Former Astros pitcher Tyler Ivey makes his comeback: “All roads led back to baseball”

HOUSTON – Tyler Ivey is at peace but sometimes thinks about his past as a passionless pitcher who still reached the highest. Adrenaline helped Ivey make his major league debut in his hometown, the type of storybook that only this sport seems to jot down.

The day it happened, Ivey weighed 180 kilos and couldn't feel his fingers. Burnout and a barking elbow plagued him before and in the course of the game at Globe Life Field on May 21, 2021. Ivey couldn't turn the baseball over, but still managed to survive into the fifth inning. After manager Dusty Baker pulled him, Ivey left the mound with a giant grin.


Tyler Ivey smiles within the dugout after leaving within the fifth inning of a game against the Rangers on May 21, 2021. (Kevin Jairaj/Imagn Images)

For many it’s the last image of a missing man. Houston demoted Ivey to Triple A after the sport but didn’t report throughout the required three days. He doubted whether he desired to proceed playing. Doctors diagnosed Ivey with thoracic outlet syndrome, finally solving his physical problems. The mental hurdles remained.

“One thing you can’t fake is passion,” Ivey said last month. “And I just don’t think at that point I had the drive and the passion to give it my all or do my best to be at the top of the game and compete at that level. Even if I wanted it, it just wasn’t there at the time.”

Twelve months after his major league debut, Ivey left the game. He became a salesman, initially within the life insurance sector and, for a short while, within the solar panel sector. He married a longtime friend named Audrey, welcomed a son named James, and established his family home in a small Texas town called Pottsboro.

“I just wanted to live a simple life, spend time with my friends and family and see how God’s plan worked out for me,” Ivey said.

Ivey assumed baseball wouldn't be included. After retiring, he vowed to not follow the game anymore, aside from the Astros' annual playoff run. Ivey, once considered one in all Houston's top pitching prospects, seemed content to never step on a mound again.

Now it’s his ultimate goal. Two years after his death, Ivey attempted a baseball comeback. A series of probability encounters have allowed him to have a look at the game from a unique perspective. An impromptu start for a school summer league team helped 28-year-old Ivey rekindle his passion.

“There was some synchronicity,” Ivey said. “And everything I did, wherever we went, all roads led back to baseball.”


Ivey decided to quit in the primary week of May 2022. His parents, Jon and Michelle, visited him in Sugar Land throughout the week after Ivey told them it was “maybe the last time” they might watch him pitch.

That Sunday, on Mother's Day, Ivey threw 59 pitches over 2 1/3 innings in his final skilled appearance. After the sport, he walked into Triple-A manager Mickey Storey's office and had what Ivey called a “great conversation.” According to Ivey, he and the organization “left on really good terms.”

“You understand. There was no animosity on either side,” said Ivey, Houston's third-round draft pick in 2017. “I still have a ton of love and respect for her. They gave me a chance.”

There isn’t any single reason for Ivey's decision. He suffered from elbow soreness for a lot of the 2020 and 2021 seasons, but hid it from the team for fear of losing his place in his hierarchy. Days after his major league debut, Ivey was further shaken by a family tragedy. The stress of playing during a pandemic took its toll, as did the strain of his decision to not get vaccinated against COVID-19.

Sleeping and eating disorders made Ivey a shell of the person he was at pro ball. He now weighs 205 kilos – 25 kilos heavier than when he debuted in Arlington.

After that start against the Rangers, Ivey made eight appearances in 18 2/3 innings, including five in Triple A to begin the 2022 season. To take heed to him describe it, there isn’t a single turning point that triggers his decision, and nor does any particular aspect of his predicament outweigh the others. The accumulation of all of it became an excessive amount of for Ivey to bear – and most of those around him knew it.

Three days after Ivey retired, an unexpected phone call interrupted a day on the gym. Ivey dropped all the pieces to reply when he saw Baker's name on the caller ID.

“We know you need a break. We got it,” Ivey recalled Baker telling him. “But sometimes the body needs a little rest and sometimes it miraculously heals itself.” And if that happens, you never know, you would possibly get a call in just a few years. At least give it some thought.”

“Absolutely,” Ivey replied. “Anything for you.”


Last summer, Ivey volunteered to assist one in all his neighbors coach a highschool summer ball team, although he was initially inclined to say no.

“It allowed me to see baseball in a different light and a different perspective,” he said, “which made me fall in love with it again.”

This love proved strong enough for Ivey to turn into much more involved as a coach. The Sherman Shadowcats are a Texas-based collegiate summer league team throughout the Mid America League. When they needed a pitching coach, they offered Ivey the job. The life insurance salesman accepted the offer to work as a coach in his free time.

But when attrition occurred in late July, the team lacked enough pitchers to get through the upcoming game. The head coach asked Ivey if he would start.

“I practically rolled out of bed. I had played tag a few times and was just messing around. I hadn't trained. “Didn’t throw anything intentionally, nothing,” Ivey said. “I just said, 'Fuck it, I'll hop on the hill and we'll see how it goes.'”

Ivey struck out all three batters he faced. He threw without pain and will feel his fingers for the primary time, fulfilling Baker's prophecy. Radar guns had Ivey's fastball within the low 90s, in comparison with the 88-90 mph he averaged at the top of his pro profession.

“It felt good to go back out there and compete and know, 'Hey, I can still throw strikes.' “My stuff is still good.”

Ivey soon wondered how well. The reintroduction of competition, brief as it was, helped crystallize a path that felt more realistic.

“I started throwing and thinking about it. And I was like, 'Okay, I'll do it,'” Ivey said.

“We prayed rather a lot about it. My wife prayed for me and asked God to in some way help me find my way. What is my goal? Everything became about baseball again.”


Ivey knows he can pitch. This feeling for the sport has not left him. Attempting to make it without speed or feel for one in all his secondary pitches, his first pro profession resulted in failure despite rising up the Astros' organizational hierarchy.

“If I come back and my stuff is better and I’m the same pitcher — and I believe I can still pitch,” Ivey said. “And now I’m feeling better and healthy, who knows what could happen?”

Ivey hasn't been on the radar since his backup start in summer league. He studies each biomechanics and the art of pitching moderately than relying solely on his natural arm talent. Ivey's initial insights leave him amazed at what he has completed – and indignant that he didn't discover it sooner.

“My throwing mechanics in general were just so bad. “It’s a miracle my arm didn’t pop,” Ivey said.

“I just had no idea. I just relied on my arm and my natural talent to get it done. It can only take so long before everything blows up in your face.”

During his first skilled outing, Ivey placed on an unconventional performance, complete with a high leg kick and a violent spin. He modified it to be “much more efficient and smoother” after making “significant changes” to his body and posture.

“After throwing bullpens and throwing at 100 percent intensity, my elbow doesn’t even get sore, let alone hurt, which is pretty remarkable,” Ivey said.

Ivey hasn't modified his five-pitch arsenal, but believes all of his offerings have benefited from reworking his body. His curveball is sharper and has more downward motion. His move added some depth. His fastball stays bouncy with some backspin, characteristics that Houston's pitching infrastructure covets.

The Astros, the organization that after thought enough of Ivey to make him a significant league player at age 25, still retain his contractual rights. Whether they invite Ivey to minor league spring training in March or release him stays an open query. But even when he was given one other probability, an excessive amount of time may need passed. Ivey isn't sure concerning the end result, but said he'll still be an Astros fan.

Ivey has some regrets about how he handled relegation after his major league debut, but is otherwise comfortable with the primary chapter of his profession.

Ivey's most important focus is how the subsequent thing unfolds.

“We're really happy to live the beautiful, simple little life we've created,” Ivey said. “But we both feel like God has put it in our hearts that I'm on a mission and that I'm going to do it, whatever that looks like. And if it doesn't work out, that's completely fine with me. I'll just go home and be happy with my family again.

“But I think there is unfinished business out there. I’d like to see what that looks like.”



image credit : www.nytimes.com