With the game about to start, the booth greeted the fans.
—Game one of the California League playoff division series! We’re at San Bernardino Stadium. Good evening, everybody, John Miller here.
—Hello there. Bill Heywood alongside on the analysis. The postseason is finally here.
—It is. And tonight’s game is the rivalry game in the California League South. The Inland Empire 66ers, first in the league overall, against the Rancho Cucamonga Quakes, who ran off a miraculous streak at the end of the season and grabbed second place at the wire!
—The 66ers were well ahead in the season series, eighteen and ten. But I believe tonight will be different.
—Before we get into it, let’s take a look at the lineups. The visiting Quakes first.
- Suho Oh, CF
- Cash Meyer, SS
- Luis Garcia, 2B
- Mark Williams, 1B
- Alexander A. Jackson, DH
- Miguel Sanchez, C
- Carlos Rodriguez, 3B
- Derek Wilson, LF
- Anthony Rizzo, RF P. Ryan Pepiot
And now the home side, the 66ers.
- Trevor Johnson, 2B
- Jorge Mateo, CF
- Brian Lopez, RF
- Nelson Cordero, DH
- Jordan Adell, LF
- Vinnie Pasquantino, 1B
- Matthew Nelson, 3B
- Diego Cartaya, C
- Jack Wilson, SS P. Zack Cozart
—Bill, how do you see tonight’s game?
—The 66ers had the better of the season series by a wide margin. On the data, the home side is the pick tonight as well. But I don’t see it that way.
—Oh? And why is that?
—Because of the two players who joined this club late. The leadoff center fielder, Suho Oh, and the number four hitter at first base, Mark Williams.
The color man went on.
—The 66ers are ahead over the whole season, certainly. But limit it to the twenty games since those two joined, and it’s a different story.
—The Quakes started a run of wins the day those two arrived, and they rode that all the way here to the playoffs.
—They did. And this is more than the lineup getting stronger. The mood of the team, the focus in the dugout, all of it changed. It’s fair to say the Quakes are a completely different team than they were before those two showed up.
—So who do you think the key player will be?
—I’d take the leadoff man, Suho Oh, without hesitating.
—Suho Oh? His feel at the plate has been remarkable, of course, but you’ve got Mark Williams hitting fourth, and Cash Meyer at shortstop, who’s one of the best hitters in this league. Is there a particular reason you’re picking Suho Oh?
—Well… because this kid has real passion in him. The way he never stops trying to learn is something to see. I’d bet that in passion alone he’s the best in the minor leagues.
Had he named Suho the key player on the strength of their conversation on the bus?
You could see it that way.
This was openly partisan commentary in the first place, and their job was to give the fans, however few of them there were, what they wanted to hear.
But the two of them were paid professionals as well.
They didn’t invent things that weren’t there.
Players who bring passion to the minor leagues are rare, and it was a strength Suho had all to himself.
The color man finished with a smile.
—And passion isn’t all of it. Normally a player who leads with passion makes a lot of mistakes, and this one doesn’t. He’s got the ability, the baseball IQ, and the willingness to give himself to the team. I think the direction of this game gets decided by what this player does tonight.
And with that, the game began.
Top of the first.
Suho stepped into the left-handed batter’s box and let out a long breath.
“Whoo.”
Then he fixed his eyes on the pitcher.
The pitcher, Zack Cozart.
He was the number one starter in the California League, in name and in fact.
A 98-mile-an-hour fastball coming down out of a body six feet five inches tall.
First in the league in wins, first in strikeouts, second in ERA.
Nobody at this Low-A level was rated a match for him.
He was the best pitching prospect the Angels had, and they treasured him.
Zack ran a slow look of his own over the man in the box.
That Korean… don’t take him lightly under any circumstances.
To begin with, Zack was nothing like the other players, who treated the playoffs as overtime.
He was already confirmed for the higher league next season.
High-A.
But his goal didn’t end at getting promoted.
Big personal numbers stay with you forever.
He had to finish these playoff numbers off perfectly too.
Then if he did well in High-A later on, he might be moved up to Double-A partway through a season on the strength of the earlier record.
Getting to a higher level even a little sooner meant the majors were that much closer.
The numbers don’t betray you.
So this leadoff hitter, the one who might wreck his numbers tonight, had to be dealt with. No exceptions.
They said his exit velocity is first in the league.
Zack had run the video on Suho over and over before the game.
A build like his own.
Thinner than his own, if anything.
And out of a body like that came an exit velocity that made a joke of Low-A, a number that made no sense.
And this is a place full of prospects whose defense isn’t finished yet.
Pitching to contact and hoping for outs carried far too high a chance of turning into hits.
Which left one answer.
Go for the strikeout every time.
And Zack had confidence in his stuff.
At this level, at least, he was certain he could beat most hitters.
Meanwhile.
Suho was putting his own thoughts in order.
He’ll probably come at me for the strikeout.
The reason was simple.
His exit velocity was already first in the whole league.
More than a few clubs had tried to get him out on contact and failed.
No chance the best team in the league doesn’t know that.
Baseball is a sport of reading the other man’s move.
And in that reading, Suho was clearly a step ahead.
As proof of it, Suho took in the whole field at a glance.
The infielders’ feet had edged back a fraction, and the outfield was set a little deeper than normal.
Which means they’re afraid of my exit velocity.
Set back like that, they can handle a ball however fast it comes off the bat.
But on the other hand.
It also makes a bunt easier to lay down.
The problem was the pitcher’s velocity and his stuff.
The heavy ball of a number one starter who had made up his mind to strike people out.
A ball that fast and that strong is extremely difficult to redirect with bat control.
I’ll do it anyway.
Suho’s eyes went cold and bright.
You’ve got plenty riding on this. So do I.
The man who wants it more wins.
Let the first pitch go.
The reason was simple.
He hadn’t faced this pitcher’s ball yet, and it was going to be top of the line.
Getting a surprise bunt down on the first pitch wouldn’t be bad, but it wasn’t what Suho wanted.
They all need to see it first. How good this guy’s stuff really is.
Beating a ball that good is worth more than a bunt single.
Because it takes the team’s spirit and the other side’s pride in one hand and shakes them.
Suho adjusted his grip on the bat, and the windup started.
And.
Thump.
A roar went through the ballpark, like the catcher’s mitt had torn open.
The number on the scoreboard read 99.
At that moment somebody’s muttering leaked out of the Quakes dugout.
“How is anybody supposed to hit that?”
An uneasy current ran through the bench.
Because the other side was strong. Far too strong.
Suho’s eyes went wide too, but he wasn’t rattled.
I expected it. It only fires me up more.
Then the second pitch.
Another heavy fastball came out of the pitcher’s hand, this one on a slightly higher course.
Suho laid the bat flat.
The bunt stance.
“…!”
The third baseman and the first baseman charged in on reflex.
At the same time a sneer settled at the corner of the pitcher’s mouth, and the catcher’s.
A bunt on a ball that high?
It was a 99-mile-an-hour high fastball.
Get a bunt on that and nine times out of ten it pops up for an easy out.
Which made it plainly a stupid thing to do.
And then what was this?
Tok.
At the last instant Suho eased his grip to kill as much of the ball’s force as he could.
There was a dull sound, and the ball didn’t come up off the ground.
The battery was rattled by the sight of it.
Because it was too perfect a bunt.
From Suho’s side, though, it wasn’t a perfect bunt at all.
The best version of it rolls right along the third-base line, and instead the ball had gone somewhere between the pitcher and the third baseman.
And of the two, it was rolling slightly toward the pitcher.
Not satisfied with that…
Suho flung the bat away and broke for first.
The pitcher came down off the mound in a hurry and ran at the ball.
His eyes flashed as he came up with it.
He had it. He’d handled the ball fast.
However quick the hitter’s legs were, all he had to do was throw to first and that was an out—
“Run! Run!”
Shouts broke out of the Quakes dugout.
The runner’s speed down the line had gone into overdrive.
The pitcher swallowed his panic and made the throw.
But.
A rush of air.
Suho’s body came up off the ground.
A slide into first base going in head first.
A head-first slide, in other words.
The truth is you don’t often see a head-first slide from the box to first base.
And no wonder, because simply running through it is faster.
Even so, the reason Suho threw himself was simple.
Part of it was the plan he’d laid out beforehand, the hustle play.
And most of it was that he badly wanted to be safe at first.
Spending his whole body to reach base was nothing at all to Suho.
It looked desperately close.
Close enough that the eye couldn’t tell who had reached the bag first.
And in the middle of it Suho got up out of the dust and threw both arms out wide.
“Safe!”
There was no doubt at all in the gesture.
The major leagues have replay review, and so does Triple-A.
But the leagues below that don’t.
Which leaves the judgment entirely to the umpire’s discretion.
So had Suho’s declaration helped?
Or had his fingers actually reached the bag first?
“Safe!”
The first-base umpire’s arms swept out to either side.
The pitcher stood there stunned. The first baseman protested immediately and got nowhere with it.
The leadoff man aboard in the top of the first, nobody out.
And stepping into the box, the Quakes’.
No. Low-A’s best hitter, Cash Meyer.
It really is strange.
Cash thought it over as he walked slowly to the box with the bat resting on his shoulder.
Why the hell does he do that?
The result is good. Honestly, there was no arguing with it.
Because he had completely broken the spirit of a number one starter throwing 99.
And with a bunt.
Amateur or professional, an ace pitcher dominates a game with his own overwhelming power and rhythm.
And now the symbol of that power, a 99-mile-an-hour fastball, had been neutralized by a surprise bunt.
That wrecks a pitcher’s rhythm, cuts his pride, and paralyzes his reason.
He was going to be throwing out of anger now instead of out of composure.
So Suho had done well. That much was true.
But… that play just now clearly carried a risk of injury.
What if that violent head-first slide had gone in even a little wrong?
A finger bent back on the bag could break, and a shoulder or a wrist could be wrecked.
In these minor leagues, where everything is evaluated on statistics, a reckless play like that was no different from suicide.
An injury… in a competition this insane, an injury meant falling behind.
And even so, there wasn’t one second of hesitation to be found in Suho.
Which was exactly why Cash couldn’t understand him.
There’s no other word for it. It’s dumb.
But that was that.
Cash’s eyes went cold and bright.
No sense wasting the opportunity.
Because it was an opportunity for him to stand out.
Cash stepped into the box.
Suho, the runner at first, started his lead.
The pitcher on the mound still hadn’t worked the anger out of himself, and he threw Suho a glance.
Then the first pitch.
As though to wash the humiliation off himself, the pitcher drove a fastball at Cash with everything he had.
But it was a ball with anger on it instead of composure.
Suho had smashed the man’s calm to pieces.
Which meant the pitch didn’t go to the outside corner where the mitt wanted it, and got pulled into the middle of the strike zone instead.
And Cash.
Cash was not a hitter who let a mistake pitch like that go by.
Craaack!
The sound of contact rang out clean.
The ball drew an enormous arc across the San Bernardino night sky and went well over the left-field fence.
A two-run home run.
Then Cash touched home.
Suho had gotten there first and was waiting with his hand up for a high five.
Cash had the look of a man bored by an obvious outcome, but he opened his palm and met Suho’s.
Then he said it under his breath.
“That’s how you play baseball.”
Suho tilted his head.
He seemed to be saying you do it by crushing people with overwhelming talent, not by rolling around in the dirt.
It might well have been a remark dismissing him, but Suho grinned as though it didn’t bother him at all.
“Yeah. That’s definitely great baseball. But I’m satisfied with my baseball right now.”
Throwing his body around was a play only he could put on show in these minor leagues.
Suho knew as well as anyone how much a home run affects the direction of a game.
But it was because of his play that Cash had a two-run home run instead of a solo shot.
So I’m not ashamed of it.
Not one bit.
“You live a tiring life. Get hurt and it gets more tiring.”
Hm? Was that concern?
Suho let out a short laugh.
The world Cash lived in was strange enough that he couldn’t be sure, but somehow it felt that way.
“Thanks. But I’m all right.”
Cash tilted his head at that, then moved off to the dugout like he’d lost interest.
Following behind him, Suho laughed under his breath.
Because every bit of that play was calculated.
There’s a risk of injury when you throw yourself into something on impulse.
I know that too.
Because he had picked up small injuries on plays like that more than once or twice himself.
But a play that has been calculated carries an extremely low chance of injury, short of an accident nobody could avoid.
Suho wanted to play baseball for a long time.
Which obviously meant he had not the slightest intention of getting hurt.
But that was that.
Anyway, one hit in the bank!
The game was still running the way he intended.
Which left plenty of room to make something happen.
End of Chapter 30