Ian Snell is a Headcase (but not how you think)

All year long, Bucco fans everywhere have wondered: What went wrong with Gorzelanny and Snell? Sure, on some level it's stark silly stupidity to expect one above-average season in the big leagues to translate to an automatic above-average season the following year, especially at a position such as pitching and especially knowing that all but the very best pitchers are prone to ups and downs. But on another level, at least when it comes to Ian Snell, how do you go from top ten in the NL in strikeouts and innings pitched to this year's (at present) 1.83 WHIP fiasco?

Because there's no easy explanation for Snell's downfall (whereas Gorzelanny was absurdly overused last season, which seemed, for much of the season, to be a more than plausible explanation for his drastic downturn this season), media and fans have come to one conclusion: Ian Snell is a major headcase. And on some level, we've already, always, sort of, kind of, or totally known this about Ian Snell. I mean, he's always been prone to various sorts of emotional outbursts (search the posts tagged at Ian Snell at MLB Fanhouse to take a gander of sorts). And as such, well, he's just a headcase who won't, can't, or refuses to get his great stuff together and pitch like a pitcher with his stuff should.

Except. Except. Except. Did anybody read this Snell quote, found in the PG Pirates Notebook? "It was just the expectations that were thrown on me, being the ace, being the one who faces the other team's ace. People expected a lot of me, and I don't think that's easy on a young pitcher." Such a quote, on the surface, should lead one to the conclusion that everyone labeling Snell a headcase was one hundred percent correct. And I'd agree. Except I disagree that the sole reason he is a headcase is that's just because it is who he is (don't get me wrong, natural temperament and demeanor play a part, too--but only a part).

I posit that Snell's "mental issues" this season stemmed from high expectations. Frankly speaking, I don't think Snell knew how to handle high expectations. I don't think he was prepared for high expectations. I don't think he'd ever been taught how to wrap his mind around high expectations, coming both from himself, but more importantly, from teammates, the fans, and oh yeah, the organization that signed him to a multi-year contract.

Because here's the thing about Snell that's always made him one of my favorites (and I'm admittedly a fan who's got a thing for the headcases who show flashes of potential). No one really ever expected him to do what he's doing at the big league level. At the start of each one of his minor league seasons, there were always pitchers who had been drafted higher and of whom more was expected. If Snell was going to make it, it was going to be through sheer will and productive performance. And, so, every year, he won games, he struck out batters, and generally, he excelled where he was. Because he had to achieve excellence just to get his shot.

And let's be honest. After Zach Duke's phenomenal rookie season, Snell was an afterthought. Maybe Snell would make a decent reliever. And as he struggled early in his first full season in the big leagues, everyone wondered: Really--this kid's supposed to start in the big leagues? And then, the second half of 2006, Snell started to pitch. He won 14 games that year, and comments began to come. Scouts began to take notice of this kid whose stuff they loved. And then came 2007--a good season to all accounts, and utterly excellent for four months (including September 2007) of that six-month season.

So you've got a 26-year-old pitcher, with stuff that makes scouts drool, who pitched over two hundred innings at age 25, who pitched quality start after quality start last season, who's never really had any serious health issues, and you've got people saying: This is the year this kid really cements himself. This year will be his true "breakout." This is the year he strikes out 200 batters. This is the year you want him on your fantasy team. And, beyond the fantasy 2008 preseason projections, you have a new organization that saw what the scouts saw and looked at the minor league and major league statistics and said: Better to risk locking the kid up now than risk what he could get in arbitration or later with a couple more seasons like 2007. Meanwhile, you've got teammates who believe they can know what to expect when this pitcher starts a game for them this season: a legitimate chance to win, every time. Because that's how good he's shown himself to be in the past.

And, now, put yourself in the place of that 26-year-old pitcher. But don't just put yourself in the place of the 26-year-old who's just set himself up for life (provided he manages the money well) with the new multi-million dollar contract. Put yourself in the place of the 18-year-old who was drafted later than kids who never made it out of A-ball. Put yourself in the place of the kid pitching in the same rotation as first-round draft picks throughout his minor league career. Put yourself in place of the kid who, at every level, has to be better, has to strike out more batters, has to win more games, in order to arrive at getting a mere shot--just a chance--to prove that high expectations should be set for him, too. Really, put yourself in the shoes of an athlete whose whole professional career was really mired in low expectations, and then juxtapose that career norm of always exceeding low expectations with the pressure to consistently meet high expectations coming into the 2008 season.

Of course, naysayers would beg to differ, saying that as Snell proved himself, high expectations became more normal. To which I'd say, well, of course, that happened. You don't lose a game in your first two professional seasons; the organization notices a little bit. You pitch well enough to be the organization's minor league pitcher of the year; someone important sure as heck noticed what you did. You pitch well in AA; you get a call-up to the Show. You dominate AAA to the tune of a 1.01 WHIP and lead the league in strikeouts; it's time to find out what you can do in the Show.

Yet, for Snell, that's where I'd insist he never had to cope with the highest of expectations, or with the best of expectations. No one expected him to dominate the National League upon his arrival. No one was sure where he should be--rotation, reliever, closer, etc. He came with the statistics that appeared to indicate that perhaps he could be a top-of-the-rotation starter, but none of the pedigree. And as such, I will posit that until preseason 2008, Ian Snell never really had to cope with high expectations.

And while I think there are a myriad of reasons Snell's 2008 has been mostly lost (save for that recent, oh-so-tantalizing performance against the Cardinals), I will insist that Snell's major issue in 2008 is that he couldn't cope with the high preseason expectations set for him by the organization, by his teammates, by outside parties, and yes, internally, too. So, indeed, Ian Snell is a head case. He's a head case who never had to learn--and thus was never taught--how to react and how to meet high expectations.

As such, at various times this season we've gotten all sorts of things that drive anyone watching--anyone who's seen this pitcher be good before--berserk. We've got a pitcher who won't use his fastball. We've got a pitcher too terrified of being hit hard to throw strikes. We've got a pitcher who won't come near the inside part of the plate. We've got a pitcher making all kinds of mechanical adjustments when the real problem is, in all actuality, probably subconscious. Because I really doubt Snell's thinking much of anything when he's not throwing strikes. But I don't doubt, not for a moment, that Snell's terrified and petrified by the high expectations, and that the terror and horror and all else that comes from the fear of not coming anywhere near the vicinity of meeting such expectations, results in performances like these: Oh, I have to make the perfect pitch. Oh, since I can't make the perfect pitch, better not throw that one. Oh, I'm not good enough, not with the way I am throwing or feeling right now, to pitch to this guy, so I better just throw the ball nowhere near the plate. And I better do this not just for like, the best hitter on the team who legitimately can hurt me in this particular situation, but I have to do it all the time. Because, really, with these high expectations, I have to be perfect.

As September nears, we're so far from high expectations for Snell that we wonder if he should have been demoted to AAA, sent to the bullpen, and we wonder if he even will have a place in the rotation next season, if he's not traded this offseason. To put it mildly, the high expectations I once had for a Snell game are now replaced by dread: Please, tell me he didn't implode. Tell me he didn't have a WHIP of two this game. Please, give me something, a little glimpse, that he really was good in 2007 and that he's still got whatever made him good and thus he can be that good again, at some point, this season, next season...please. Just give me a glimpse. May I once again be tantalized with hope..really, pretty, pretty, please.

And then I get a game, granted, a mere one game contest, like the last game Snell pitched against the legitimate major-league line-up of St. Louis. I watch Ian Snell, "circa 2007," as one comment on a blog noted. And sure, I think there are lots of reasons for Snell's troubles this season. I think he probably was used too much last year, though no one really complained about it at the time. I think he could have been hurt by the loss of a pitching coach who, for whatever harm he may have done to others and who was clearly not always a diplomatic communicator, sure as heck didn't appear to hurt Snell when he had a 2.93 ERA prior to last season's All-Star break. I do think Snell was physically hurt, even if in a minor way, for a period of time this season, which lowered his velocity, and that when he took the mound without his best stuff, he tinkered and tinkered and tried to compensate for not having the stuff he was used to having, he got beat, and badly beat. But mainly, watching Snell on the mound, and knowing that everyone who still bothered to watch no longer really held those sky-high expectations, I wondered if Snell's underlying issue, all season, could merely have been that he just wasn't ready to deal with high expectations, or, in a nutshell, that Snell just couldn't handle high expectations.

Lest anyone think this post is one long apology for Ian Snell, far be it from that. Because, honestly, who cares if no one ever thought you were good or expected you to be good? Now we know you're good; we've seen it. Others know you're good; they have video and study how you pitch, and they'll adjust. You know what? I really don't care about your mental issues or what you're thinking or about the fact that you can't cope with high expectations. You just need to pitch. Because that's your job. And oh yeah, because we've seen you do it, before..really, for almost a year, we've seen you do this. So, get over yourself, your head, and just deal with it. Or, if you can't stop being a headcase, can we deal you for someone a little younger, with stuff close to yours, who may not ever have stuff that's equal to yours, but who at least will not drive us crazy by being as much of a headcase as you are?

Snell can't be excused for his pitiful pitching performances this season, nor should he be. But I'd like to posit that the "headcase" issue is one that's not necessarily solved by appointments with a sports shrink (much as I've suggested, half-serious, half in jest, that the Pirates ought to invest in one for Snell's Jekyll and Hyde act) or by trading away an emotional player who's way too much of a headcase.

Rather, I'd like to suggest the solution to Snell's issue is really a solution that the whole PBC still sorely needs. The organization desperately needs an across-the-board restoration of high expectations. And with that restoration of high expectations for every member of the organization, so, too, should come the experience of learning not merely how to cope with, but how to meet, expectations that, on any level of "gut check" reality, are absurdly high (200 Ks? Really? (and yet who would think 200 K's patent absurdity for a top-of-the-rotation starter in a different organization?).

It's easy, and it's nice to say that Snell should have figured out how to meet the expectations, his lack of experience with such expectations be darned. It's nice and easy to say that all players who possess the innate talent that makes scouts drool should just automatically, instantaneously, be able to meet those high expectations. And it's nice and easy to say that any player who can't handle those expectations, the first or second time around, is just a head case who will never be all he truly could be due to his mental issues.

And believe me, there have been multiple occasions this season where I want to take the "nice and easy" route with Snell, and where, honestly, I think it's nice and easy because it's the nicest and easiest course of action available. But not just in the case of Snell, but in the case of Ryan Doumit and Nate McClouth next year, and for outfield prospects Tabata at AA and McCutchen at AAA, and all the way down to a winning GCL team, something else has to happen.

High expectations are high expectations. Such expectations should be met. But if you don't meet them for a game, or a a start, or even three, or even a slump: you can't get away from your identity. You can't start chasing balls off the plate just to prove you still have power to hit home runs. And, as in the case of Snell this year, you can't start nibbling just because you're afraid of what will happen if you throw strikes and your strikes get hit. You can't back away from who you are, whether that be a strike-throwing flamethrower or a hitter who consistently maintains an OPS in the high 800s.

In winning organizations, high expectations are the norm. Everyone expects to win. And players are expected to perform, because they are performers. Organizations and teams live out their identity, and players do the same.

And yes, trades may have to be made to make the team a winner. And yes, a hitter has to adjust when pitchers refuse to throw him the pitch in the sweet spot he loves. And yes, a pitcher has to adjust when hitters can predict what's coming.
But all from the security of knowing: this is who I am. As basic as it gets. I get on base four point five out of ten times. I throw strikes. This organization wins.

So, yeah, in conclusion, Ian Snell is, always, definitely, a head case. I hope he may someday not wear that label, but I believe Snell's always going to be emotional, and frankly, I don't really care that he's emotional or that he's a head case. Because, in the case of this emotional pitcher and particular head case, it seems to me that the real recourse is ensuring that every member of the organization understands and experiences the highest of expectations...and understands that those high expectations originate with the fact that high expectations are the only acceptable expectations to be set for successful players who comprise successful teams who comprise successful, and oh yes--winning--organizations.