My Working Theories on High Schoolers

My thinking on high school talent was stimulated by some work by Bryan Smith over at Fangraphs. In particular, he published some career WAR accumulations of recent players drafted as catchers and shortstops. Even though he only looked at a relative handful of players, I doubt expanding the scope is going to change what the data suggests. It confirms what has long been assumed: the great ones tend to be picked straight out of high school, but overall, high schoolers are much more likely to never make it.

When I started looking at the draft more seriously back in 2006, I went in with a heavy preference for college players. I knew that the success rate was higher, and I figured whatever higher end talent was missed on from time to time would be made up for by the more consistent contributions from picks.

My view was backwards. It focused on minimizing risk, instead of maximizing reward. As I have watched prospects develop more closely, and looked at the numbers a little more, it is blatant that high school talent has to be considered to maximize reward.

So, here I am, for the first time trying to incorporate prep players into my list of prospects. As I looked at some of the high-schoolers who became stars, I wondered what separated them from others. Are high schoolers as unpredictable as they seem to be on the surface?

Part of me says yes. Stephen Strasburg wasn't even drafted out of high school, but was considered one of the better prospects of the past couple decades a mere three years later. This year, southpaw Chris Sale is a certain first-round pick, but like Strasburg, he was not drafted at all coming out of high school. It seems possible that the guys who become stars could be like Strasburg and Sale. Perhaps it took an unexpected explosion a few years into their pro careers to escalate them to stardom.

However, a bigger part of me says that some guys can be spotted from an early age. Alex Rodriguez was a finalist for the Golden Spikes Award as a high-schooler, which is unheard of. Joe Mauer always had his sweet stroke. Even among the best, most projectable talents, it seems like some of the great ones have still distanced themselves from the rest, even at 17 and 18 years old.

There is also the minor league environment to think about. An interview in Sports Illustrated this year, of the Yankees "Core Four," underscored what I already thought. It is hard to be young in a farm system. It is awkward being at least three years younger than everyone else, especially when everyone else can (and often does) hit up a bar afterwards. On top of that, older players tend to be more physically mature, definitely have more experience, and cannot afford to take it easy on a younger player. Everyone is in the same fight to reach the majors.

The minor league system, in many ways, is built for younger players to be ostracized. How an organization handles younger talent can help or hinder the situation, but ultimately, I think the player dictates how likely they are to succeed. I think their ability, mindset, and background all predispose them to success or failure in a minor league environment.

All in all, the anecdotal evidence I have looked at leads me to these working theories on high school picks:

• Only pick potential stars: The basements are inherently lower for high school picks when comparing them to college ones. So, a high schooler must clearly have a higher ceiling than a college prospect to warrant a selection over them. That means any high schooler worth drafting early has to have the potential to be an impact player.
• It's not about being projectable; it's about being precocious: 18-year-olds are almost universally projectable, no matter who they are. We all develop after 18, somehow or another. So, the key is not finding a high schooler with upside, because that is a given. The key seems to be finding a guy who is ahead of the curve. Joe Mauer already looked a bunch like Joe Mauer at a young age. The same went for Alex Rodriguez, and Jason Heyward as well. They were mature beyond their years, which I think better equipped them to face the older competition they faced in the minors, and also indicated star potential down the road.
• Bloodlines are relevant: In a line-up of high school phenoms, I do not think the one with a former big-leaguer as a dad has superior genes. However, they likely have a better idea of the environment they are walking into. They have a knowledge and support system that others cannot possibly have, which I think better equips them to handle the innate awkwardness that can pop up their first couple seasons in the minors. It's one thing to have upside, and another thing to develop it. I think MLB bloodlines predisposes a prospect to developing in a way others are not.
• Commitment is important: Investing millions of dollars in an 18-year-old is risky enough. Wondering if they will commit to baseball makes it even riskier. I like seeing prospects who have played multiple sports, and garnered interested in multiple sports. Those types tend to fall in the "precocious" category. However, some of them are almost too good at multiple things. They have chances to go to college and be a quarterback and outfielder at a big program, and even some of them really want to get a big-time education. I do not want to be the team to force a kid to ditch those interests, because I think those are great. Plus, purely from a team's perspective, investing in a high school prospect is risky enough, without the realistic threat that they may walk to pursue other interests. It ups the reward needed to outweigh the risk, and I already set the minimum reward at a high level before I consider any prep player.

It is probably an understatement to say that I am looking at high schoolers blindly, but it still largely feels that way to me. My methods of evaluating college talent have changed as I have delved into looking at more and more of them. I am certain the same will happen as I look at more prep stars. I will be plenty happy if my first prep guy is anything like Tim Lincecum though, the first college guy I thought was something special.

Galarraga's Gain

So there was almost a perfect game last night. Armando Galarraga retired the first 26 Indians in order, but with one out to go, allowed an infield hit to Jason Donald.

Sucks, doesn't it?

Oh, and by "almost a perfect game" I mean there was, because by "infield hit" I mean Jason Donald was called safe when he was actually out. It wasn't even terribly close either.

Really sucks, doesn't it?

Here is the video, though if you read this blog, you've probably already seen it a ton of times.

It is painful to watch. Sometimes a call can go either way. Sometimes a call is really close, and after several slow-motion replays, it looks convincing that the call was missed. Very rarely is a call completely missed. This was one of that was completely missed though, and it happened at about the worst time imaginable.

Or did it?

Armando Galarraga would have pitched the 21st perfect game in history last night with the correct call. Of the first 20, I can name 7 of the pitchers with confidence: Don Larsen, Kenny Rogers, David Wells, David Cone, Randy Johnson, Dallas Braden, and Roy Halladay. In other words, the ones I've been alive for, plus the one thrown in the World Series.

Armando Galarraga is 28 years old, with a 21-18 record, and 4.50 ERA for his career (including last night's quasi-perfect game). Similar pitchers at his age include Bronson Arroyo, Geremi Gonzalez, Kevin Foster, and Ariel Prieto. Galarraga isn't profiling as a Hall of Famer.

However, Galarraga could be remembered forever now. He will always be the guy that should have had a perfect game. There are pitchers that have thrown perfect games, but those games haven't proven to be ubiquitous, timeless memories. Not in Willie Mays "the catch" style at least. That doesn't make those games any less special than other perfect games, but let's face it, Don Larsen threw his in the World Series, and that makes it more timeless. The story behind the accomplishment matters.

Once Jim Joyce put his arms out for the "safe" call, Armando Galarraga had himself a story. This could be the play that expands the use of instant replay in baseball. It defined Jim Joyce's career. It's the lead story on ESPNews today, even with Ken Griffey Jr. retiring, and Game One of the NBA Finals (between the Lakers and Celtics no less) tonight. It is a big deal in a way that even a perfect game wouldn't be.

Armando Galarraga wouldn't ever be forgotten in Tigers history if he had been given the perfect game he deserved. However, a perfect game is not enough for a timeless spot in baseball's history. Timeless moments are a fickle mixture of talent and opportunity, and even as special as Galarraga's perfect game would have been, I don't think it gets him a timeless spot. It hasn't been a golden ticket for others.

However, I don't think the blown call will ever be forgotten.

So, what would you rather have if you were Armando Galarraga? Become the 21st member of the perfect game club, including the 3rd this year, and the first in the Tigers 110-year history? Or would you rather lose it on the final out due to a blown call, giving you your own little shred of baseball immortality? Remember, included in immortality is an anti-asterisk of sorts - everyone acknowledges you threw a bona fide perfect game, even though the record shows that you did not.

There isn't a right answer, but I think it is a fascinating situation. I am sure if I were Galarraga that I would be very disappointed; but, as time wore on, I could see myself preferring what actually happened. Immortality has its own special kind of luster, and oddly enough, it took imperfection to enter the picture in this case.

The Kid Retires

Ken Griffey Jr. retired today, effective immediately.

Here are his words on why he retired.

I don't have anything insightful to add, and I won't pretend to have anything, either. I could talk about the roster. I could talk about what Griffey's role could be with organization moving forward. I could speculate on what was the tipping point.

But who cares about any of that right now? Maybe you do, and that's totally fine if you do. All I know is that I don't, and I tend to obsess over the M's roster. I just have a collection of thoughts stemming from Griffey's decision, and there isn't room for much else as of this moment.

A 40-something, powerless, bad-hitting, slow-footed designated hitter just retired. A roster spot that was being used on a player well below replacement level has been liberated.

The active home run leader just retired. That doesn't happen every day.

One of the brightest Seattle sports stars of all-time just retired. That doesn't happen every day either.

The man as responsible as anyone for keeping the Mariners in Seattle just retired. That won't happen ever again.

This is a big deal. As a fan, it feels good. As a fan, it hurts too. I was sure that this decision should have been made a few weeks ago, but I am shocked it actually happened. There are definitely several feelings clashing for me.

I'm sure this is a good day though. It's easy to love Ken Griffey Jr. again. I couldn't say that as he rode the pine, and especially when he rolled slow grounders towards second near the bitter end.

Not that my feelings matter at all in this situation. I don't think they should, but they are still real, and I doubt mine are all that different from anyone who grew up watching those mid '90s M's. A part of me felt dirty not wanting to see Ken Griffey Jr. step to the plate this season, knowing what he used to be, which on some level was still what he is. Griffey deserves to be loved and appreciated as the living legend that he is, and it is way easier for me to do that now than it was five hours ago.