The Need for (Less) Speed

A quick run-through of recent Major League Baseball news reveals the degree to which the sport relies on the wow factor of its lightning-strewing arms.

One MLB.com article from late June, recounting Shohei Ohtani’s third mound outing following his return from elbow surgery, came with the headline “Ohtani dials it up to 101.7 mph – the fastest pitch of his MLB career.”

A few days earlier, an ESPN article delved into a highly touted matchup between Jacob Misiorowski and Paul Skenes. The recap noted that Misiorowski, the Brewers’ flamethrowing rookie, reached at least 100 mph 19 times and logged a personal MLB high mark of 102.4. (The Pirates’ Skenes, last year’s exciting flamethrowing rookie, reached 100 just once. He also had an uncharacteristically rough outing and lost.)

Of course, baseball’s focus on speed is nothing new. Back in 1893, Amos Rusie’s sizzling heater was said to be a primary reason for moving the mound back to its current distance of 60 feet, 6 inches. Fourteen years later, after encountering Walter Johnson’s fastball for the first time, an awestruck Ty Cobb described how it “hissed with danger.”

Over subsequent decades, pitchers from Smoky Joe Wood and Lefty Grove to Bob Feller and Sandy Koufax inherited and passed the baton as baseball’s most fearsome fireballer. Nolan Ryan and Goose Gossage were the big dogs in that department when I first began watching baseball in the early 1980s, and a few years later, I remember eagerly tuning in to the 1986 All-Star Game to watch opposing starters Dwight Gooden and Roger Clemens dial up the heat. If not entirely a collection of Hall of Famers, all at least were marquee players with records of extraordinary seasons augmented by legacies of overpowering prowess.

So I get it. Blazing fastballs have always been exciting. And with radar guns available across MLB stadiums and broadcasts in a way that was nonexistent in the ‘80s, it becomes a habit to frequently check the readings with the hope of seeing a number in the high 90s or beyond.

And yet, it’s no secret that as velocities have ticked up over the past 20 years, with more training and data enabling players to tap into their inner Ryan, so has the increase in pitching-related injuries. A report released at the end of 2024 showed that more than 200 Major and Minor Leaguers had undergone UCL surgery in each year from 2021-24, up from 83 in 2010. Additionally, at one point in May of 2024, nine of MLB’s 10 hardest throwers from the previous year were on the injured list.

Yet MLB continues to celebrate the Misiorowskis, Ohtanis, Mason Millers and many others for blowing past the 100 mph barrier. This feels somewhat akin to the NFL continuing to run highlight reels of players getting their lights knocked out even as reports of debilitating brain injuries began coming to light. No, baseball’s situation isn’t as life threatening, but it’s also not so benign that we should just shrug off ravaged arms and abbreviated careers as the price for big league glory. 

This really hits home when I watch my 11-year-old son, all 4’8″ of him, pitch for his local rec and travel teams. He’s done commendably well despite being one of the smaller players, as he understands that he can neutralize the big boys with a well-placed sinker or changeup. Still, he’s acutely aware that he doesn’t throw as hard as many other kids his age. And in spite of my insistence that it really all comes down to command, I also know that at some point he’s going to be judged by how fast he slings the ball to the plate. Will he have to continually push for more velocity, potentially damaging the growing tendons in his right arm, to achieve his hope of playing high-level baseball?

Back to Ryan for a minute: The Pitching Ninja video “Did Nolan Ryan throw 108 mph?” examines a game from September 1974 in which a primitive radar gun was trained on the Angels star. The highest speed readouts per inning varied quite a bit: From a high of 87.6 in the first inning, it jumped to 98.8 in the fourth, before dipping to 91.3 in the sixth, and finally topping out at 100.8 in the ninth.

There are two ways to look at the velocity swings. One is that there were glitches to be worked out with the gun’s technology and as such the readouts were inaccurate. The other is that Ryan was pacing himself, dialing it up when it was necessary at certain points, before emptying the tank at the finish line.

Along with providing confirmation of Ryan’s gas-conserving ways from pitching coach Tom House, the video revealed stats that showcased the effectiveness of that strategy: For the entirety of the 1970s, Ryan allowed a .628 OPS the first time through a batting order, a .588 the second time through, a .619 the third time, and .585 for the fourth. 

Obviously, the game has changed significantly over the past 50 years. Ryan pitched in an era of fewer power threats, which meant he had the luxury of dialing things back a notch or two for larger portions of a typical lineup. He also plied his craft at a time when starting pitchers were expected to go the distance whenever possible; nowadays, even a starter enjoying a stellar game is likely to give way to the bullpen after six or seven frames. But even if there’s no reversing that particular trend, there remains plenty of value – possibly more than ever – from a starter preserving his bullets in order to pitch into the seventh or eighth and give an oft-used reliever a day off.

I’m heartened somewhat by looking at the MLB leaderboards for innings pitched. Sure, the category was topped at the break by Garrett Crochet, with Zack Wheeler tied for third and Skenes and Tarik Skubal tied for fifth; all studs seemingly capable of blowing a ball by a hitter at will.

But fan out more and you had Logan Webb second, Max Fried tied for third, Framber Valdez tied for fifth… by my count, 10 of the top 14 guys fall short of qualifying for the flamethrower label. Yes, these are very much men of their power-laden era, which means they’re not running the ball up there at 87, but they’re also not relying on 97 to rack up crucial outs for their teams.

This season, it’s been a pleasure to get a closer look at Fried as a Yankee. The ex-Brave truly is the complete package: He moves his pitches around, drops in that gravity-bending curveball, fields his position, holds runners close. His methodology has seemingly rubbed off on the formerly frustrating Carlos Rodón, who has leaned more on a slider and changeup to enter the second half ranked eighth in innings pitched as part of his best season in pinstripes to date.

During the recent All-Star Game, I prodded my son to pay attention when Webb came into the game. “Look at all his pitches,” I said. “He doesn’t throw all that hard but everything sweeps or dives. That’s what you want to do out there.”

Of course, Misiorowski followed shortly afterward and delivered the expected fireworks. That led to the inevitable MLB.com post-game story with the headline: “Bringing heat in Atlanta: Miz hits 100+ 9 times in ASG debut.”

There’s no question that premium velocity will continue to captivate us the way it always has. But the numbers also show different avenues to success, so maybe we can collectively find a way to rein in the unyielding need for speed so there aren’t as many crashes along the way.

Thanks to Baseball Reference and its extraordinary research database, Stathead, for help in assembling this piece.