“We mathematically, statistically, scientifically have proven that the kids who play baseball year-round are three times more likely to end up on a surgery table by their 20th birthday that those who don’t,”
Glenn Fleisig, of the American Sports Medicine Institute, citing a 10-year study targeting teenagers who pitch more than 100 innings in a calendar year.
A lot of youth baseball parents have lost their minds.
That is the only conclusion any rational human being can come to when they are faced with the reality of this chart below indicating the exponential rise of Tommy John Surgeries for baseball pitchers.
What is it going to take before we parents realize that not only are we wasting too much of our time and money on travel ball and tournaments but we are also wasting the physical health of our children.
Isn’t that ironic?
Here we are putting our boys in a situation to enjoy their physicality and fun with friends and twisting it all up in a perfect mess of ego gratification and delusions of grandeur.
“Major League Baseball gets the blame for pitchers getting injured,” says Fleisig, “But the fact is these pitchers definitely have some damage in their arm when they get them.”
Consider the case of Jameson Taillon. His elbow gave out recently at the age of 22 and after just 382 professional innings, all of them monitored with extreme caution by the team that handed him $6.5 million out of high school, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Taillon had been throwing more than 90 miles per hour since he was 16 and a sophomore in high school. He threw as hard as 99 mph as a senior.
According to Sports Illustrated…
“Beginning in July 2008, when he was 16 years old, Taillon threw at six events sponsored by Perfect Game, one of the country’s top youth baseball services, in a 13-month period. Those events occurred in the summer, fall and winter. (In the spring, he was busy pitching for his high school team in The Woodlands, Texas.) His top velocities were meticulously recorded: 92, 93, 95, 96, 96 and 97. Every high school pitcher is known by the top velocity he “hits,” even if he gets there once, as much as his very name.
As a high school senior, Taillon hit 99. In June of that year, 2010, the Pirates selected him with the second pick of the draft, in between Washington selecting Bryce Harper and Baltimore taking Manny Machado. He was labeled as another “can’t miss” in the long line of Texas schoolboy power pitchers, including Josh Beckett and Roger Clemens.
Now he joins another long line: First-round high school pitchers who are blowing out their arms before they even accrue any major league mileage — a line that hardly existed as recently as five years ago.”
The problem is that parents and coaches are seeing results in all the private training, tools and techniques they are using to capture “increased velocity”, the buzzphrase of the moment in baseball. The combination of year round travel ball and too many tournaments is putting a strain on young arms while the average speed of major league pitchers has increased from 90 MPH to 92 MPH.
But forget for a moment that you’re a parent of a prodigy because, like me, you’re not.
But you still have to suffer in this system and so does your boy.
The suffering comes whether he is an average player or shows a bit of promise.
If he’s average he’s going to be relegated to the worst positions on the field and he’s going to stop playing with some of his friends who are moving up to more competitive divisions. If he’s got a little something extra, welcome to increased batting practice, throwing lessons and all kinds of private training just to keep up.
It can become stressful on everyone.
The difficulty is that you can see differences, measurable differences, in kids that put in extra time and those that don’t. You CAN get results and that’s what gets everyone in a lather. The reality is your really don’t know what you have until post puberty.
My wife and I struggle with this and try to remind ourselves…they’re kids. And they deserve not be burdened with our unfulfilled ambitions but to simply experience the short-lived joy of being a kid.