "That should happen naturally as he moves on to pro ball."

 

 

 

 

 

Strasburg wasn't always in such fast company. He'd been at San Diego State all of a week in 2006 and he was doubled over in the corner of the dugout, heaving and vomiting after a routine conditioning workout.

 

Tony Gwynn, the Hall of Famer and the Aztecs' coach, shook his head. The sorry spectacle confirmed everything he feared about the freshman pitcher. Filter had convinced Gwynn to give a scholarship to Strasburg, a local kid nobody else wanted.

 

One thought kept coming back to Gwynn: How can somebody who throws so hard be so soft?

 

Sure, Strasburg could throw 91 mph, but he was a good 30 pounds overweight. He couldn't run a few laps without getting sick. He didn't know how to bench press. The school's conditioning coach nicknamed him "Slothburg" and told him he ought to quit on the spot.

 

Questions arose off the field as well. After five days living in a dormitory, Strasburg moved back with his mother, who had recently purchased a house near the campus to help care for Strasburg's grandmother.

 

"I wasn't the most mature guy out of high school, and moving to my mom's gave me a place to sleep and relax," Strasburg said. "The dorm was an overload, too much, too soon."

 

 

Easily overwhelmed. That was becoming the label. During high school games he would melt down at the slightest provocation.

 

"I had a hard time handling anything that would go wrong, whether it was a call, a bad hop, an error, a guy hitting the ball hard," he said. "I beat myself up. Anything negative would carry over. High school was the dark ages for me."

 

Credit Filter with seeing a glimmer of light. Strasburg had a 4.37 grade-point average at nearby West Hills High, so he was a smart kid. He had a live arm despite his woeful conditioning. Filter convinced Gwynn that Strasburg had an upside, that he was worth a gamble.

 

"After two months on campus he went from 6-foot-3, 255, to 6-5, 225," Gwynn said. "His was killing it in the weight room. His fastball went from 91 mph to 97. It happened that quick."

 

 

 

 

 

The ascent hasn't abated. Strasburg was a closer as a freshman, a starter as a sophomore and the only collegiate player on the U.S. Olympic team last summer. His fastball hit 100 mph for the first time last year, and now it exceeds that barrier in nearly every outing.

 

In a recent outing, Strasburg struck out the side in the first inning, then gave up two opposite-field singles on fastballs to begin the second. Time to adjust: He struck out the next three hitters, all with his breaking ball.

 

"It's fun to watch a guy out there with that kind of stuff thinking his way through at-bats and having a plan," Gwynn said. "You can see him figuring it out on the mound."

 

No one ever doubted Strasburg's brains. His GPA is close to 4.0, and even though he's a junior, he'll need only 12 units for a bachelor's degree in public administration by summer because he accumulated so many Advanced Placement credits in high school.

 

Yet when it comes to numbers, the ones that measure his velocity and academic progress will pale in comparison to those representing the dollars he will ask from the major league team that drafts him.

 

The largest guaranteed contract for a draft pick was a $10.5 million, five-year deal the Chicago Cubs gave USC pitcher Mark Prior in 2001. First baseman Mark Teixeira ? a Boras client ? got a $9.5 million contract that same year. Tampa Bay Rays pitcher David Price, the first pick in 2007 out of Vanderbilt, signed a six-year, $11.5 million deal that included an $8.5 million guarantee. Sour economy notwithstanding, Boras will try to shatter those numbers.

 

The Nationals, with the first pick, have scouted Strasburg extensively. Acting general manager Mike Rizzo plays coy, suggesting that the Nationals could pick someone other than Strasburg, but the consensus among executives is that Washington has little choice but to cough up the exorbitant sum Boras will demand. The team lacks a drawing card. The Nationals were outbid for Teixeira during the offseason. Last year's first-round pick, Aaron Crow, didn't sign because of a squabble over a few hundred thousand dollars.

 

The Nationals have told San Diego State officials that their scouts have clocked Strasburg at 103 mph. Yet they won't say so publicly, perhaps fearing the information will only inflate his price. Asked to confirm the 103 mph readout, a Nationals spokesman checked with top brass and replied via email, "We're gonna take a pass on this one. Thanks for reaching out."

 

If the Nationals don't take Strasburg out of sheer Boras-phobia, the Seattle Mariners, who pick second, certainly will. The San Diego Padres draft third and they've already come to terms with having no shot at the hometown boy.

 

"There's no guarantee drafting pitchers, but barring injury, he is as close to a surefire top-of-the-rotation starter as I've seen," one scouting director said. "And that's the hardest role to fill without going out and paying $100 million on the free-agent market."

 

The leverage is with Strasburg. He could create more by holding out until moments before the Aug. 15 signing deadline or threatening to play in an independent league or returning to San Diego State, classic Boras tricks. For now, he'd rather just continue to rear back and fire.

 

"It's tough to get it out of my head when people bring it up all the time, but it'll take care of itself," Strasburg said. "I'm going day to day and trying not to think about that stuff."

 

 

 

 

 

Strasburg knows he's the heat of the moment, that his velocity is on the minds of every batter he faces. Don't get him wrong. He understands the allure of velocity, the bigger, better, faster, stronger ethos that runs professional sports. Knock 5 mph off his fastball and knock $5 million off his asking price.

 

Strasburg understands, too, that velocity alone will not lead to enshrinement in the Hall of Fame alongside his coach. The list of pitchers who have had fastballs recorded 102 mph or higher confirms that flamethrowing often equates to flaming out.

 

Only Randy Johnson and Justin Verlander are major league starters. There are eight relievers and 21-year-old left-hander Aroldis Chapman, who pitches for the Cuban national team and hit 100 mph in a World Baseball Classic loss to Japan. Chapman was clocked at 102 mph earlier this year.

 

Radar guns never caught Ryan faster than 100.9 mph. Walter Johnson and Bob Feller are considered the hardest throwers of the pre-gun era, and it's impossible to quantify their fastest pitches. Feller once threw a pitch alongside a speeding motorcycle that was approximated at an impossible-to-verify 104 mph. The pitcher widely acknowledged to have thrown harder than anyone in modern baseball history, Steve Dalkowski, never made it to the big leagues because of wildness.

 

The hardest throwers pitch from a precipice. They are always one delivery away from a catastrophic injury, something tearing in their shoulder or elbow, a direct result of their singular prowess. Mark Prior, the last golden-armed, can't-miss product from San Diego, hasn't pitched in more than two years because of injuries.

 

If Strasburg thinks about any of that, it doesn't show in his day-to-day routine. He loves golf and unwinds at night by putting into a glass in his bedroom. Although his diet has improved since high school, he devours fast-food chicken sandwiches. And he cracks the books more than a player soon to become an instant millionaire needs to.

 

Strasburg, it seems, wants to separate himself. Not just from every other college pitcher ? he's already done that. No, he wants something beyond the Zumaya, Wohlers and Anderson numbers. Something beyond their fate.

 

"When I came here I wanted to prove I wasn't soft, that I was a bulldog," he said. "Now I want to leave behind a tradition, that this school is somewhere a player can come to develop, and to win.

 

"I'll have more to prove later. I understand that. Maybe if I keep the same approach and just pitch, just get batters out and not worry about the other stuff, I can keep doing this for a long time."

 

 

Boras is going to get him a crapload of money and the kid will blow out his arm by 26.

There are so many things about this kid that should hopefully not break the draft pricing... I seriously hate Boras for this if he tries to get frontline starter money off the bat.

There are so many things about this kid that should hopefully not break the draft pricing... I seriously hate Boras for this if he tries to get frontline starter money off the bat.

 

 

I'm sure the main intention for this is he knows odds are the kid is going to hurt his arm in some way very soon. throwing that hard is not natural. he's going to get as much money as he possibly can because once his shoulder gives out he's not going to be able to make any more money. luckily the kid is smart so he'll atleast be able to get a regular job after.

There are so many things about this kid that should hopefully not break the draft pricing... I seriously hate Boras for this if he tries to get frontline starter money off the bat.

 

 

I'm sure the main intention for this is he knows odds are the kid is going to hurt his arm in some way very soon. throwing that hard is not natural. he's going to get as much money as he possibly can because once his shoulder gives out he's not going to be able to make any more money. luckily the kid is smart so he'll atleast be able to get a regular job after.

 

 

Well, even aside from the inherent risk of the arm blowing out... some things are misleading... like not walking anyone... if you throw 101mph, even if it's a ball, a collegiate (or equally skilled) batter will probably swing (and miss) at it. There's almost zero doubt in my mind this kid will blow through AA and hit his first bump at AAA... unless Boras gets him one of those "Guaranteed MLB appearance" contracts, in which case, it'll be there.

 

Looking at his mechanics, which are going to be key, they're gonna notice things like his elbow being above his shoulder, or the "inverted L" he makes all point to trouble...

 

I dunno, I'm just channeling my eventual anger at Boras through this kid...

This kid is disgusting. Ive read a couple of atricles on him saying he could pitch in the bigs right now and do well. Some scouts say hes already better than AJ or as good. Only thing is I just cant see his arm holding up, If I was him id try to keep it around 95 and only crank it up when i had to.

This kid is disgusting. Ive read a couple of atricles on him saying he could pitch in the bigs right now and do well. Some scouts say hes already better than AJ or as good. Only thing is I just cant see his arm holding up, If I was him id try to keep it around 95 and only crank it up when i had to.

 

 

Some scouts have praised him the greatest draft prospect ever.

it sucks that the nationals own the first pick in the draft this year

we might get stuck facing strsburg 5 times a year.

although i do believe he could go back to college if the nationals cannot afford to pay him. Since hes going to make a sh** load.

His mechanics are horrifying. Almost a mirror image of Prior.

This kid is disgusting. Ive read a couple of atricles on him saying he could pitch in the bigs right now and do well. Some scouts say hes already better than AJ or as good. Only thing is I just cant see his arm holding up, If I was him id try to keep it around 95 and only crank it up when i had to.

 

 

Some scouts have praised him the greatest draft prospect ever.

 

Like Bobbob said, that's been said before... Prior and Pete Incaviglia - and how have/did their careers go?

 

And like I've been alluding to and bob also said... I'm genuinely afraid of a terrible arm injury.

I never go the whole mechanics argument. Throwing a baseball overhand is a unnatural motion and violent. Look at Lincecum not exactly great mechanics but more than gets the job done.

Stephen Strasburg Is Ready To Bring It

BY Lee Jenkins of Sports Illustrated

 

Erik Castro has a Wilson A2000 catcher's mitt, black with tan webbing, made of steerhide so supple it can absorb a 102-mph fastball and barely make a sound. Castro is a catcher for San Diego State, and on the night of March 13, as the Aztecs hosted UNLV, he dropped into his crouch and extended his A2000 into the light fog at Tony Gwynn Stadium. San Diego State junior righthander Stephen Strasburg, he of the 102-mph heater, aimed for the leather. As horsehide met steerhide, a string on the glove snapped. The webbing came unhinged. Castro, oblivious to the tattered piece of equipment dangling from his left hand, threw the ball back to Strasburg. The Aztecs ace fired again, and by the grace of God, the pitch was fouled away. "If not," Castro says, "I think I would have died." Chances are, his chest protector would have saved him, but his point is well-taken: Stephen Strasburg has killer stuff.

 

Over a 40-year career a major league scout of amateur talent will raise his radar gun perhaps a million times at high school and college games. And almost every time only two digits will pop up on his screen. So in the rare instance when he sees a third digit, it is like witnessing the elusive green flash that follows a perfect sunset. After Strasburg touched 101 in the first inning against UNLV, scouts behind home plate reacted with a torrent of hyperbole. Or was it hyperbole? "I've never seen anyone like him," said one. "He's a once-in-a-lifetime talent." "He doesn't need the minor leagues," added another. "He's ready for the majors right now." "The only pitcher I could even compare him to is Roger Clemens in his heyday," offered a third. "This is something you have to see to believe."

 

Strasburg is famous for those absurd radar-gun readings, for the friction his fingers generate when they rub off the seams, for the hiss the ball makes when it zips out of his hand. There are a handful of major leaguers who reach triple digits (Justin Verlander of the Detroit Tigers, Bobby Jenks of the Chicago White Sox, to name two), but few of them have his delicate touch. Says San Diego Padres general manager Kevin Towers, who watched Strasburg in an intrasquad game this season, "He was dominating, as dominating as anyone I've seen. He really has no flaws. You see guys throw in the high 90s, but they usually have no idea where it's going. He can throw in the high 90s comfortably and locate it." Strasburg fanned 23 batters in a game last season, and at week's end he was 4-0 with a 1.57 ERA, but his most startling stat may be his career strikeout-to-walk ratio: 254 to 38, in 168 2/3 innings.

 

Strasburg cuts a menacing figure on the mound -- 6' 4", 220 pounds, in a black hat, black jersey, black pants, black spikes and bright-red stirrups showing over his calves. He has piercing powder-blue eyes, long blond sideburns and arms that nearly reach his kneecaps. At the top of his delivery he turns his left hip slightly toward third base, as if pulling back a bow and arrow, and then unloads with a high three-quarter release. "It's so smooth," says Aztecs pitching coach Rusty Filter, "it doesn't look like he's throwing as hard as he is." Strasburg has two fastballs, a riding four-seamer that has been clocked at 102 and a sinking two-seamer that tops out only in the mid-90s. That sort of heat can make good hitters look slow; Strasburg's sweeping slider can make them look silly. "We were actually sitting on the fastball," says UNLV designated hitter Ryan Thornton. "I know that sounds crazy, sitting on a pitch that's 100 miles an hour. But it just shows you how tough his slider is."

 

Strasburg is the consensus No. 1 pick in this year's draft -- if the Washington Nationals don't take him, they might get chased back to Montreal -- but he is almost as unaffected by status as his coach, former Padres star Tony Gwynn. Strasburg was the only collegian on the U.S. Olympic team last summer, but when he got the invitation, he assumed he was just going to be a practice player, not the starter of a semifinal game against Cuba. He has declined to take out an insurance policy on himself, and against UNLV he slid into first base to make a putout, tweaking his hamstring. After San Diego State home games he does fieldwork with his teammates, sweeping dirt off the mound and using his hands to pack it with wet clay. "I'm just a college kid," says Strasburg, albeit one who is advised by superagent Scott Boras.

 

In the modern sports world it is hard to find a phenom who comes out of nowhere. Professional scouting is too organized, amateur athletics too sophisticated. But Strasburg won just one game as a junior at West Hills High outside San Diego, went undrafted after his senior year and failed to impress Gwynn. "To me, he didn't have a lot of confidence," Gwynn recalls. Strasburg was 250 pounds, had never lifted a weight in his life, and after practice every day went to Estrada's Taco Shop and scarfed down a California burrito, packed with carne asada, and french fries. He could throw 90, but he was so out of shape that his knees would occasionally buckle during games, forcing coaches to help him off the field. "He would just collapse," says his high school coach, Scott Hopgood. "It was scary. His knees couldn't support his weight." When scouts asked Hopgood to name his best pitcher, he pointed them to a polished lefty named Aaron Richardson.

 

"I know everybody now is asking, 'How did you miss on Stephen Strasburg in high school?' " says a major league scout. "But we didn't miss. He was soft in every way." Strasburg would bark at infielders after errors and at umpires after bad calls. If he gave up a couple of hits and the opposing dugout started to chirp, he had a tendency to overthrow his fastball, which would then flatten out and get smacked even harder. "I told scouts not to draft me," Strasburg says. "I wasn't ready."

 

 

Filter saw those radar-gun readings, that swimmer's wingspan, and persuaded Gwynn to take him. During Strasburg's first night on campus it became clear he was a little different. He was living in a dorm at University Towers and was asleep at 10:30 p.m. when his roommate stumbled in with five female students. Strasburg was aghast. A few days later he moved in with his mother and grandmother, who share a nearby house. Then by the end of Strasburg's second week, when conditioning began, he was ready to drop out of school altogether. "I was this close," he says, holding his thumb next to his index finger. "I was going to find a job. We have a Home Depot and a Lowe's near our house."

 

The man responsible for almost driving Strasburg away, and then for whipping him into shape, is Dave Ohton, the Aztecs' barrel-chested strength coach. When Marshall Faulk was playing football at the school, Ohton called him "a visitor" because he was so extraordinarily gifted and physically mature, he had to be an alien life force. Strasburg was no visitor. When the baseball team convened in September 2007 for preseason workouts on the football field, Ohton had the players warm up by running from the goal line to the 50 and back. Strasburg could not get through four sprints without vomiting. "Is there something wrong with you?" Ohton asked. "Do you have a medical condition?"

 

Strasburg bowed his head, his chubby cheeks a bright red. "Just out of shape," he said. Ohton nicknamed him Slothburg, which he later shortened to Sloth. "I demoralized this young man," Ohton says. "I didn't even want him around the other players. I had never seen a college athlete who was as far behind as he was. I didn't think it was possible to be that bad." After two weeks of conditioning and purging Strasburg passed Ohton on the stairs in the weight room. "I appreciate your staying on top of me," Strasburg said. Ohton paused at the top of the staircase. "Sloth," he said, "you really should consider quitting. You're not going to make it."

 

Recalling that exchange, Ohton shakes his head. "Well," he says, "I guess he shoved those words up my ass." Strasburg thought about the scouts who had ignored him, the strength coach who had slighted him, and decided he was not ready to mix paint at Home Depot just yet. Not only did Strasburg stick with Ohton's conditioning program, but he also added Bikram yoga classes to improve his concentration and flexibility. His mother, Kathleen Swett, a retired dietitian, taught him how to cook his own burritos. When Strasburg arrived at San Diego State, he could do one bench press at 115 pounds; now he can do 21 reps at 135 pounds. He leg-pressed 560 pounds; now he leg-presses 1,200 pounds. His vertical jump was 24 inches; now it is 35 inches. His gut turned into a six-pack, then into an eight-pack. "He'd come in the door and lift up his shirt and say, 'Check it out,' " says Swett.

 

Of course, given baseball's recent history, all radical changes in body type are viewed with suspicion. But Strasburg did not get bigger. He got leaner. "I take a lot of pride in doing this naturally," he says. "It's hard work that's paying off -- not cheating the game."

 

As the pounds dropped, the velocity rose. He went from the low 90s in the fall of his freshman year to the mid-90s in the spring. He was clocked at 98 in the summer with the Torrington (Conn.) Twisters of the New England Collegiate Baseball League. In the fall of his sophomore year he hit 100 for the first time, and by the fall of his junior year he was at 101. Such spikes are unusual, but not unheard of. Chicago Cubs righthander Rich Harden went from 95 to 100 in one year -- between 2002 and '03, when he was in the A's minor league system -- due mostly to better conditioning and a couple of changes to his mechanics. "At that age a lot of people are still maturing physically," says Rick Peterson, who was Harden's pitching coach with the A's. "You might have a guy who was shaving once a week and is now shaving every day." Indeed, Strasburg said he only started getting facial hair in his senior year of high school. Now he has a goatee.

 

Given that he is only 20, Strasburg may have a couple of more miles per hour left in his right arm, but nobody with his best interests at heart wants to see him throw any harder. "It's better to throw 105 than 95, but it's better to throw 95 and be on the field than be in a trainer's room telling people you used to throw 105," says Glenn Fleisig, a research director at American Sports Medicine Institute in Birmingham who studies pitching. "The harder you throw, the more success you have, but you're pushing your body to higher demand." Strasburg is already stretching his limits. A person throwing a 90-mph fastball rotates his arm at a rate of 22 times per second. The more rotations, the more strain. As Stephen's father, Jim, a real estate developer, puts it, "I'm hoping he's maxed out." No one understands better than Gwynn what's at stake. He only uses Strasburg once a week and limits him to about 115 pitches. "I won't let him leave his arm here," Gwynn says.

 

Recession or not, assuming Strasburg is represented by Boras, he should clear $10 million when he is drafted in June, and he could conceivably be in the majors by September. The San Diego area has produced some pitching treasures in the past decade -- Barry Zito, Aaron Harang, Mark Prior, Cole Hamels and Joel Zumaya -- none of whom landed with their hometown team. Missing out on this one would sting the Padres even more. When Strasburg turned two, he wore a Padres helmet and Gwynn wristbands to his birthday party, where he was presented with a Gwynn poster. Two years ago, when Gwynn was inducted into the Hall of Fame, Strasburg took a day off from summer ball to be at the ceremony in Cooperstown, N.Y. His favorite player is San Diego ace Jake Peavy, and after beating UNLV, he wore a Padres hat while signing autographs. If the Padres had lost four more games last season, they would have the first pick and could snag Strasburg. Instead, they pick third and have to hope that the Nationals and the Seattle Mariners get spooked by Boras. "A lot of things can happen before the draft," says Washington G.M. Mike Rizzo. "There is a chance of injury. Other players come to the forefront. But we are scouting him diligently. He is a very impressive package."

 

The scouts only have one question left: How might Strasburg cope with failure in the big leagues? Will he bark at an infielder or scream at an umpire or overthrow his fastball? When Strasburg has given up hits -- which isn't often, considering he had whiffed 74 batters in 34 1/3 innings through Sunday -- he usually just lashes out at himself, and he does it in the dugout rather than on the mound. That high school kid with the chubby cheeks and rabbit ears is gone, replaced by the best amateur pitcher in the country and perhaps one of the best ever, with a 102-mph fastball and so much else. At San Diego State, there's a name for a person like this.

 

Visitor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never go the whole mechanics argument. Throwing a baseball overhand is a unnatural motion and violent. Look at Lincecum not exactly great mechanics but more than gets the job done.

 

While that's true, it's also VERY true that there are methods to prevent this. Look at guys like Greg Maddux vs Chris Carpenter. There's a reason Chris has been on the DL a ton and Maddux what... never, if at all, I can count how many on one hand.

 

Linecum's mechanics are amazingly sound, he has one timing flaw in the backend of his windup, but the rest is surprisingly easy on his arm/shoulder, compared to other major leaguers. He may be at injury risk this year from being overworked, however, not sure what his IP load has been.

 

Mechanics are a HUGE HUGE HUGE deal for pitchers

 

Burnett, Harden, Zumaya and Ben Sheets were comparables to Strasburgh and how are their arms?

 

Check it out

 

http://www.chrisoleary.com/projects/Baseba...nStrasburg.html

I never go the whole mechanics argument. Throwing a baseball overhand is a unnatural motion and violent. Look at Lincecum not exactly great mechanics but more than gets the job done.

 

While that's true, it's also VERY true that there are methods to prevent this. Look at guys like Greg Maddux vs Chris Carpenter. There's a reason Chris has been on the DL a ton and Maddux what... never, if at all, I can count how many on one hand.

 

Linecum's mechanics are amazingly sound, he has one timing flaw in the backend of his windup, but the rest is surprisingly easy on his arm/shoulder, compared to other major leaguers. He may be at injury risk this year from being overworked, however, not sure what his IP load has been.

 

Mechanics are a HUGE HUGE HUGE deal for pitchers

 

Burnett, Harden, Zumaya and Ben Sheets were comparables to Strasburgh and how are their arms?

 

Check it out

 

http://www.chrisoleary.com/projects/Baseba...nStrasburg.html

 

I dont think its fair to compare Maddux to any power pitcher. While he did have great mechanics he also didnt put any where near the strain on his elbow as a power pitcher does. From what i remeber about Maddux he threw a lot of 2 seamers , cut FB, and changge ups, ,mixing in a curve and maybe a slider once in a while. The slider from what i understand is very hard on the arm and lots of power guys throw it. I thinks its just a given if you throw hard int he mid to upper 90's your gonna eventually have some arm trouble. Im sure the nats or who ever gets this kid would be more than happy if he turned out like smoltz.

I dont think its fair to compare Maddux to any power pitcher. While he did have great mechanics he also didnt put any where near the strain on his elbow as a power pitcher does. From what i remeber about Maddux he threw a lot of 2 seamers , cut FB, and changge ups, ,mixing in a curve and maybe a slider once in a while. The slider from what i understand is very hard on the arm and lots of power guys throw it. I thinks its just a given if you throw hard int he mid to upper 90's your gonna eventually have some arm trouble. Im sure the nats or who ever gets this kid would be more than happy if he turned out like smoltz.

 

What arm trouble did Nolan Ryan have? Roger Clemens? CC Sabathia, Curt Schilling, Randy Johnson... these guys have all not had the injury problem because of (mostly) clean mechanics. Your reply to this may be "Because they were all-time greats" but it's been basically proven that guys who throw in that range are typically definitively better than guys who don't... so longer careers throwing like that will make you great. But the gist is, there are plenty of hard throwers without injury history, and that's specifically because they don't increase the risk of injury through poor mechanics.

 

Also, yes, turning into a John Smotlz would be great, but the risk of turning into Mark Prior is just as great, if not greater, based on his mechanics right now.

I never go the whole mechanics argument. Throwing a baseball overhand is a unnatural motion and violent. Look at Lincecum not exactly great mechanics but more than gets the job done.

 

While that's true, it's also VERY true that there are methods to prevent this. Look at guys like Greg Maddux vs Chris Carpenter. There's a reason Chris has been on the DL a ton and Maddux what... never, if at all, I can count how many on one hand.

 

Linecum's mechanics are amazingly sound, he has one timing flaw in the backend of his windup, but the rest is surprisingly easy on his arm/shoulder, compared to other major leaguers. He may be at injury risk this year from being overworked, however, not sure what his IP load has been.

 

Mechanics are a HUGE HUGE HUGE deal for pitchers

 

Burnett, Harden, Zumaya and Ben Sheets were comparables to Strasburgh and how are their arms?

 

Check it out

 

http://www.chrisoleary.com/projects/Baseba...nStrasburg.html

 

I dont think its fair to compare Maddux to any power pitcher. While he did have great mechanics he also didnt put any where near the strain on his elbow as a power pitcher does. From what i remeber about Maddux he threw a lot of 2 seamers , cut FB, and changge ups, ,mixing in a curve and maybe a slider once in a while. The slider from what i understand is very hard on the arm and lots of power guys throw it. I thinks its just a given if you throw hard int he mid to upper 90's your gonna eventually have some arm trouble. Im sure the nats or who ever gets this kid would be more than happy if he turned out like smoltz.

 

How many arm injuries did Nolan Ryan or Roger Clemens deal with?

 

The difference is the timing of his hips and getting his power not from whipping his arm around extremely fast but from using their whole body to generate power (what Clemens and Nolan did), versus almost straight arm throwing, with very little help from his core or legs, which is what Prior and Strasburg do.

 

There seems to have been a move over the past 20 years to bring in big leg kicks and 'harness' pitching mechanics. To make it more repeatable, basically. But in doing this a lot of pitcher's careers have been damaged by trying to generate too much power from their elbow and shoulders.

 

Look at Tom Seaver:

 

 

Look at Strasburg:

 

 

 

Do you see the difference?

i hope this kid makes it.

i remember watching him in the olympics and being wowed.

but i wont be suprised if we all forget about him by the time he's 26-27.

I dont think its fair to compare Maddux to any power pitcher. While he did have great mechanics he also didnt put any where near the strain on his elbow as a power pitcher does. From what i remeber about Maddux he threw a lot of 2 seamers , cut FB, and changge ups, ,mixing in a curve and maybe a slider once in a while. The slider from what i understand is very hard on the arm and lots of power guys throw it. I thinks its just a given if you throw hard int he mid to upper 90's your gonna eventually have some arm trouble. Im sure the nats or who ever gets this kid would be more than happy if he turned out like smoltz.

 

What arm trouble did Nolan Ryan have? Roger Clemens? CC Sabathia, Curt Schilling, Randy Johnson... these guys have all not had the injury problem because of (mostly) clean mechanics. Your reply to this may be "Because they were all-time greats" but it's been basically proven that guys who throw in that range are typically definitively better than guys who don't... so longer careers throwing like that will make you great. But the gist is, there are plenty of hard throwers without injury history, and that's specifically because they don't increase the risk of injury through poor mechanics.

 

Also, yes, turning into a John Smotlz would be great, but the risk of turning into Mark Prior is just as great, if not greater, based on his mechanics right now.

 

 

 

I cant remeber Ryan having any arm trouble but i do know he has said he pitched through pain a lot and never told any one. But yeha i agree that good mechanics if you throw hard can help your arm.

I cant remeber Ryan having any arm trouble but i do know he has said he pitched through pain a lot and never told any one. But yeha i agree that good mechanics if you throw hard can help your arm.

 

When during his career was that though, and where did the pain originate?

 

I dunno if you know for sure, and Im certainly not trying to be argumentative at this point, but I'm a huge Nolan Ryan fanboy and my best guess as to the origin of that pain is due to him pitching into his 40s. Also, I'm not sure it'd be arm pain, but back/hip pain from all the torque he generated.

I cant remeber Ryan having any arm trouble but i do know he has said he pitched through pain a lot and never told any one. But yeha i agree that good mechanics if you throw hard can help your arm.

 

When during his career was that though, and where did the pain originate?

 

I dunno if you know for sure, and Im certainly not trying to be argumentative at this point, but I'm a huge Nolan Ryan fanboy and my best guess as to the origin of that pain is due to him pitching into his 40s. Also, I'm not sure it'd be arm pain, but back/hip pain from all the torque he generated.

 

 

I heard him say it on one show on ESPN classic, he said his arm didnt feel great lots of time later in his career like you said, but he would push through.

If I was this kid, I'd say I'm going to keep playing college ball. Then, tell only the Padres I'm ready to come out.

 

Should get him to number 3 right?

If I was this kid, I'd say I'm going to keep playing college ball. Then, tell only the Padres I'm ready to come out.

 

Should get him to number 3 right?

 

Probably not.

 

What could work is having Boras tell the Nats and Mariners if they decide to choose him, he will not sign, and that's that.

Boras is going to be very disappointed if he thinks he's going to get $50 million. I'm guessing $15 guaranteed with maybe a very generous incentives package that gets to $20 million. I'd love to see Boras tell his 21 year old client, whose never thrown a professional pitch, he is turning down $15 million guaranteed dollars the night before the signing deadline just because he wants to play hardball and set a precedent.

 

LOVE to see it Boras. Kid hasn't made a dime his life, this will set him up for the rest of his life even if he is a flop, and is by far the highest paid amateaur contract of all time. LOVE LOVE LOVE to see it Boras.

 

What a joke this hype has become.

Boras is going to be very disappointed if he thinks he's going to get $50 million. I'm guessing $15 guaranteed with maybe a very generous incentives package that gets to $20 million. I'd love to see Boras tell his 21 year old client, whose never thrown a professional pitch, he is turning down $15 million guaranteed dollars the night before the signing deadline just because he wants to play hardball and set a precedent.

 

LOVE to see it Boras. Kid hasn't made a dime his life, this will set him up for the rest of his life even if he is a flop, and is by far the highest paid amateaur contract of all time. LOVE LOVE LOVE to see it Boras.

 

What a joke this hype has become.

 

Lou, you should change your avatar from Willie Tavaras to Emilio Bonifacio.

Lou, you should change your avatar from Willie Tavaras to Emilio Bonifacio.

Bonifacio's MLB achievements pale in comparison to Willy Taveras 68 SB/64 Run season and a .296 slugging... in Colorado!

 

Bonifacio wishes he was so inept to be the 2009 player of the year.

Lou, you should change your avatar from Willie Tavaras to Emilio Bonifacio.

Bonifacio's MLB achievements pale in comparison to Willy Taveras 68 SB/64 Run season and a .296 slugging... in Colorado!

 

Bonifacio wishes he was so inept to be the 2009 player of the year.

 

Well, with all the recent Boni talk, I figured it might just be appropriate.