Out in right field before Monday’s game, Max Scherzer came set, then paused. Scherzer was frozen with his hands together, facing center field. He waited. And waited. Then, Scherzer threw a fictitious pitch, uncoiling his pitching motion without a ball, directed at a non-existent plate, all to hold a runner who was not there.
It was odd to see. Scherzer is detail-oriented, bordering on maniacal in some cases, and this is one of his details. Among the long list of his points of pride is not allowing a baserunner to steal second base. He relies on stalling to deter this.
In 2010, Scherzer began considering alternatives to the traditional hard spin and throw that right-handed pitchers use when throwing a pickoff to first base. His right foot had caught in a hole near the rubber more than once, causing his high-velocity pickoff throw to roar wide of the first baseman. Irritated with the errors and results, Scherzer searched for a different tactic.
He began to hold the ball for a long time. Then, he held it longer. In 2014, he compared notes with Detroit Tigers teammate Rajai Davis. From 2009 through 2014, Davis averaged 42 stolen bases a season. He knew tendencies and tricks. Nothing irritated him more than waiting for the pitcher to do something.
Davis’ frustration bolstered Scherzer’s belief that holding the ball was an effective deterrent.
“He absolutely hates it because he just can’t get a jump,” Scherzer said of Davis. “He gets lead feet and that’s something that’s just stuck with me ever since.”
He began practicing holding the ball.
“If you asked me to hold the ball for 15 seconds now, I can do that, that’s easy,” Scherzer said. “When you first start doing it, it’s extremely difficult.”
The waiting builds tension and tramples timing. Scherzer spends time in right field before starts practicing his stoic stance in order to be in control of his rhythm. After years of practicing, he no longer needs to count one, 1,000, two, 1,000, then throw. He creates that rhythm in his head while everyone waits.
“Now, it’s almost hard for me to quick pitch,” Scherzer said.
He classifies runners into four categories. “Burners” will steal second successfully if a pitcher doesn’t work hard to vary his looks. “Fast” is someone who can steal 20 bases in a season. “Stealth” are guys who will steal second if you’re not paying attention. “Not at all” is self-explanatory.
Monday night, Scherzer knew he had a burner on first. Standing there after his first hit in the major leagues was prospect Mallex Smith. Between Single-A and High-A in 2014, Smith stole 88 bases. At Triple-A Gwinnett last season, he stole 34 bases in just 69 games. He was caught only seven times. Burner, indeed.
Smith had picked up his first career hit in the second inning. He was on base again in the fourth following a fielder’s choice. Scherzer honed in on the newbie.
He came set, as he had practiced for years, and waited. The stalling continued with infielders bent at the waist. Nationals catcher Wilson Ramos crouched behind the plate. Ramos is accustomed to Scherzer’s long pauses after working with him last season. He’s for anything that helps him throw out runners, so, in Ramos’ mind, the waiting isn’t the hardest part.
Smith shuffled away from first. He stared. Like most base stealers, Smith keys on a pitcher’s front foot. He had seen this prolonged set from pitchers before, but not like this.
“People have done it, held for a long time, but he was adamant about what he was trying to do right there,” Smith said.
Before the game, word was passed to Smith that Scherzer holds the ball.
“But until you go out there, you experience it, you don’t really necessarily know,” Smith said. “I’ve been held, but I haven’t been held like that.
“Is he going to throw? Is he going to pick? All of that is running through my brain over there. But, after a while, I was like, ’Is he going to do something? Or are we just going to stand here?’”
On the sixth pitch of the at-bat, Smith took off. The intent of Scherzer waiting is to handcuff a base stealer’s jump. Ramos’ throw narrowly beat the 22-year-old to second base. He was out, 0-for-1 in career steals.
There were other complications for Smith. His helmet bounced off, then kicked back into his face, opening a significant slice down the center of his forehead. At first, he thought Nationals shortstop Danny Espinosa had provided a welcome-to-the-big-leagues moment.
“Initially, I when I was bleeding, I was like, ’Damn, they came down on me hard,’” Smith said with a laugh.
He needed five stitches.
Band-Aids ran down Smith’s forehead Tuesday afternoon. A shine from accompanying medication glistened. He was happy about it. The scar will always be a reminder of his first day in the big leagues. Though he was thrown out and injured, his first attempt at stealing a base was worth the wait.
As it was for Scherzer.
• Todd Dybas can be reached at tdybas@washingtontimes.com.
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