One of the important things about what Max Scherzer did on Wednesday, when he struck out 20 Detroit Tigers (and had a shot at 21) is this: Even as it was happening, there was an absolute understanding:
This may be one of the last times — if not the very last — we could watch history as it happened on a pitcher’s mound knowing it only would be interrupted by the circumstances of the game, not of something beyond the game. Maybe the Tigers would ground out three times, keeping Scherzer at 18. Maybe they actually would get a few runs and really ruin it.
Or maybe it would happen, as it happened.
Either way, a perfect storm of context was occurring on the mound at Nationals Park. Scherzer, for one, had a ridiculously low pitch count. He is also a veteran, with a heretofore rubber arm, so there was little doubt he would be allowed to keep his own counsel about how far he would allow himself to go.
Also, Dusty Baker manages the Nats — there will no jokes here about his proficiency for putting golden arms in harm’s way, just a recognition that Baker appreciates an old-school effort more than most modern managers allow themselves to (or are allowed to).
So Scherzer got there, and in 2016 that meant it was a humongous community effort: Maybe you watched on MLB Network, or as part of your MLB TV package. Maybe you followed on your smart phone. Maybe you just had a buddy with any of those things forwarding you the info.
Either way, you were right there with Scherzer every step, every pitch.
And you knew — had to know — this might be the last of its kind for a while. Maybe forever. Twice this year, after all, pitchers had been removed later in games while still throwing no-hitters — Ross Stripling of the Dodgers, taken out by manager Dave Roberts after taking a no-no into the eighth inning against the Giants; Miami’s Adam Conley handing the ball to Don Mattingly after 7 ²/₃ no-hit innings against the Brewers.
Both pitchers are young, both had elevated pitch counts — and though Roberts received some criticism for his decision when it happened, by the time Mattingly duplicated the trick a few weeks later, there was a far more measured reaction. Hey, that’s the way it is in 2016. Health matters more than it ever has before. And thinking logically and rationally, that is probably as it should be.
No, this won’t be a rant about the Way Things Are or a wistful yearning for How They Used To Be. What’s the point? We are beyond the Rubicon with that. Pitchers aren’t going to thrown 140 pitches anymore. They aren’t going to be pushed past their limits. As much as we hate to admit it, usually the caution is proven right.
Ask Mets manager Terry Collins, right? Twice in recent years he has made old-school choices and lived to regret them, whether they were his fault or not. The night Johan Santana threw his no-hitter against the Cardinals, the camera kept capturing Collins in full-blown torturous mode. He knew the odds he was defying by allowing Santana to throw so many pitches. He knew he would have been the most detested man in New York if he had taken Santana out.
And he has regretted not doing so ever since, even though Santana got his moment and his no-hitter, because it was about a month later that Santana broke down again, and he has yet to be heard from since.
Then there was his decision to allow Matt Harvey to pitch the ninth inning of Game 5 of last year’s World Series. One of the famous quotes in baseball history belongs to Johnny Keane, who once went with a clearly tiring Bob Gibson in a critical game, saw Gibson finish the job, then said, “I made a commitment to his heart.”
Collins did the same thing, and he was burned for it. Does Harvey’s clear loss of confidence have anything to do with that? Maybe, maybe not. Would another manager do the same thing ever again, seeing what has happened? Unlikely. And hard to argue with, either. That’s how things are. It’s how they will be. Will another pitcher sitting on 18 strikeouts ever get another shot at a ninth inning?
Maybe, maybe not.
But it’s best to keep the memory of Max Scherzer close to you. Just in case.
Whack Back at Vac
Frank Giordano: I was never very good at math in school. So I don’t understand this equation. The Jet won’t give Fitz $11-12 mil. But Eli gets $20M?
Vac: The hidden part of the equation: 2-0 (as in championships).
Bruce Welsch: Someone was telling me that in baseball’s past, pitchers actually threw complete games, they didn’t have pitch counts on the TV screen, and there was no replay review that holds up the game. Can any of this possibly be true?
Vac: Bruce, have you been sampling those funny vitamins again?
@jmpdds: Why doesn’t the @NBA crack down on Gregg Popovich? It’s an embarrassment to the league. So much for being a “team player.”
@MikeVacc: He’s a hell of a coach, one of the best ever. But I happen to think he’s a whole lot less clever than he thinks he is as a media gadfly. Maybe it’s just me.
Ron Goydic: Mike, when Gary Cohen screamed “the impossible has happened” after Bartolo Colon’s homer Saturday, I immediately thought of Al Michaels’ “Do you believe in miracles?” call at Lake Placid.
Vac: Some have said Cohen went over the top with that call; I am blown away by how he was able to summon what he said as it happened, because there’s no way he could have prepared for that moment. That goes for Howie Rose’s call, too.
Vac’s Whacks
MLB Network has an absolutely must-see Joe DiMaggio documentary airing at 8 o’clock Sunday night, “56: The Streak.” It is a terrific hour of TV — and I would feel that way even if it didn’t happen to have some observations from the author of a little book called “1941: The Greatest Year in Sports” (available on Kindle for only $13.99!)
One of the sad parts about watching Matt Harvey’s struggles is this: It gets harder and harder to remember the first four months of his 2013 season, when just about every start he had was so good and so overpowering that by comparison it made Noah Syndergaard’s stuff look like Jamie Moyer’s.
The must-read baseball book of this spring and summer so far: “The Last Innocents,” by Michael Leahy, about the ’60s Dodgers and the collision of a conservative organization and a turbulent time.
I would make a joke about asking Phil Jackson to pick up the white courtesy phone, but I’m not sure they even have telephones where he spends most of his free time.