New Year’s Holiday Sale: ends december 31st
When Michael Lombardi first walked through our doors, he was just 11 or 12 years old. Small frame, big curiosity. Most kids that age are still learning how to navigate a weight room. But Michael? He wanted to understand it. Why this exercise? What was the point of that drill? How did it connect to pitching velocity, to durability, to his long-term development? He wasn’t just training—he was learning.
That mindset defined his entire path.
In the early years, the bulk of our work was foundational. General preparation. Strength. Coordination. Consistency. There weren’t any massive jumps, but that was never the goal at that stage. We built the base. And Michael never resisted it. Because he understood what we were doing—and more importantly, why we were doing it—he was always bought in.
Then COVID hit. And with it, something clicked.
In the spring and summer of that year, Michael exploded. His velocity jumped from 86 to 91 miles per hour. It wasn’t just physical—it was internal. He’d been stockpiling intent and understanding for years. That stretch simply let it all surface. From the outside, it looked like a breakout. From inside VeloU, it looked exactly like what we had prepared for.
What struck me even more during that period was how good he became at helping others. Most young athletes are so locked in on their own progress they don’t have room to process someone else’s journey. But Michael coached. He watched. He listened. He offered corrections. He helped other athletes get better. That’s when I started thinking: he might be an even better coach than athlete. And he’s a hell of an athlete.
By the time his junior and senior years of high school rolled around, everything about his development was internally driven. No one had to nudge him. He took control of his recruiting process with a level of persistence you rarely see—calling coaches, sending video, following up, getting on the phone again and again until he found the perfect fit in Tulane. At the same time, he began making serious lifestyle changes. I vividly remember how strict he became about nutrition, identifying it as the missing piece to his next velocity jump. That level of honesty and initiative is rare, especially in high school athletes.
College only magnified his progression. Tulane gave him a chance to play both ways, and he proved everyone wrong who thought he couldn’t. On the mound, he leveled up. Offensively, he became a real threat. But what impressed me most wasn’t the stat line—it was the way he processed pressure. He never flinched. He always believed in himself. And once he hit a new ceiling, he immediately started asking, What’s next?
That next step became mental performance. He and I had countless conversations about how to handle distractions on the mound, how to stay locked in, how to use the breath, how to detach from mechanics and let instinct take over. He didn’t just listen—he implemented. By his junior year in college, those changes were showing up in his poise, his presence, his ability to respond instead of react. It was one of the most rewarding parts of the journey to witness.
And now, as we stand just days away from the MLB Draft—with Michael projected to go within the first three rounds—it’s surreal, but not surprising. This isn’t just a player with talent. It’s an athlete who’s owned every stage of his development, who’s coached as much as he’s competed, and who’s constantly seeking the next way to evolve.
This draft might feel like the finish line to some. But for Michael Lombardi, this is just another checkpoint. His career is only getting started—and I couldn’t be more excited to watch what’s next.
