Hit or Error? Baseball Digest's 1993 Rookie Edition Reexamined

Welcome to the 31st installment of Hit or Error, our ongoing excavation of Baseball Digest’s annual scouting reports, where we dive into the hopes, hypes, and heartbreaks of Mets prospects past. This week, we crack open the March 1993 issue—and if you’re expecting signs of life on the Mets’ minor league front… well, keep waiting. While the Braves and Phillies were practically publishing novellas about their farm systems, the Mets got a sad little sidebar: one infielder (Tim Bogar) and three pitchers—Eric Hillman, Mark Dewey, and David Telgheder.

With the farm system still stuck in neutral (or possibly reverse), we’ll focus on the three arms and see if any of them managed to turn promise into performance—or if this was just another case of organizational wishful thinking. So let’s raise our radar guns and ask the eternal question: did Baseball Digest’s scouts deliver a hit, or commit an error??

From Flushing to the Far East: The Reinvention of Eric Hillman

In the March 1993 Baseball Digest, the outlook for Eric Hillman’s future with the Mets was bright. The magazine praised his successful 1992 transition from the bullpen to the rotation, touting his "excellent curveball and change-up" and suggesting that if Hillman could maintain his concentration, he had a legitimate shot at locking down the fifth starter role in 1993. And the optimism wasn’t misplaced—Hillman was a towering 6'10" lefty with decent stuff, a cerebral approach, and a breakout AAA stint under his belt. He looked like a late-blooming asset who might provide much-needed depth behind a rotation that was, even then, in flux.

But reality didn’t quite cooperate. Hillman went 2–9 with a 3.97 ERA for the Mets that season, and though the ERA was respectable, the lack of run support and his inability to string together consistent outings ultimately left him on the outside looking in. He never again found sustained success in the majors. Ironically—and somewhat poetically—his best years came not in New York but across the Pacific. In Japan, Hillman reinvented himself with the Chiba Lotte Marines, winning 14 games and even earning 1996 All-Star MVP honors. Unfortunately, his tenure there was cut short by an undiagnosed rotator cuff tear, and by 2000, Hillman was officially retired. The story that emerged, in contrast to Baseball Digest’s projection, was less about a rise through the ranks in Queens and more about a personal and professional rebirth overseas—and a reminder of how fragile the line is between “could have been” and “never got the chance.”

I got to know Eric years later when he was my coach at Mets Fantasy Camp, and let me tell you, he’s not just tall—he’s towering in personality too. He’s also one of the funniest people you’ll ever meet, with a dry, deadpan delivery so sharp you’d swear he moonlighted at Catch a Rising Star between starts. If only opposing hitters had laughed as hard as we did—maybe he’d have had a longer leash in Flushing.

In our Glove Story: Fathers, Sons and the American Pastime book, which I co-wrote with AJ Carter, Eric gave us a quote that sums up not just his career but the gratitude that defines so many former players who made it, however briefly, to The Show. He said:

“I get it when you fly into a city, and you have a window seat. You're sitting there—whether it's Atlanta, Chicago, Kansas City, Detroit, no matter where—you fly over these large metropolises and you see those baseball fields. And you know there are kids on those fields, the same way I was on my little league fields... you know every one of those kids wants to play in the major leagues, whatever team they are a fan of in that region. So for me to be humbled enough to know that I had the opportunity to play at the major league level is amazing.”

It’s a beautiful perspective—from 30,000 feet, sure, but also from the heart of someone who knows just how rare the view is.

So, was Baseball Digest’s scouting report on Eric Hillman a hit or an error? It’s a little of both. They weren’t wrong—Hillman did have the repertoire, the intellect, and the opportunity. He even cracked the rotation, just like they predicted. But the consistency never came, and his best baseball was played far from Shea. Still, that doesn’t make him a bust—it makes him a reminder that sometimes the path to fulfillment in this game winds through places no scouting report can foresee. In the end, Hillman didn’t become a mainstay in Flushing, but he did become something even rarer: a player who found grace, perspective, and yes, success, on his own terms. Verdict: Push. Call it a ground-rule double to the gap in Chiba.

Dewey Decimals Out the Bullpen

Back in the spring of 1993, Baseball Digest took a swing at forecasting the future of a guy named Mark Dewey. The scouting blurb was short, sweet, and cautiously optimistic. “Mark has a chance to earn a spot in the pen in 1993,” they wrote. “He has a hard sinker and slider. If he becomes more consistent, he may spend time this season in New York.”

Now, if you’re a Mets fan, and you see “he may spend time in New York,” your first thought is either, “Cool, maybe he’ll help the bullpen,” or “Uh-oh, who got hurt?” But in this case, Dewey did indeed show up in New York in '92, made 20 appearances for the Mets, and then took his talents to Pittsburgh the next year. So let’s check the scouting report against reality and see if this was a Hit or an Error.

Mark Dewey wasn’t exactly a household name unless you lived in the Dewey household—or maybe in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he starred for Grand Valley State before being picked in the 23rd round of the 1987 draft by the Giants. That’s the baseball version of getting drafted by candlelight during the dessert course. Long odds, but he didn’t care.

Dewey defied those odds by carving out a respectable six-year Major League career as a right-handed reliever, mostly throwing sinkers that induced more ground balls than a Little League infield. He pitched in 205 big league games, with stops in San Francisco (twice), New York (briefly), and Pittsburgh (where he had his best run). His career ERA of 3.65 and an ERA+ of 110 tell you he was better than league average—solid, dependable, lunchpail relief work.

In 1993, just as Baseball Digest predicted, Dewey did crack the Pirates’ pen—and was lights out. He posted a sparkling 2.36 ERA in 21 games with a ridiculous 171 ERA+. That, folks, is not just spending time in the majors. That’s thriving.

His stuff was no joke: the sinker dove, the slider bit, and while he didn’t strike out the world, he got the job done. No All-Star nods, no bobblehead nights—but in 1996, the man pitched in 78 games, third-most in the National League. That’s a lot of warm-up tosses and a whole lot of ice packs.

Now, Dewey’s career wasn’t without controversy. In 1996, he made headlines by refusing to take part in an AIDS awareness event with his Giants teammates, citing religious beliefs. It was a divisive moment that sparked plenty of debate—and serves as a reminder that ballplayers, like the rest of us, live complex lives off the field.

So was Baseball Digest right?

They said he had a chance to make the bullpen. He did.

They said if he got more consistent, he might pitch in New York. He did (albeit the year before they predicted).

But they didn’t say how effective he’d be—or that he’d quietly log over 200 games, finish 70 of them, and post a better ERA than some guys with much bigger contracts and much flashier names.

Verdict: HIT.

Mark Dewey was no superstar. But he beat the odds, did the job, and for one season in Pittsburgh, he was a high-leverage hoss. And for that, he earns a tip of the cap—and maybe a bonus meatball at Rao’s, if he ever drops by.

From Long Shot to Long Relief: Dave Telgheder’s Quiet Climb

The March 1993 Baseball Digest scouting report on Dave Telgheder pegged him as a career starter with "exceptional control and command of pitches" and praised his competitiveness. It speculated that a move to the bullpen might increase his chances of reaching the big leagues, provided he maintained consistency. As it turns out, Baseball Digest was mostly on target.

Telgheder did, in fact, make his major league debut that year for the Mets, appearing in 24 games (7 starts) and posting a 6–2 record despite a 4.76 ERA. His strong control was evident throughout his professional career—he walked just 103 batters in 311.2 major league innings and only 308 in over 1,100 minor league innings, good for a career MLB walk rate of 3.0 per nine innings and an even more impressive 1.6 in the minors. While he did get some relief opportunities, the majority of his MLB appearances came as a starter, contradicting the report’s suggestion that he might need to shift permanently to the bullpen to stick.

Over parts of six seasons with the Mets and A’s from 1993 to 1998, Telgheder posted a 15–19 record with a 5.23 ERA. His performance was uneven—flashes of promise often offset by struggles with home runs and hits allowed (10.7 H/9, 1.4 HR/9 in the majors). While he never became a fixture in the rotation, he was a reliable organizational arm, bouncing between Triple-A and the big leagues, and earning regular looks thanks to his command and mound presence. In that sense, Baseball Digest was right to highlight his control and competitive nature—those traits carried him further than raw stuff ever did.

Ultimately, Telgheder did surface in New York in 1993 as projected, and while he didn’t become a star, he carved out a respectable career as a back-end starter and swingman. Considering he was a 31st-round draft pick, that’s a win in itself—and a decent feather in Baseball Digest’s scouting cap.

In the end, the Baseball Digest scouting report on Dave Telgheder was more hit than error. While they hedged their bets by suggesting a bullpen role might be his ticket to the majors, their primary emphasis on his control, competitiveness, and potential to stick as a starter proved prescient. Telgheder wasn't flashy, but he outperformed expectations for a 31st-round pick, logged meaningful innings over six seasons, and delivered the kind of steady, unglamorous value every organization needs. He may not have lit up the highlight reels, but Baseball Digest saw the ingredients that would make him a viable big leaguer—and in that regard, they earned themselves a solid Hit.

So what did we learn from this meager 1993 Mets scouting crop? Well, even in the midst of a barren farm system and a forgettable era for the franchise, Baseball Digest didn’t completely miss the mark. Sure, there were no future aces, no All-Stars, no miracle-worker waiting in the wings—but Hillman, Dewey, and Telgheder all touched the majors, each carving out their own niche in the game. One found reinvention overseas, one quietly became a bullpen workhorse, and one beat the odds to become a serviceable swingman. No stars, but no complete busts either. So while the Mets’ minor league cupboard may have been thin, the Digest scouts managed to salvage some dignity. Two solid Hits and one Push? In the eternal prospect prediction game, that’s practically a playoff berth.