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Two pitches. That's all it took, and it had nothing to do with the results of those pitches.

I'm talking about what I saw from Francisco Liriano on April 13 in his first start after returning from Tommy John surgery. Something wasn't right, and not only because Liriano looked jittery and uncomfortable, and clearly didn't have a feel for the ball. I was willing to forgive him for looking jittery and uncomfortable; it was his first big league outing in 19 months to the day. I also was willing to forgive the lack of feel for the ball. After all, it was 37 degrees in Kansas City, with a 15 mph wind.

Liriano struggled that day (4 2/3 innings, five walks, six hits, four runs to the Royals), as ESPN Fantasy, "SportsCenter" and every known media outlet that covers Major League Baseball reported. But I was not concerned with the way he pitched in terms of results; I was concerned with the way he pitched mechanically. To be more specific, Liriano looked as if he had been "institutionalized" as a pitcher to become more mainstream. He was throwing from a higher arm angle. He was throwing over the top.

So I went back and watched footage of Liriano from 2006 to see if I could tell a difference. I could, and it was very noticeable. The dominant Liriano of 2006 threw from a three-quarters arm angle, sometimes lower. He "swept" his arm across his body and often finished looking at the third baseman or even shortstop for a brief moment. This is what you call unconventional, and the delivery wreaked havoc on hitters. His fastballs were hard and had serious movement, usually tail, because of the sidearmed delivery, and the angle of the pitches was hardly straight. Just imagine walking up to a plate and facing the mound as if to face a pitcher, then having the pitcher walk three to five steps toward first base and throwing to you from that angle (without you cheating and squaring up against him). Randy Johnson has the same advantage as a hard three-quarters guy.

In 2006, Liriano's fastballs were tailing, his curves were breaking five feet and dropping, his slider was bearing in on righties and he was tough as heck to read. Hitters who face pitchers who throw over the top and lunge at the plate, as most pitchers do, have a good idea of where that pitcher's release point is going to be. But it's tougher to tell with those three-quarters guys because they sweep side to side. It's kind of like watching the Tasmanian Devil spin and trying to look for a pitch coming from there.

So Liriano had it all going for him, and his numbers in 2006 (2.16 ERA, 144 K's in 121 innings) showed it. What he didn't have going for him: the long-term well-being of his arm. Scouts will say they can smell an arm injury years before it actually happens, and it's usually the unconventional hard throwers -- the short-armers, the sidearmers, the upper-body throwers -- who are considered to be the most at risk for injury. I've heard predictions of breakdowns from scouts regarding guys like Ken Hill, Freddy Garcia and many others years before they happened.

Liriano was at risk because of the violent strain he put on his shoulder and elbow. He battled shoulder problems in the minors with the Giants, and it didn't help that he was actually signed by San Francisco as a young outfielder with little pitching experience. Then the perhaps inevitable: He blew his arm out at age 22, in no small part because of the odd mechanics that made him successful. (Wonder if the Giants actually saw this coming? Hmm.)

The Twins had 19 months to work on him, to teach him to throw all over again, and they made the right decision in changing his throwing motion, if that was in fact their intent. If he comes back as he was, he turns into Mark Prior or Kerry Wood, a hard thrower who can't stay healthy. If he comes back as a pitcher with "safer" mechanics, there's a chance he could still be brilliant again, but more importantly, he can hang around and pitch for years to come.

I've checked out each one of Liriano's three starts this season, and I see a pitcher who is conventionally throwing more over the top and diving more toward the plate (though he still turns sideways some), with not quite the same velocity (which is understandable at this point) on his fastball and less sideway tilt on his breaking stuff. As a result, Liriano is much easier to read. He's fighting himself, his mechanics and his feel for what made him successful. He walked five more batters and struggled against the Indians in his second start, and he couldn't get out of the first on Thursday against the A's, allowing five hits, three walks and six runs in two-thirds of an inning.

Unfortunately, I see this as a lose-lose situation for this season. Either he falls back into his comfort zone (drops his arm angle) and begins to feel pain again later this season, or he sticks with the conventional and doesn't quite get a feel for things until (at least) next season.

I think it'll be Plan B -- for his health's sake, I hope so -- and he'll continue to struggle. I say he'll get bombed and/or walk a ton of batters for three or four more starts, get sent back to the minors in mid-May to clean himself up and then come back in July or August and pitch OK, but not great. Something like that. Then next year he takes a developmental step forward, not unlike most 25-year-old pitchers, and becomes a solid No. 3 mixed-league starter.

Liriano owners -- and I am one, in an AL-only keeper league, no less -- hate to hear this, I realize, and many could be in a state of denial that this is even possible. But it was simply not realistic for us to expect him to return to 2006 form in April or, in my mind, at all this season. Granted, it's early, but I see a different pitcher, and the 211 pitches I've seen since those first two haven't done much to change my mind.

Brendan Roberts is a contributing writer/editor for ESPN Fantasy.