Dylan Volantis Named Baseball America’s 2025 College Freshman Of The Year


Image credit: Dylan Volantis (Photo by Eddie Kelly/ ProLook Photos)
There were moments in 2025 when watching Dylan Volantis pitch didn’t feel like baseball. It felt like ballet. Like choreography, if the dancers flung 94 mph sinkers from six-foot-six frames and painted the edges of the strike zone with sweeping breaking balls.
From the dugout steps, Texas pitching coach Max Weiner whispered into the pitch call system. On the mound, Volantis listened. The freshman lefthander nodded, exhaled and executed. Over and over. Out after out.
“It’s like they’re both painting the same picture,” Texas head coach Jim Schlossnagle told Baseball America. “One’s doing it from the dugout, and one’s doing it from the mound. And they’re in sync.”
That synchronization was the heartbeat of one of the nation’s most dominant pitching performances in 2025. And after a freshman season that reset records and recalibrated expectations, Volantis has been named Baseball America’s Freshman of the Year.
Volantis, who ranks third in BA’s 2027 MLB Draft prospect rankings, earned the award with a 1.94 ERA, 74 strikeouts and only 12 walks across 51 innings. He converted 12 saves. Facing the sport’s deepest lineups Southeastern Conference play, Volantis was otherworldly: a 1.59 ERA, 0.85 WHIP, a .160 opponent batting average and 11 saves. The save total was most ever by an SEC freshman, breaking a 22-year-old record set by Ole Miss’ Steven Head.
But to Schlossnagle, Volantis’ brilliance was never about raw numbers. It was about presence, poise and the unteachable heartbeat of a cold-blooded closer.
“He is very selfless, has a really slow heartbeat,” Schlossnagle said. “He’s competitive, but he never makes the moment too big.”
That temperament—paired with elite strike-throwing and an unusual pitch profile—allowed Texas to turn a late-arriving freshman into a foundational piece. Originally a USC signee, Volantis got out of his National Letter of Intent and was still unsigned late last summer. Texas, which underwent a late coaching change and hired Schlossnagle after he took Texas A&M to the 2024 national championship series, pounced.
“We were just super fortunate, number one, that he was even available,” Schlossnagle said. “(Weiner) had loved him for a while. Max thrives on finding uniqueness, and Dylan was certainly very unique analytically.”
The term “unique” applies to Volantis in more ways the one.
Physically, his delivery and release height give him rare traits. At 6-foot-6, Volantis rains pitches down on opponents, capitalizing on his downward-moving arsenal.
From that high slot comes a true sinker—hard, heavy and late-moving—and a devastating spike curveball with excellent depth and finish that’s effective in the zone. They were a challenge just to catch. So much so that Texas backstop Rylan Galvan underwent specific training with stacked pitching machines to learn how to track and block Volantis’ nastiest offerings.
“He throws that sinker from a really high release height, which is not easy to manage if you’re behind the plate,” Schlossnagle said. “Then you’ve got the big overhand breaking ball that a lot of people don’t see anymore. Galvan is to be credited a lot for Dylan’s success, too.”
The pairing with Weiner, though, was where the magic happened.
Weiner, Texas’ 30-year-old pitching savant, eschews traditional pitch labels. He cares only for shape, out-getting value and context. To outsiders, his pitch calling seems eccentric. To opponents, it’s a nightmare.
“I’ve been in this game for 35 years, and when it’s a 3-0 count, you always throw a fastball,” Schlossnagle said. “But if the guy doesn’t throw his fastball for strikes, and he throws his breaking ball for strikes, then why do we always call fastball, right?”
That logic became gospel between Weiner and Volantis. Every pitch had purpose. Every count was an opportunity to gain leverage. And with Volantis’ rare ability to command more than two pitches, the strategy was limitless.
“A confident pitcher is a scary pitcher,” Schlossnagle said. “If they’re confident in what they’re about to throw, that’s a good pitcher.”
Volantis wasn’t just good—he was transcendent.
The bullpen role he eventually came to own wasn’t even the one Texas had originally scripted. Early in the season, the plan was for Notre Dame transfer Will Mercer to close. But when Mercer went down with an injury, the opportunity fell into Volantis’ lap. He didn’t just handle it—he dominated.
“It’s literally every single thing we threw at Dylan, he accomplished it,” Schlossnagle said. “He thrived in it.”
And so Texas adapted. With other arms like Jared Spencer and Luke Harrison stepping up as reliable starters, the coaching staff leaned into Volantis’ versatility. He became the team’s out-getter. Sometimes it was the ninth, sometimes it was the seventh through the ninth. Sometimes, it didn’t matter at all.
“Max’s philosophy is we don’t name roles,” Schlossnagle said. “You’re just an out-getter. It’s a one-inning save, one pitch at a time, and then you go back out and start over again.”
Volantis bought into that philosophy immediately, and it showed. On the biggest stages, he was unflappable. The stuff? Excellent. But the human behind it? Even better.
“We didn’t know that the person was so much better than the pitcher, and that’s really what makes him great,” Schlossnagle said.
What made Volantis BA’s Freshman of the Year was the way he moved through games with confidence, intelligence and intent.
“You throw in the pressures of the game and the sounds and the noise and the intensity and the talent level of each pitch,” Schlossnagle said, “It’s Volantis against Ike Irish. How in the world is this going to work out? Watching Max and Dylan work together to get a great player like Ike out, there’s definitely an appreciation for it that you have to just step back and enjoy.”
You didn’t have to be a scout or a coach to see it. You just had to love the game. What Volantis did in 2025 wasn’t just dominant.
It was art.
“What he was capable of doing, how he responded, how even-keeled his emotions were, how consistent he was in his work habits, how consistent he was as a human being,” Schlossnagle said, “That’s what makes him the way he is. We’re lucky to have him.”