鈥楰: A History of Baseball in Ten Pitches鈥 is 100% in the zone
Tyler Kepner loves baseball, and his book will make you love it too. His history of the game uses stories of career-making pitches as the narrative structure.
Tyler Kepner loves baseball, and his book will make you love it too. His history of the game uses stories of career-making pitches as the narrative structure.
Baseball junkies will love this book. Even casual (October-come-lately) fans will get a buzz off it. And anyone who has swung a bat聽at a 12-6 curveball as it bounced in front of home plate will聽appreciate this confirmation that hitting a baseball is the most聽difficult thing in all of sport.
Tyler Kepner, national baseball writer for The New York Times,聽clearly loves what used to be America鈥檚 pastime, and his affection聽shines through on every page. He has loved the game since he was a boy聽and now in his mid-40s he not only writes about it 鈥 he still plays it, on fields where rival Fourth-Estate hackers do battle. He is, of聽course, a pitcher.
K: A History of Baseball in Ten Pitches聽uses an ingenious聽microscope through which to scrutinize baseball ("K" is聽scorekeeping shorthand for a strikeout). The author elevates trivia and manages to make it consequential. For example, in 1920 America went dry, like totally: Prohibition聽commenced and the spitball pitch was banned. Neither interdict聽worked.聽
And not many people know that New York Yankee right-hander聽Ralph Terry tossed the last pitch of both the 1960 and 1962 World Series. Fewer still know the pitches he threw and the ones he聽chose not to. Those were two consequential decisions. One of聽them sent this author鈥檚 beloved San Francisco Giants down to聽defeat.
Looking at baseball pitch by pitch cleverly conjures the wonders聽of the game and how it has changed. Take the screwball. Hardly anyone does anymore because no one throws it today, but in聽1963 Juan Marichal and Warren Spahn, Hall of Fame aficionados聽of the 鈥渟croogie,鈥 leaned on that peculiar pitch throughout their聽epic 16-inning battle. Willie Mays mercifully ended the stalemate聽with a home run, the game鈥檚 only tally, off of Spahn. He hit a聽鈥渉anging screwball,鈥 Kepner writes. Live by the sword,聽die by the sword. Bye the bye, any pitch preceded by the modifier聽鈥渉anging鈥 is not long for the field of play.
But back to that magical night in San Francisco: Marichal threw聽227 pitches. To recap (in case typos are suspected): that was聽16 innings and 227 pitches, which translates to roughly three聽games worth for today鈥檚 measly mortals.
Kepner keeps his pitch count to 10, each getting a proper聽biography, from birth through the vicissitudes of fashion and聽efficacy. The provenance can be murky. Old timers didn鈥檛 always聽give their pitches names, or the names kept changing. Take the聽curveball (this author always did): aka the hook, the聽bender, or, more familiarly, Uncle Charlie. Some say it first appeared聽during the Civil War. Others say otherwise. Sometimes a curve is聽not exactly a curve, for example, when it鈥檚 a 鈥渟lurve,鈥 which didn鈥檛聽make Kepner鈥檚 top 10.
And for the longest time people questioned whether a curveball聽curved at all, or was rather some sort of optical illusion. In the late 1940s, on TV, Burgess Meredith hosted an investigative program聽that examined whether Preacher Roe鈥檚 bender actually bent. The cameras revealed what any Little Leaguer already knew: It most聽certainly did. The book is full of such delightful tidbits.
In any culture, wisdom (or folly) needs to be passed down from聽one generation to the next and baseball is no exception. Johnny聽Podres would deploy his remarkable changeup to close out the聽1955 World Series win for the Brooklyn Dodgers. The lefty, who聽would become a pitching coach, passed along his devastating聽pitch, thrown with the same arm movement as a fastball but聽traveling 10 mph slower, to the likes of Frank Viola and Pedro聽Martinez. The latter used it to help the Boston Red Sox win the聽2004 World Series, breaking 鈥淭he Curse of the Bambino鈥 that聽dated to 1918.
Kepner鈥檚 book, his first, captures both the glory and vagaries of聽the sport he loves, past and present. What is the best pitch of all?聽The knuckleball? The splitter? The sinker? The cutter? It鈥檚 hard to聽say. It depends on who鈥檚 throwing it, and where, and what other聽pitches the hapless hitter has to contend with. If a batter is聽worried about Sandy Koufax鈥檚 spectacular hook, good luck聽catching up with his high hard one.
So how about that old standby, the fastball, aka the hummer, the聽heater, high cheese, gas, the bullet, etc.? Or, perchance, is it聽good old Uncle Charlie? Kepner reports that in 2017 Lance聽McCullers Jr. threw 24 curveballs in a row; he not only lived to tell the聽tale, he also sent the New York Yankees down to defeat in the聽American League Championship Series.
No less an authority than Ted Williams voted for the slider. But聽the author himself avers, using a qualifier, 鈥淭he best pitch in聽baseball is a well-located fastball.鈥 Like most baseball聽arguments, this one thankfully will never end. And, of course, any聽pitch that hangs need not apply.