For years, the Padres have treated certainty as something you buy.
Big contracts. Veteran arms. Short-term fixes meant to stabilize a rotation that never quite feels settled. But while the front office keeps scanning the market, something uncomfortable is happening closer to home.

Miguel Mendez is no longer behaving like a distant solution.
The warning signs arenât dramatic. Thereâs no viral highlight or public declaration. Instead, itâs the quiet moves that matterâthe kind teams make when theyâre preparing for a scenario they donât want to openly admit.
Minor League Player of the Year. A November addition to the 40-man roster. Protection from the Rule 5 Draft long before desperation sets in.

Those arenât future-facing gestures. Theyâre insurance.
Mendez has always been tempting. The fastball sits in the high 90s and flirts with triple digits when he reaches back.
The slider isnât just goodâitâs the kind of pitch that makes hitters uncomfortable before they even swing. Evaluators talk about mid-rotation upside, sometimes more, when theyâre feeling generous.
The problem, of course, is control.
An 11.2 percent walk rate isnât a small footnote; itâs the dividing line between âstarterâ and âbullpen weapon.â
Big-league lineups donât wait around for pitchers to find the zone, and October punishes anyone who canât land strike one. The Padres know this. Thatâs why the plan has always been patience.
But patience has a shelf life.

At around 6-foot-3 and 175 pounds, Mendez is still labeled âlanky,â a word that sounds harmless until you realize itâs code for âstill growing.â
If he adds strength and keeps his mechanics intact deeper into outings, another velocity bump isnât unrealistic. Suddenly, his margin for error widens. Suddenly, the starter argument gets harder to dismiss.
Thatâs where the tension lives.
The likely plan is simple on paper: open 2026 in Double-A San Antonio, prove the strike-throwing is real, force a midseason decision.

In a perfect world, that timeline holds. But the Padres havenât lived in a perfect world for a while.
Rotations wobble. Arms break. Workload limits appear out of nowhere. And when that happens, teams donât promote pitchers because theyâre readyâthey promote them because theyâre necessary.
Mendez is starting to feel necessary.

Whatâs striking is how little public noise surrounds him. No hype campaign. No ânext man upâ rhetoric. Just steady positioning behind the scenes. It suggests the Padres arenât trying to rush himâbut theyâre also making sure heâs available if something breaks.
Thatâs not development. Thatâs contingency planning.
Thereâs also a subtle philosophical shift here. If Mendez steps into the rotation sooner than expected, it changes how the Padres allocate resources. Less urgency to overspend. Less pressure to chase certainty on the open market. More trust in internal growthâwhether they intended to or not.

The risk is obvious. Push him too fast, and the walk issues get exposed. Confidence wavers. The bullpen door opens permanently. Thatâs the nightmare scenario every development staff tries to avoid.
But waiting too long has a cost, too.
Because if the rotation stumbles and Mendez is dominating in the minors, the question wonât be if heâs calledâitâll be why he wasnât sooner.
The Padres may not be ready to say it out loud.
But the signs are there.
Miguel Mendez isnât just a future problem anymore. Heâs the kind of solution teams quietly prepare forâhoping they wonât need it, while knowing they probably will.
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