You had to feel sorry for Francisco Liriano. Really, really sorry.
There he was all alone out there on the mound, three batters into the game, and he must have felt like he’d landed in some alternative universe, some topsy-turvy place where nothing, absolutely nothing, is the way it should be.
Where was Liriano’s Svengali, his archangel, his dramaturge, the saviour of his career, Russell Martin? Sitting on the bench nursing a sore left shoulder, that’s where.
And there in his place behind the plate was the newly-arrived-and-suddenly-promoted-to-first-string Luke Maile, shucking and jiving, dipping and diving, desperately trying to corral the wild and crazy slants of his pitcher.
Hadn’t he put all this behind him, after his horrendous start to the year?
Jason Kipnis was standing on second, having just delivered a ringing opposite-field double to left to plate Carlos Santana, who had walked on a 3-2 pitch, and Francisco Lindor, who had moved Santana up to second with a single to right that deflected off the glove of Justin Smoak at first. And who was coming to the plate but our dear old Edwin.
Well, let’s be thankful for small mercies. Edwin flied out to Kevin Pillar in centre, with Kipnis moving into scoring position with one out. Then Jose Ramirez rammed one hard on the ground to Devon Travis at second, too sharp for Kipnis to score, for the second out. And Brandon, Hit Me, Please, Guyer managed to avoid being plunked again and popped out to short to end the inning and leave Kipnis hanging at third.
Two runs in, 24 pitches from a very unpromising Francisco Liriano, and missing, let us remember, Josh Donaldson, Troy Tulowitzki, Russell Martin, and now Kendrys Morales, Manager John Gibbons hopefully, perhaps even wistfully, sent his diminished cohort out to face the slants of the formidable if a bit unpredictable Mr. Danny Salazar.
Well, what’s a bunch of lunch-bucket schmucks to do, but go out there and retake the lead before Salazar had even recorded an out? Kevin Pillar walked on a 3-1 pitch. The only ball that was even close was the 3-0 cripple that he maturing Pillar disdained. Zeke Carrera, our smiling little troublemaker, wasn’t so patient, looping an 0-1 fast ball that had nothing to recommend it, pitching-wise, into centre, where it dropped in front of Abraham Almonte for a good old-fashioned Texas Leaguer. By the way, I have decided to revive this charming term, which seems to have fallen into disuse for no good reason that I can discern.
In today’s sans-Morales world, this brought Jose Bautista to the plate. Now the cynics might think, oh, yeah, just because he finally broke off his oh for twenty streak last night with a solid base hit, he was getting rewarded by being dropped into the three-slot. But what was John Gibbons to do? As they say, ya gotta dance with the one that brung ya, and Jose has brung us an awful lot in the last five years. And, by the way, who else was gonna hit third, Steve Pearce? Devon Travis? No offence, guys, but Jose was it, and this time he was it, fer sure.
Salazar’s approach to Bautista had the mark of a guy desperate not to walk the bases full. Five pitches away, down and away. Every one of them. One was called in the zone. Bautista offered at another. The rest he laid off, as he will. So Salazar either made a huge mistake or basically said “here, I hope you pop it up.” And threw it 96, inner third, waist high. Boy, did Jose pop it up. He creamed it, and the only question was whether he hit it hard enough for it to stay straight and fair. He did, and it did. The drought was over for Jose, he now had as many home runs as Ryan Goins (!) and the Jays had a 3-2 lead.
Salazar, his demons exorcised by Bautista, fanned Smoak and Pearce, but Goins, believe it or not hitting sixth in this more than decimated* lineup, gave a little hint of things to come, by going with another fast ball up, and hammering it into left centre, where Abraham Almonte, playing Goins straight up with Salazar on the hill, was able to haul it in for the third out.
*Most misused word in the English language—it has never meant wholesale loss, but literally a loss of one tenth. The Romans took every tenth soldier, one tenth of the cohort, as hostages against cowardice by the rest. The way people use it, the victims of whatever terrible atrocity could only wish they had just been “decimated” rather than much worse. Sorry. Rant over. Back to baseball.
An apparently rejuvenated/relieved Liriano came out for the top of the second, and retired the side on 11 pitches. Groundout, fly ball, fly ball. To be fair, with the loss of Rajai Davis to free agency, and the temporary loss of Michael Brantley, whose ankle sprain Terry Francona doesn’t want to risk on the Dome’s turf, Cleveland’s lineup is also a little deprived after their famous five have had their ups.
I know it’s in retrospect, but in light of what happened in the Cleveland third, it’s really interesting to look at Liriano’s pitch chart on Yan Gomes’ leadoff at bat, in which he grounded out to second on a three-two pitch. If you look at the first pitch and the fifth, the fifth, a called strike, almost perfectly covers the first, called a ball. Both are on the black at the bottom middle of the zone. Hold that thought.
I’m not saying there’s a connection, but Cleveland handed Toronto’s Devon Travis a big gift leading off the home second, but Travis handed it right back. The Jays had a great shot at another good inning off Salazar, and it came to nothing. Maybe this turn of events spooked Liriano, but he never got an out in the Cleveland third as things got way out of hand.
Travis hit a solid but catchable drive to left, but Yandy Diaz, filling in for Brantley, took about six different routes to the ball, and then haplessly watched as it hit the turf and jumped over the fence for two bases. Darwin Barney, who I hoped would be bunting (curse you, John Gibbons, haven’t you ever watched a National League game?) was down 0-2 to Salazar, and then, as he so often does, he pulled a rabbit out of the hat, hitting a grounder in the hole that Francisco Lindor barely got to on his backhand, and had to have been an infield single. Except that Travis, broke from second, and stopped, deer in the headlights, five steps off the bag, looking at Lindor, who was holding the ball, and, I bet, smiling like the cat heading for the cream. Travis was trapped and run down, Barney’s hit became a fielder’s choice, and with number nine who can bunt (remember, Luke Maile came up in Joe Maddon’s system) coming up with a man on first instead of first and second and nobody out.
So whoosh, Salazar got his mojo back, fanned Maile, and then fanned Kevin Pillar. I hate to beat up on poor Devon Travis, but we’ve seen this exact same film before, at least twice last year, in the heat of the pennant race. What part of his baseball makeup doesn’t get not running into the first out after hitting a double?
Liriano came out for the top of the third, and with the customary nod to Yogi, it was dejá vu all over again. He walked Santana on a 3-1 pitch. Lindor singled to left, this time off the glove of Ryan Goins. Kipnis let down the side by just hitting a single to right, scoring Santana with Lindor moving to third.
Hang on, here, let’s go back to the Santana walk. Vic Carapazza was behind the plate. Vic is well loved by the folks here, after the horror show he put on last year on Canada Day, during the fabled 19-inning Toronto-Cleveland clash won by the visitors. His zone was so bad that he enraged Edwin, as if that were ever possible, to the point that he had to eject him. Then he pitched Gibbie for protecting Edwin. Later in the game, he pitched Russell Martin after a dispute over the strike zone, when Martin was actually walking away from him.
Now, Carapazza was also the guy who pitched Gibbie the other night over the obstruction call on Devon Travis. Well, guess what? From Canada Day to tonight, those four Blue Jays are the only players in all of MLB that Carapazza has ejected. Why is he on a crew covering Toronto at all?
So back again to that walk to Santana. 3-1? Really? We can’t get inside the ump’s head, so all we can do is look at the graphics so generously provided by MLB, which also of course hires and oversees the umpires. According to the chart, pitch two, called a ball, was clearly in the black. Pitch five, called ball four, was clearly touching the black. Ya wonder why a pitcher gets annoyed with the strike zone?
So after the Kipnis single ties the game, Liriano walks Edwin on 3-2. No beef with the zone this time, because he was losing it by now. But it loads the bases, and Pete Walker comes out to buy time and calm Liriano down. As he returns to the dugout, he detours a little toward the plate, and appears to say something mildly to Carapazza. Zing! He’s gone! Pete Walker! Who looks and acts like your courtly uncle who flew Spitfires in the Battle of Britain, but went to his death too dignified to ever make much of it.
Jose Ramirez hits a grounder through the right side that scores Lindor with the lead run and keeps the sacks loaded, and that’s the end for Liriano, two innings plus five batters pitched, 7 runs (because Brandon Guyer’s double off Dominic Leone will clear the bases), 5 hits, 3 walks, no strikeouts, on 53 pitches.
After Guyer runs himself into an out at third to let Ramirez score, Leone gives up a double to Gomes, but then shuts down the Cleveland side without further damage.
You can just imagine how the Jays felt coming off the field after the top of the third, their exciting 3-2 lead turned into a 7-3 deficit.
The rest of the game would see them acting out the old adage, don’t get mad, get even.
Before going any further, tribute must be paid to the Toronto bullpen, which stepped up yet again. When Ramirez scored the seventh Cleveland run with nobody out in the third, who could have imagined their offence would be stonewalled the rest of the night?
Leone threw an uneventful fourth, Danny Barnes bent but didn’t break, giving up three hits but no runs in the fifth and sixth, Ryan Tepera retired the side and fanned two on 17 pitches in the seventh, Joe Smith gave up a hit and fanned two in the eighth (how about those two, eh?), and Roberto Osuna, pitching in a tie, whipped through the ninth in 11 pitches with a strikeout, looking more and more like the Osuna of yore (can a 22-year-old even have a “yore”?) So, no runs, six hits, no walks, eight strikeouts over seven innings of relief.
Now, the Jays have nothing on Cleveland’s bullpen, which is the best in baseball. But funny thing about bullpens: sometimes when you have to make the call early, the pattern gets disrupted; strange things happen. You have to go to some of those other guys, who don’t quite make the 7-8-9 lineup. Like the ones that stood up for Toronto tonight.
The thing is, Danny Salazar didn’t make it out of the third either, against the depleted Toronto lineup, and that changed everything. After Zeke Carrera grounded out to short, Salazar walked Bautista, who still gets his bases on balls no matter what. With Smoak up against the righty, Cleveland went into the usual shift, but I have a question: if you’ve got the infield defense skewed all the way around to the right, why is the right fielder playing straight up on Smoak. So he hits one down the line and it goes for a double even with Smoak “running”, Bautista stopping at third. Steve Pearce hits a sac fly to centre to score Bautista, and here comes Smoaky, truckin’ on to third. No problem, eh? Next comes Ryan Goins with two away. Easy peasy. ‘Cept Goins confidently smacks a 1-2 pitch out over the plate into left centre to score Smoak, and it’s 7-5.
That was the end for Salazar, who outlasted Liriano by two whole outs despite the gift lead, and gave up five runs on five hits, walked two and struck out four on 69 pitches. Dan Otero came in to retire Travis, and after three innings it was 7-5 Cleveland with both starters out of the game.
We already know that the visitors stalled at seven, but the Jays had a few more tricks up their sleeve, most prominent a couple of secret weapons that are getting a good airing these days, Zeke Carrera and Ryan Goins. After Leone cruised the Cleveland fourth, Darwin Barney led off by turning a single into a double on sheer chutzpah. It looked like he was going to die there, as Luke Maile grounded out to short, though he did move up on Pillar’s nubber to third that went for the second out.
Then that wild and crazy Carrera decided to cross everybody up and actually pull the ball, right over the right field fence, and just like that the game was tied and everybody in the yard, and at least one old guy at home, went bonkers. Whimsical stat of the night: with their homers tonight, Bautista and Carrera both pulled into a tie with Goins with three homers on the season.
From that point Otero, Nick Goody, Boone Logan, and Brian Shaw kept it clean for Cleveland, taking us to the ninth, though Shaw had to skate around two hits and a walk in the seventh and eighth.
It’s now the fashion that you use your closer in the ninth in a tie game (are you listening, Buck Showalter?), so just like John Gibbons ran out Osuna in the top of the ninth, Terry Francona tabbed his closer Cody Allen, with awesome numbers so far this year, for the bottom of the ninth. (A friendly tip to Pat Tabler: the current Cleveland manager is Terry Francona, who never made much of a dint as a player. Tito Francona was Terry’s dad, and he was a pretty exciting ball player in his day.)
Funny with closers: sometimes they have a bad outing, and when they do, it can be a real stinker. And tonight Cody Allen limburgered the place up right and proper. Maybe he’d had too much rest, but he was overcranked and wild. He went 3-2 on Pillar leading off before the latter flied out to centre. He went 3-2 on Carrera before he hit a Texas Leaguer to centre. (There, I said it! With Carrera it’s easy, he does it all the time.)
Then he got a little breathing space by fanning Bautista on a 2-2 pitch. Let’s face it, that particular lightning wasn’t going to strike twice, was it? Ah, but then he went 3-2 on both Smoak and Pearce before losing them, loading them up for our newly-minted number six hitter, Ryan Goins.
Now Goins is nothing if not a sharp observer. He’d watched Allen throw 31 pitches, but only 15 for strikes. He knew that Allen was going to be desperate not to fall behind, or worse, bury one in the dirt with the game on the line. So Goins went up looking heater in the zone, and that’s what he got, 94 and up and in, but on the black, almost right on the corner. He put a good swing on it and ripped a vicious liner past Santana into the right-field corner, and the ball game was over. He was robbed of a double and a couple more ribbies because the game was over, but he had a ticket to ride, and he din’t care . . .
So you start out in a hole, a malevolent presence behind the plate helps dig the hole a little deeper, and then a bunch of unlikely heroes like Zeke Carrera, Ryan Goins, a badly slumping Jose Bautista, and Joe and Roberto and a whole bunch of other unheralded joes in the bullpen put their backs to it, and whattaya got?
One damn satisfying win.
Not to mention taking our first series from the blankety-blank Clevelands Who Shall Remain Nameless until They Scrap their Ugly and Offensive Logo. Begone, Clevelands! Your “tribe” is definitely not our tribe!
And how ’bout this: Let’s write in super-sub Ryan “Go-Go” Goins for the all-star team. He outplayed the vaunted Francisco Lindor in this series, didn’t he? Oh, yes, he did!
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