So it’s a given that the Nats are going to draft Stephen Strasburg, the so-called greatest baseball prospect of all time. And his agent, Scott Boras, is reportedly talking about a $50 million contract (the highest ever paid to a rookie pitcher being somethingn like $10 million).


Whatever the final number, he’ll sign a record-shattering contract. But here’s my question: What are the terms of his other contract, the one he signed sealing his deal with the devil?

If you haven’t, read this Yahoo! sports article on the phenom. It is in total worth a read, but here’s the key bit:


Strasburg wasn’t always in such fast company. He’d been at San Diego State all of a week in 2006 and he was doubled over in the corner of the dugout, heaving and vomiting after a routine conditioning workout.

Tony Gwynn, the Hall of Famer and the Aztecs’ coach, shook his head. The sorry spectacle confirmed everything he feared about the freshman pitcher. Filter had convinced Gwynn to give a scholarship to Strasburg, a local kid nobody else wanted.

One thought kept coming back to Gwynn: How can somebody who throws so hard be so soft?

Sure, Strasburg could throw 91 mph, but he was a good 30 pounds overweight. He couldn’t run a few laps without getting sick. He didn’t know how to bench press. The school’s conditioning coach nicknamed him “Slothburg” and told him he ought to quit on the spot.

Questions arose off the field as well. After five days living in a dormitory, Strasburg moved back with his mother, who had recently purchased a house near the campus to help care for Strasburg’s grandmother.

…

“After two months on campus he went from 6-foot-3, 255, to 6-5, 225,” Gwynn said. “His was killing it in the weight room. His fastball went from 91 mph to 97. It happened that quick.”


So in two months time he goes from fat mama’s boy to budding superstar? You can practically smell the sulfur and brimstone. So whoever is GMing the Nats when they pull the trigger on drafting Strasburg should ask to see the precise deal he signed with Satan in order to become the pitcher he is. Did he trade his soul to become the greatest prospect of all time? The greatest college pitcher? The greatest pro pitcher? Did he stipulate a championship? Because you know if he didn’t get a championship in writing, he’ll be the greatest pro pitcher to never win a championship.


Tread carefully here, Nats.