Draft Analysis: Nobody Knows Anything (including the KC Royals)

Even if you think what the KC Royals have done so far in the draft is good, just remember: nobody knows anything. The draft is the ultimate dice roll.

I think what the KC Royals have done over the first 10 rounds of the draft is pretty exciting.

Nick Pratto stands a chance of being Eric Hosmer 2.0 (which is not a dig at Pratto or Hosmer, I promise). An early grab of a high-upside catcher (M.J. Melendez) is always nice, and he’s a coaches kid to boot–can’t go wrong with them.

Junior college pitcher’s (Evan Steele and Daniel Tillo) with SEC pedigrees? Sign me up, son. I’m even more enticed by Lipscomb speedster Michael Gigliotti, who possesses a rare combination of plate awareness and speed and who I actually feel half-qualified to talk about based on seeing him play in person a few times.

There’s more, but you get the general idea. On paper, the KC Royals have done well for themselves.

And now I want to take this opportunity to remind you of something, and I want you to commit it to memory: instant reactions to MLB draft picks are pointless.

(Hang on, want to go bold and all caps and stuff on the next slide so you really get the idea.)

INSTANT REACTIONS TO MLB DRAFT PICKS ARE POINTLESS

With the exception of the NHL Draft—which, aside from your Sidney Crosby’s and the like, is mostly a collection of anonymous Canadian teenagers—no draft among the Big Four has less fanfare than the MLB Draft. Most day-to-day fans know the shortlist for No. 1, and there’s the occasional comet like Bryce Harper, guaranteed to take the league by storm barring gruesome injury or gratuitous drug use. Diehards for each team will usually try to get an idea of who might be available in their range—occasionally, there’s even someone you’ve heard of.

(This year, I was pining for Vanderbilt’s Jeren Kendall, under the tried-and-true premise that being successful at the highest collegiate level is usually a barometer for success at the next level).

There are the truly, deeply mad, like our own Patrick Brennan who I’m fairly certain has a Sherlockian thread of clues posted somewhere in his home and a draft big board that goes 2,700 players deep. But John Q. Public, which can consume the NBA Draft in an evening and seem quite content to stew in their own filth for 72 hours during the NFL Draft, largely ignores MLB’s draft.

There are two reasons for this, and they’re both true to a varying degree.

Nobody knows who any of these people are

The NBA may want to preserve the integrity of the league with an age limit, but that’s a half-truth. The league has an ingrained star-maker in the NCAA Tournament, which introduces the country to many of the nation’s most tantalizing prospects. It allows fans to develop allegiances and opinions about players on the biggest stage. The buzz for the NBA Draft starts building in mid-March, when fans get treated to Lonzo Ball vs. DeAaron Fox and other high-level matchups of top prospects.

(Except for, weirdly, last season’s No. 1 overall pick and the odds-on favorite to be 1-1 this year. The NBA is a weird place sometimes.)

MLB can’t make the same claim. In giving high schoolers a chance to earn a wage at their chosen craft—THE WAY OUR FOUNDING FATHERS INTENDED—they lose a lot of the potential for people to connect early.

Of the 36 people selected in the first round and first supplemental round, 16 made their way into the NCAA Regional round.

Nine got to the best-of-three Super Regional.

Four—Louisville’s Brendan McKay (Tampa Bay), Florida’s Alex Faedo (Seattle), LSU’s Alex Lange (Chicago Cubs) and Oregon State’s Drew Rasmussen (Tampa Bay in the supplemental round)—have made it through to Omaha.

This is nobody’s fault, but it’s certainly to MLB’s detriment. Ideally, you’d like your future stars shining on their biggest stage, which happens to coincide quite nicely around your draft. But unlike basketball, which can more heavily rely on individual stars to guarantee team success, baseball needs talent around talent to make a deep postseason run. Of the 20 players from four-year schools among the first 36 picks, just as many didn’t even make the NCAA field as advanced to Omaha.