To true fans of the game, evangelizing about baseball is always a good thing. That being said, we’ve all experienced head-scratching sermons.

Last month, I watched the West Virginia University versus University of North Carolina NCAA super-regional ballgame. It was a crazy-good game. UNC’s Vance Honeycutt ended it with two outs in the bottom of the 9th with a dramatic walk-off homerun.

What struck me above everything else wasn’t the drama, notwithstanding several oh-my moments. I got hung up on WVU senior southpaw Derek Clark throwing 144 pitches over 8.1 innings.

One hundred forty-four pitches.

Was Clark “prepared” differently leading up to this game than today’s typical starting pitchers in MLB? Did his manager put the game’s importance over protecting his ace? Was the pitching coach’s clicker on the fritz? Or was Clark simply an old-school bulldog in the fine tradition of starting pitchers in the modern era up to, say, 1986, who stared down their approaching managers before they could ask for the ball?

One of the most contentious topics in MLB today is the strict use of pitch counts, which is the practice of pulling a pitcher from a game: a) to prevent potential [some would even say inevitable] arm damage, and its corollary b) to protect a team’s multi-million dollar investment in said arm.

I confess to being an old fan typing. But I can’t help but grimace when I see managers, on noting that a starting pitcher is approaching triple-digit (or less) pitch counts, automatically ring the bullpen to get relievers up. It doesn’t matter what the score is, how the pitcher is feeling, or whether the other team has touched him up or been shut down.

This overly strict adherence to pitch counts, as well as certain decisions tied to the analytics focus on big innings, have pushed us away from some important dugout eye tests and chess matches on the field that, in the past, were tapped as solid baseball tactics that won a whole bunch of games.

Analytics is the topic for another blog sometime down the line, but let’s dig into pitch counts.

Logic

I’m not a trainer, pitching coach, medical doctor or anything like that. I’m a passionate student of the game, and I don’t accept the over-the-top embracing of pitch counts.

Let’s start with a few premises.

Is a starting pitcher much more likely to get injured from carrying a 100+ pitch workload start after start? I concede that the more pitches thrown, the higher the risk of injury. I also agree that continuing to pitch in a game when an arm is approaching worn-out status is asking for trouble and is a precursor to future arm troubles.

But still. I have to wonder why locked-in pitch counts are now such an inflexible part of our game. History and logic tell me it doesn’t have to be that way. And it didn’t used to be.

Ain’t Coming Out

There are still flashes of old-school bulldogs.

This year’s wunderkind, Paul Skenes, threw a 124-pitch complete game for LSU on June 2 last year. Quinn Mathews, then a senior at Stanford, threw a 156-pitch complete game against Texas nine days later.

My wife’s cousin, Kevin Campbell, once threw 174 pitches against TCU in a 10-inning game he started for the University of Arkansas. (Sidebar: Campbell, in UA’s sports hall of honor, got the win in that game and later pitched parts of five seasons in MLB.)

Leaning nostalgic as I tend to do, there are those games of lore.

• Nolan Ryan pitching 13 innings against the Red Sox on June 14, 1974, throwing an ungodly 235 pitches, striking out 19, walking 10 and getting a no-decision.
• Greg Maddux, later arguably the king of mound efficiency, throwing 167 pitches in an 11-inning loss to the Cardinals as a 22-year-old Cub in 1988.
• In what some (including Hank Aaron) called the greatest pitched game in MLB history, Juan Marichal and Warren Spahn toed the rubber on July 2, 1963, at Candlestick Park. They each went the distance — 16 scoreless innings. Spahn threw 201 pitches, Marichal 227. Historical note: Marichal’s SF Giants were victorious over Spahn’s Milwaukee Braves, 1-0, thanks to the late, great Willie Mays’ walk-off home run in the bottom of the 16th inning. It is still the last MLB game where both starters pitched into the 16th inning.

Only two major leaguers — Ron Villone and Livan Hernandez — have thrown at least 150 pitches in a game since 2000. The last major leaguer to eclipse 156 pitches was knuckleballer Tim Wakefield, who threw 169 pitches in 1997. No major league pitcher has thrown more than 135 pitches in a game since Tim Lincecum threw 148 in his 2013 no-hitter.

Let’s talk about the number of pitches’ twin sister — complete games.

1986 was the last MLB season that ended with a pitcher having at least 20 complete games — Fernando Valenzuela with 20.

Let’s skip back a decade at a time from that point. In 1976, eight pitchers threw 20 or more complete games, led by Randy Jones’ 25. In 1966, three pitchers threw 20 or more complete games, led by Sandy Koufax’s 27. In 1956, five pitchers threw 20 or more complete games, led by Robin Robert’s 22.

Last year (2023), there were a total of 35 complete games thrown in MLB — see image at right. Check out the impressive tie for third.

Context

What’s happened to the studs? I’d wager that, if given the choice, most starting pitchers today wouldn’t give a damn about the third time through a lineup or a pitch count. Using pitch counts seemingly across the board in MLB is, I believe, too extreme a line. Again, eye test. Who set the bar at getting to, say, the fifth or sixth inning on 90 pitches, and then getting a pat on the rump and being told to take a seat so three or four different relievers (at least half without lockdown stuff) can handle the 6th, 7th, 8th and 9th?

Harkening back to my teenage days when I loved piddling with weird and wonderful stats off the back of baseball cards and newspaper box scores, I randomly picked two #1s from each league — Gerritt Cole (Yankees) and Shane Bieber (Guardians) from the AL and Max Fried (Braves) and Aaron Nola (Phillies) from the NL. I took their last best consecutive four years as their team’s stud starters. In order of “stud-ness,” Cole averaged 6.48 innings per start over those four years, Nola averaged 6.08 innings per start, Fried 5.96 innings per start, and Bieber 5.57 innings per start.

Then, I looked at four studs from the 1960s in their age 25-28 years. Juan Marichal (Giants) averaged 7.95 innings per start; Fergie Jenkins (Cubs) 7.75 innings per start; Sandy Koufax (Dodgers) 7.05 innings per start, and Bob Gibson (Cardinals) 6.79 innings per start. Those numbers are slightly skewed lower because each of them also occasionally came out of the bullpen as relievers during their respective four-year periods.

What were the studs of yesteryear doing differently to earn the right to stay in games longer?

Self-fulfilling prophecies

Have pitch counts become self-fulfilling prophecies? What’s special about 80 pitches? 100 pitches? If a manager comes out to the mound at or near that magical number of pitches thrown in nearly every “good start,” isn’t it possible that the pitcher’s body will adjust to throwing that number of pitches? If so, doesn’t it make sense that number will be the artificial max for him pretty much forevermore?

Starter studs in earlier eras — still taking the mound with high velocity, good command, and likely throwing even more curveballs and sliders than today’s rocket arms — didn’t appear to get hurt nearly as much as today’s starters. They clearly threw more, so is it logical to conclude that the cause of most pitching injuries back in the day was not (primarily) overuse?

Moreover, today’s athletes inarguably take better care of themselves than yesteryear’s players. First, it’s a year-round job for today’s ballplayers, which wasn’t the case back in the day. Players have gotten bigger, stronger and faster. They have improved year-round training techniques, better nutrition, and, I’m guessing, better genetic makeup. I’m thinking, too, that there are far fewer packs of cigs waiting in today’s locker rooms after games.

Pitchers used to pitch. They’d take the mound and pitch counts be damned, adhering to a game plan of finishing what they started. Their stamina was impressive.

Can we get back there?

Could a combo-strategic process of strict adherence to solid mechanics and methodically building starters’ pitch counts in the minors eventually achieve an extra inning or three per game at the big-league level? Doesn’t it make sense that increased stamina plus better mechanics equals better command, resulting in hitting more spots and quicker innings, and at least opening the door to come back out for the next inning?

This is similar to setting targets in the gym. Stretching to reach goals by lifting ever-heavier weights with good form over many months or even years will result in getting stronger and achieving more endurance. Ditto on the track, with aspirations tied to running ever-longer distances with better times, again with good mechanics, so that the athlete will excel at distance running.

Mechanics, Strength Training, and Recovery Time

A 100% focus on mechanics, throwing more, getting proper rest, and stretching out pitch counts. Why wouldn’t that work?

I get that velo is king. It has always been, though. Why not take those mega-investments in pitchers and sprinkle in a heavy dose of old-school techniques in the minors?

For example, why don’t today’s pitchers throw on the side more regularly in warm-ups, with longer bullpen sessions? I’m talking on point with their earlier starter brethren. I recall reading that Ryan, Maddux, Tom House, Felix Hernandez, and Leo Mazzone (all big long-toss proponents) opined that young pitchers do not throw enough. To get young starting pitchers’ arms to optimum strength and durability, they have to throw.

No matter what, injuries are going to happen. Dead arms are a part of the game. Sometimes, pitchers have to be shut down. That being said, the former tried-and-true methods of stretching out innings and the number of pitches proved one important thing — if combined with a focus on consistent mechanics and proper rest, the arm does recover.

If pitch counts are the Holy Grail for protecting arms, why is there a continuing parade of injured pitchers at every level of the game? Why is baseball still faced with an arm injury epidemic? Can any of the game’s gurus say with any degree of certainty that the idea behind pitch counts is fact, not theory? I don’t see how.

Dr. Jim Andrews, renowned orthopedic surgeon and founder of the American Sports Medicine Institute, has opined that “the number one risk factor in injuries is still poor mechanics.” To be fair, Dr. Andrews is also a strong proponent of pitch counts to avoid overuse.

Isn’t it possible that, by limiting the number of pitches a pitcher in the minors can throw, teams may be preventing pitchers from developing the endurance and resilience needed to handle the demands of pitching at a higher level? As a result, pitchers may be more susceptible to injuries when they do throw because their bodies aren’t prepared for the stress.

Everyone is doing it

Baseball, like most sports, has a herd mentality. If someone does something and achieves some degree of success (especially long term), it’s copied, both in college and professional leagues.

In the pros, owners spend huge ducats on scouting and signing and developing prospects. They should expect results. Because of those expectations and investments, coaching personnel throughout the system have to be averse to asset risk. Who wants to lose their job over injuring a prospect with a guaranteed contract?

Ditto in the college ranks. Is it a stretch to believe that, on the recruiting trail, coaches will point at rival coaches and tell prospects that they would never allow their starters to throw big-number pitch counts in a game? They’d never put their projected first-rounders in jeopardy like that guy over there at Hurt-Your-Arm University does. Of course not. “When you come here, we’re going to protect you and get you to the show.”

Rounding third

I believe Bill James said, “My belief is the things that we don’t know outnumber the things that we do know.” No argument here.

But I’ll go to that diamond in the sky believing that stressing solid mechanics and gradually building a young pitcher toward larger and larger workloads could consistently get starters to go a couple more innings without hurting either the ballclub or the pitcher. In fact, it would also benefit the team because his pen mates would not be overexposed.

I also believe that, though unspoken, there are more batters than we care to admit who think, as a pitcher is leaving the mound in the 5th inning having thrown his 87 pitches, “Thank the Good Lord that they got him out of there.”