The Rockies have had a rough go of it at the big league level, but their farm system just got a lot more interesting. Colorado locked up supplemental first-rounder Daniel Jackson, the Georgia catcher who turned this year's college baseball season into a highlight reel, signing him for $2,297,500, a bit under the assigned slot value of $2,696,700 for the No. 37 overall pick.
Supplemental 1st-rder Daniel Jackson signs w/@Rockies for $2,297,500 (slot 37 value = $2,696,700). @BaseballUGA C, @USAGoldenSpikes winner, won @SEC triple crown, first catcher w/25-25 season in NCAA D-I history. Big power, more athletic than most at his position. @MLBDraft
What makes Jackson worth the buzz isn't just where he went in the draft, it's what he did to get there. He became the first catcher in NCAA Division I history to post a 25-25 season, going deep 25-plus times while also swiping 25-plus bags, a combination almost nobody expects out of a guy squatting behind the plate every day. Catchers are supposed to be lumbering backstops who save their legs for blocking balls in the dirt, not stolen-base threats.
Jackson backed that up with an SEC triple crown season and the Golden Spikes Award, given annually to the best player in college baseball. He led the Bulldogs to the Athens Regional and Super Regional titles and a trip to the College World Series, and he's now the second Georgia player in three years to win the Golden Spikes, following 2024 winner and current Rockies farmhand Charlie Condon.
For a Rockies organization that's been starved for homegrown impact talent, adding a catcher who profiles as both a power bat and a legitimate athlete is a rare swing. Most orgs would take a 25-homer bat behind the plate and call it a day; Jackson gives them that plus speed nobody game-plans for from a catcher.
The bonus number is really just paperwork at this point, the real story is what Jackson does once he's actually catching pro pitching every night instead of SEC arms three times a week. If the power-speed combo translates even partially to wood bats and a taxing everyday workload, Colorado may have found the exact kind of difference-maker its lineup has been missing.