Weekend Sports Watch

You don’t want to miss the long Memorial Day weekend’s big matchup Sunday night, when Dodgers’ ace Clayton Kershaw is scheduled to take the mound in Queens, N.Y. to duel with Mets’ ageless wonder Bartolo Colon, aka “Big Sexy.” Kershaw’s coming off his third shutout of the year, a two-hitter against the Reds, which brings his record to 7-1 with an ERA of 1.48. Some argue that he’s not simply the best pitcher in baseball but one of the game’s all-time best, closing in on Cy Young, Walter Johnson, Lefty Grove, and Roger Clemens.

How important is pitching? Consider the age-old theological riddle concerning the omnipotence of the creator: Could God make a rock so large that even God couldn’t budge it? Now, transfer the same principle to the diamond—could God throw a fastball so hard that God couldn’t hit it? And the answer is clear: Good pitching beats good hitting.

As Jeff Passan explains in The Arm, the centrality of pitching is why major league baseball spends more than $1.5 on pitching every year. That and the amount of damage done to the limb compelled to perform an entirely unnatural motion. Literary critic John Smoltz says The Armis “the most important baseball book in years.” I’m hardly one to argue with the hall of fame starter and closer, but look for my review here shortly.

Until then, check out “The Art of Catching,” an essay former Yankees all-star Jorge Posada wrote for The Players’ Tribune, a sports site published by his former teammate Derek Jeter. The two of them, along with Andy Pettitte and Mariano Rivera constituted the Bronx Bombers’ “core four,” the nucleus of the Yankees late 20th-century dynasty. “I know Mariano Rivera like he’s my brother,” writes Posada

I would set up behind the plate, and I knew exactly where he wanted to throw the ball in every situation. It was that kind of relationship. I was reading his mind. Some of my favorite moments were catching Mariano when he went up against David Ortiz or Manny Ramirez. Ortiz had a hole. It was a very small, little hole, right underneath his hands. If you missed down, he would hurt you. You had to keep it right underneath his hands because he wouldn’t swing higher, and he likes the ball down and in. Same thing with Manny. A strike in the middle of the plate? Manny Ramirez would crush you. Anything — curveballs, sinkers, sliders — it didn’t matter what you threw. If it was on the plate, he was deadly. So we had to come inside at his letters on the first pitch in order to back him off the plate a little bit, and then we would have some room to go down and away on him the next pitch. Mariano, mentally, was above any pitcher I knew. You would go to the mound, and he would just say, “Let’s go.” He already knew what he was going to do, and he had the pinpoint control to do it. It was ridiculous. Derek Jeter used to say he had Jedi powers.

Catchers, as Posada explains, need to know their pitchers and the other team’s lineup. Here he is explaining how he’d ask for a certain pitch early in the game because he suspected he might need it later.

When I got to the bullpen during warmups, I’d catch my pitcher for 20 minutes to feel out what was working for him that day. Maybe his cutter was sharp, but his changeup wasn’t working as well. This is where it got really interesting. A perfect example is Andy Pettitte. From the first inning, Andy was always very good at pitching on the inside to righthanded hitters. His fastball, cutter and curveball I could always count on. The last pitch Andy would get was his changeup. But I needed that changeup. That’s the pitch that we could get a ground ball on if we needed a double play. So we couldn’t just abandon it. We had to work it in slowly, in situations where Andy couldn’t get hurt. Two outs, nobody on, 1-and-2 count? Sure, maybe we could get the guy to strike out with Andy’s curveball. But instead, I’d call for a changeup so Andy could get a feel for it. We might need it later. Same thing with David Wells. I could never call a changeup before the fourth inning, because he was just too strong and he would throw it too hard. I needed him to be a little tired so he had a nice 10 mile-per-hour difference between his fastball and changeup.

The changeup seems to be an important factor in the success of the Indians’ Danny Salazar, a power pitcher who seems to be coming into his own this year, with an ERA of 2.32. He learned the changeup, Salazar tells David Laurila at Fangraphs, when he was a kid. “This guy taught it to me when I was really young, back in the Dominican Republic. It was a random guy I met during a Little League game. He told me that grip one day. He was like, ‘That’s a curveball change.’ I was like, ‘What is that?’

“I grip it with my middle fingers together in the spot where you throw a two-seam fastball. Then I have these two fingers apart, around the ball, and the other one in back. It’s not a split. The grip has been the same since I was maybe eight years old.”

That’s right—eight years old. Pitchers.

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