The Cost of Chasing 100mph: Jared Jones and the Modern Pitcher’s Dilemma

Why was rookie pitcher Jared Jones throwing 100mph to start a game in mid-September—when the Pittsburgh Pirates were already out of playoff contention?

It’s not smart.
It’s not sustainable.
And now, he’s hurt.

Jones, one of the most electric young arms in baseball, has joined the growing list of pitchers sidelined with an elbow injury—out for the remainder of spring training, with no clear timeline for return. The circumstances around his injury speak to a bigger issue infecting pitching development across Major League Baseball.

If I ran an MLB organization, I wouldn’t be developing or incentivizing starters to “max out” every pitch or treat 100mph as a job requirement. But that’s the expectation now: velocity equals value.

We’ve conditioned an entire generation of pitchers to chase pitch outputs instead of learning how to pitch, how to compete, and how to endure.

The message to young prospects is clear: throw hard, and you’ll get noticed. And they’re right—velocity is a ticket to the big leagues. But here’s the problem: it might also be the fastest way out if your body can’t tolerate the heat.

Take Jacob deGrom, for example. Celebrated for his ability to dominate with 100mph fastballs deep into games, deGrom was untouchable at his peak. But in recent years, his value has plummeted—not because his talent declined, but because his body couldn’t keep up with the physical strain. He’s become a cautionary tale, not the standard.

There are only so many Nolan Ryans.

If you can throw 100mph, great. But that doesn’t mean you need to unleash it every pitch to be effective. Longevity in this game doesn’t come from red-lining your body every five days. It comes from understanding how to pitch.

That means learning how to:

• Sequence pitches intelligently

• Create deception

• Manage innings, not just chase strikeouts

• Scale your intensity

• Compete with efficiency, not just firepower

Not too long ago, Major League Baseball produced durable, elite pitchers like Cliff Lee, Mark Buehrle, and CC Sabathia. None of them lived at triple digits. They lived on the mound. Year after year. Start after start. And their teams won because they were always available.

It's time for MLB organizations to redefine what success looks like—not by how hard a pitcher throws, but by how long he lasts.

Because the future of pitching won’t be determined by velocity.
It will be determined by availability.