Three Ingredients to Becoming a Professional Baseball Player – Part 2: The Draft Is Just the Beginning

“Every Swing, Every Pitch, Every Step — Graded in Pro Ball”

By Owen Kelly – Former Professional Scout, Cincinnati Reds

My Memo-

The Major League Baseball Draft is one of the most emotional moments in a young player’s life. You’ve worked, sacrificed, and dreamed for this call. Maybe you’re a top-round pick with a million-dollar signing bonus. Maybe you’re a 30th-round pick offered a handshake, a uniform, and just enough money for a used car. Either way, you’re celebrating with your family and friends. You made it, right?

Not so fast. The draft isn’t the end of the journey. It’s not even the middle. It’s just the beginning.

Welcome to Professional Baseball

Once the excitement fades, reality sets in. You’ll report to rookie ball or Class A, and suddenly you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the best players from around the world. Latin America, the Caribbean, the SEC, the Pac-12, powerhouse high schools — every player on that roster was “the guy” back home. Now, you’re one of many.

Everything you do will be watched. Every swing, every throw, every pitch is recorded, graded, and filed. Scouts and coaches use the 20–80 scale to mark down your tools, your instincts, even your body language. Did you jog out a ground ball? They saw it. Did you sulk after striking out? They wrote it down. Professional baseball is a business, and you are an investment.

Bonus Babies vs. Bargain Signees

Here’s the cold truth: money talks. If you signed for a big bonus, you’ve bought yourself time. Organizations protect their investments. You can struggle and still get another chance, because the front office needs to justify the money spent.

But if you signed for $500, $1,000, maybe $5,000 at most? You’re a long shot. You might get a “cup of coffee” in pro ball — a uniform, a bus ride, a taste of the life — and then, just as quickly, a pink slip. The scouts who pushed you to sign for next to nothing are already moving on to the next kid, while you’re sitting at home wondering where it all went wrong.

As a scout, I’ve seen too many of these horror stories. Players who had the talent to develop, who could have thrived in college, who should have earned a degree — instead pushed into pro ball for a fraction of what they were worth. And when it doesn’t work out? They’re left with no fallback, no education, and no plan.

The Responsibility of Scouts

This is where I get tough on my own profession. Some scouts, eager to pad their résumé, will brag, “I signed this kid.” But at what cost? If you pressured a 17- or 18-year-old into taking $500 to chase a dream he wasn’t ready for, you didn’t help him. You hurt him.

Yes, some kids hate school. Some are desperate for the pro uniform. But a scout’s job is more than just signing names. It’s guiding young men toward the path that gives them the best chance to succeed in life. Sometimes that path is pro ball. More often, it’s college.

If you’re a scout who pushes a kid to sign just so you can claim another signature, I’ll say it plainly: find another occupation. This game doesn’t need you. Baseball needs people who care about players as people, not just numbers on a ledger.

Why College Still Matters

College baseball isn’t just about playing time. It’s about development. It’s where kids grow physically, mentally, and emotionally. In Division I, they face elite competition, refine their tools, and learn how to handle failure in front of crowds. And most importantly, they get an education.

A degree is forever. No release, no injury, no slump can take it away. I’ve told countless players: you can’t fake arm strength, bat speed, or foot speed, but you can always earn a diploma. Baseball careers end quickly — sometimes in the blink of an eye. That degree is the parachute when the ride is over.

The Harsh Reality of Pro Ball

Pro ball isn’t glamorous for most. It’s bus rides, cheap hotels, long summers in front of sparse crowds. You’re fighting for every at-bat, every inning. The food is bad, the paycheck is worse, and the pressure is constant. Some survive it. Most don’t.

If you signed for big money, you’ll get every chance to prove you belong. If you didn’t, you’ll have to outperform everyone just to stay in uniform. And even then, one bad stretch, one injury, one roster cut can end it all.

That’s why the dream must be balanced with reality. The draft isn’t the finish line. It’s the start of a brutal test.

The Scout’s Final Word

As a former scout, I’m proud of every player who made it. I’m even prouder of the ones who took the harder road — went to college, got stronger, earned their degree, and gave themselves a real chance. Some went on to pro ball and thrived. Others didn’t, but they left the game with something that would carry them for the rest of their lives.

The draft is a thrill, no question. But for every big-money pick, there are dozens of kids signed for pennies, pushed into pro ball before they’re ready, and discarded when they don’t immediately produce. That’s not development. That’s exploitation.

Baseball is about opportunity, but it’s also about responsibility. Scouts, coaches, and executives owe it to these young men to guide them wisely. And sometimes the best advice isn’t, “Sign here.” It’s, “Take the scholarship. Go to college. Grow as a player and as a man. Baseball will still be there.”

Because in the end, the goal isn’t just to sign a contract. The goal is to succeed — in the game, and in life.