Sam Freeman is probably a pretty good reliever at this point. He's old for a guy who hasn't made his name in the major leagues yet, but he came by it honestly—he was also old for an injured reliever who was spending a full year in AA Springfield three years ago. In parts of three years in Memphis he's struck out a batter an inning and kept his home run and walk rates down for a well-below-the-league-average ERA of 2.84. Kevin Siegrist is probably the young arm the Cardinals can best afford to lose to a possibly-but-not-definitely euphemistic forearm strain.
The thing that's harder to afford, as a baseball fan, is the sense that getting excited about a young pitcher is just the first part of a story that always involves a year in the wilderness and a flinching unease every time you watch him throw that bewildering slider.
Until better evidence contradicts it, I'm willing to believe that a lot of what looks like an epidemic is in fact a combination of teams taking better advantage of young pitchers who are ready to dominate in the major leagues and being more observant of signs that those young pitchers are wearing out in front of them. If Anthony Reyes were the Cardinals' top prospect now—not even 10 years later—he wouldn't grit his teeth and throw a sub-90 fastball for two years before someone suggested the problem was in his shoulder, and not his head.
The more we know about sports injuries the better the game gets—for us and the players and their families and all the kids who really just want to learn a curveball or put on a big helmet and go full-contact. And the more obvious it becomes that being totally oblivious about these things, in addition to causing all kinds of avoidable, sad disasters, was some part of what made sports so fun to watch.