One Thing You Can Do, One Pitch You Can Do It With: Brewers' Marvelous Specificity Creates Runs in Bunches

[Matthew Trueblood]

Image courtesy of © Michael McLoone-Imagn Images

Covering the fastball and the splitter is for suckers. So, for that matter, is covering the inside corner and the outside corner. Using the whole field? Loser stuff. Seeing it high and meeting it low? Nonsense. Modern pitchers are too good for a big-league batter to dig in and assume their stance with more than one vision in mind. That doesn't mean their vision shouldn't change, from at-bat to at-bat and even from pitch to pitch, but there's only room for one radically simple idea in the head of a successful hitter at any given time: What can I do here, and what pitch can I do it on?

That's how the Brewers hit, and it's paid off for them in spades this year. They play, perhaps, the best team-oriented offense in recent memory, with a deep lineup full of hitters whose skill sets complement one another—but, more importantly, who have each bought in on the ethos of doing what the situation permits and giving their teammates chances to make plays, too. With a chance to push their fiercest rivals all the way to the ropes in Game 2 of the National League Division Series, the Crew brought that style to bear, thanks to the extremely specific plans of attack at bat that have characterized so much of their season.

After Aaron Ashby got rocked by a three-run home run in the top of the first inning, the home team knew they needed some baserunners. They needed to respond by applying some pressure of their own, even if they didn't immediately tie the score. They had the luxury, in this game, of facing an extremely familiar foe, Shota Imanaga. His recent struggles are well-documented, and if I can distill and deliver a detailed diagnosis thereof to you, then you can bet the Brewers had an even better one. Imanaga, lately, has only been able to drive his splitter down below the strike zone when he pulls it across the plate, which has affected the way he can locate his fastball. As a result, he's increasingly turned to breaking balls, even against right-handed batters. That was one thing the Brewers knew. They also knew he was still living at the top of the zone with his fastball against left-handed batters. Quickly. all of that came into play in decisive fashion.

Imanaga struck out both Jackson Chourio and Brice Turang to begin the outing, leaving him just one out away from getting back into the dugout and giving his team a three-run cushion on which to attempt to build. Chourio kept anticipating the breaking ball; he fanned on a heater in a hittable part of the zone. Turang whiffed on a high heater, trying to take control of that segment but failing. 

William Contreras, however, had just the right plan—a unique one, but an almost unbeatable one. He fouled off a first-pitch sweeper from Imanaga, which bent far in toward him. That invited another one, and Imanaga obliged—but Contreras got the swing right this time. It was a short, smooth stroke, far slower than his top speed but under control, and he lined a ball cleanly down the left-field line. It was not only a single, but (with an .890 expected batting average, according to Statcast) a sure single off the bat. It was carefully managed contact, but whereas baseball people talk mostly about pitchers managing quality of contact, this was a hitter doing so.

You can't do what Contreras did with that pitch without anticipation, and you can't do it without tradeoffs. The swing he put on that ball was planned, and it was efficient, but it had no chance to generate a home run, or even a screaming line drive. It wouldn't have worked on a fastball or a splitter. Contreras had to go up knowing (or believing fiercely enough to have conviction in it) that he'd get the sweeper inside, and plan to hit a flare into left field. He had to be radically specific.

So, too, did Christian Yelich, who came up next and lined the first pitch—a fastball in the top third of the zone—into left field, uncatchable. Again, it was a very controlled swing. Again, Yelich wasn't giving himself any chance to hit the ball 400 feet. Again, the expected batting average (.870) reflects the fact that (having executed the way he did) Yelich was essentially guaranteed a hit. As Contreras had watched Chourio's at-bat to lead off the game, Yelich had watched Turang's. They knew what they'd get, and what they could definitely do with that. On other teams, with two outs and nobody on base, hitters like Contreras and Yelich are exhorted not to settle for low-upside singles. They're charged with trying to hit for power, which means taking or spoiling a pitch they know they can get a hit on and trying to force one they can get a big hit on. In Milwaukee, though, even the big boppers learn to look for an easy hit when they can get it, and to pass the baton. Keep the line moving; turn left. That's Murphy's mantra, and hitting coach Al LeBoeuf's, too.

Contreras and Yelich kept the inning alive, and they created a big chance. The question of how to cash it in, however, remained. Next up was Andrew Vaughn, batting fifth in the team's righty-prioritized lineup against lefty starters. Vaughn has hung in admirably since the end of his extraordinary hot streak in July and early August, but since the end of the team's 14-game winning streak in mid-August, he was in a deep power drought. In the last 129 plate appearances of his regular season, Vaughn had 12 walks and just 19 strikeouts, but he also only had nine extra-base hits—all doubles. Overall, he batted .286/.357/.366 in that stretch, getting on base at a solid rate but producing shockingly little power for a first baseman.

Eventually, it becomes someone's job to turn a burbling possibility of runs into the real thing. The Brewers have excelled at that since they hit their stride this year, leading the league in crooked numbers (innings in which they scored at least three runs) despite a below-average number of home runs. In their first eight games, they only scored three or more runs in a frame once. In their first 43, they only had 22 such innings. Since then, though, they have an eye-popping 84 turns at bat that have resulted in three or more tallies, in 121 games. If you're scoring at least three runs in one turn more than twice every three games, you're as dangerous an offense as there is.

Again, Vaughn largely hasn't been part of all that danger. His power-starved profile from the final six weeks doesn't exactly suit a starting first baseman, let alone a middle-of-the-order slugger at that offense-first spot. However, Vaughn cut the plate in half this time around, and Imanaga would end up being forced to play into his hands. 

The numbered dots above show the pitches and the sequence with which Imanaga tried to get Vaughn out to escape the first inning. After teasing him with a splitter away (one Vaughn only would have rolled over and grounded out on, but happily, he knew that), Imanaga crowded the big righty with fastballs high and tight. He showed him the sweeper down and in, but it was too far down and too far in for him to do anything with it. What Vaughn did manage to do was work the count full, and then foul off the fastball Imanaga tucked just onto the inside corner. The lefty had shown him everything, and tried a couple of things that were meant to get him out, but Vaughn forced things all the way to a two-out payoff pitch. The runners were in motion. The pitch had to be close, or Vaughn would take a walk. Imanaga doesn't trust that splitter away to go where he needs it to; it was always going to be the sweeper coming in on him to break the stalemate.

The non-numbered, magenta-colored dots superimposed onto Vaughn's at-bat against Imanaga are the locations of every pitch against which he homered this year. Remember, he hadn't done that at all since August 15, but as you can see, he also did it mostly when pitchers made ghastly mistakes over the heart of the plate. It wasn't so Monday, though. Vaughn got a sweeper that stayed about belt-high, and because he'd been ready, Vaughn got well around the ball and caught it out in front. The result was a high, arcing fly, but as long as it stayed fair, it was always going to be gone—and it stayed fair by plenty.

The funniest part of that pitch and that swing was that Imanaga practically asked for what he got. Yes, the ball missed the zone, and perhaps a jamshot was a possibility if he caught Vaughn looking for something out over the dish, but the truth is that Vaughn's swing is fastest (and therefore, he's the most dangerous) right in that zone. Some hitters' swings accelerate most when they can get their arms extended on a ball, but Vaughn finds most of his torque in front of his own body, on swings where the barrel gets around the ball and catches it out front. That's precisely what he did on the answering three-run blast.

Somewhat inexplicably, Craig Counsell failed to adjust to what he was seeing. The Brewers had plans for Imanaga and no intention of letting them go to waste, but Counsell only saw that they were swinging and missing fairly often (he talked that up during a mid-game interview), rather than grasping that swinging and missing when guessing wrong was part of their plan—and that they'd continue to square the ball up relentlessly if Imanaga stayed in. Contreras got the telling second look at him. Knowing he'd beaten Imanaga on an inside sweeper in the first, Contreras knew he'd face splitters away and heaters in this time around. He geared up for the latter on 1-1, and got it. The result was another no-doubt homer, and the Brewers seized the lead.

After that, thanks to the Brewers bullpen and its overwhelming performance, there was to be little drama left in the game—but it helped a lot to have more than a one-run margin for the back half of the contest. That cushion came courtesy of a second three-run Brewers onslaught, which began with a Caleb Durbin plunking. As we've discussed very recently, that's entirely a part of Durbin's game, and very much part of his own specific plan at the plate. On a high-and-tight fastball, he simply didn't get out of the way, and the Brewers had a baserunner.

One batter later, with two outs, Joey Ortiz took his turn helping spawn runs. Sitting fastball against Daniel Palencia (against whom you can always sit fastball; he's hopelessly predictable), Ortiz flicked a ball cleanly into center field. It never had any chance to be anything more than a single, but nor did it have much chance to be anything less. It, too, had an .870 expected batting average.

That brought up Chourio again, for the third time in the fourth frame. The Brewers do that; they get early turns through the lineup and force you into your bullpen. They get more batters up to the plate than you were prepared to deal with over any specified number of outs, and that puts you in scramble mode. The Cubs, of course, had been there for a while by the time Chourio took his place against Palencia. Palencia had been out there a while. He found plenty of velocity in his showdown with Chourio; all three fastballs he threw him were at least 100.5 miles per hour. In fact, the third one was 101.4. Alas, it doesn't matter much what you throw, if you throw it three times in a row here.

Hitting is specific all the time. When it's against a crafty pitcher with an arsenal they cleverly use to paper the whole strike zone, it's about eliminating options and zeroing in on the one that will be productive. When it's against a guy who throws 101 but doesn't do much else or move the ball around much, it's about the specific changes one must make to the normal timing and shape of a swing to catch up to that hard a pitch. While they didn't exactly place the ball, Contreras (the first time), Yelich and Frelick had specific pitches in their sights, and they had specific places they knew they could hit those pitches without the usual difficulty of handling big-league stuff. Chourio wasn't doing that. Instead of eliminating excess possibilities, he was eliminating excess time and space. He didn't have to worry about anything else; he knew what pitch was coming. He didn't have to shape a swing to dump that pitch in a particular place; he just had to get moving very fast, on time. He did so, and the rest is history.

It will be, along with the other homers hit Monday night and a fistful of highlights generated by pitchers and batters alike over the last two games, one of the great memories Brewers fans hold onto for years to come. That was the moment the Brewers put the Cubs in their rearview mirror for 2025. They still have one more game to win, and they'll take it one pitch (and one thing they know they can do with it) at a time. Now, though, it's time for someone to start formulating those specific plans for Dodgers pitchers and the NLCS.

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[sveumrules]

Was surprised by the pitch selection to Chourio after he was down 0-2. Thought for sure that Palencia would at least waste a couple sliders trying to get Jackson chasing before coming back anywhere near the strike zone.

[Matthew Trueblood]

2 hours ago, sveumrules said:

Was surprised by the pitch selection to Chourio after he was down 0-2. Thought for sure that Palencia would at least waste a couple sliders trying to get Jackson chasing before coming back anywhere near the strike zone.

Palencia throws fastballs in two-strike counts more often than all but three other pitchers in baseball—over 70% of the time. Just doesn't trust his secondary stuff at all. Chourio knew what to be ready for, and made him pay.

[MattK]

10 minutes ago, Matthew Trueblood said:

Palencia throws fastballs in two-strike counts more often than all but three other pitchers in baseball—over 70% of the time. Just doesn't trust his secondary stuff at all. Chourio knew what to be ready for, and made him pay.

Great breakdown, Matthew.  Thank you!

[GasserFace]

How hard is it to square up 101 and send it 420 feet?  I think I saw a stat earlier this year that BAA and OPS against 100+ pitches was sub .200 BA / sub .500 OPS.

That is just an absolute stud hitter beating a stud pitcher.  I'm glad we have that guy on our side for the foreseeable future.

[GasserFace]

Matt,

That was a tremendous breakdown of what happened last night, and how the Brewers are just smarter and better prepared than the Cubs.

For Vaughn to trust that a sweeper inside is coming right there, takes a ton of homework by the front office, coaches and the player.  Same with Wild Bill and just sitting fastball there.  Hopefully, they have a better plan against the new version of Taillon and his kick-change.  

This team is dangerous.  I like their chances against any team that they run across.

[BarremlensTSSC]

I don't really have anything intelligent to add but imo this is very helpful analysis for casuals like myself.  Pleasure to read too. 

[Sugarrayray]

What a masterfully done analysis. Where else can you go to get an expertly crafted treatise on how to kick the Cubs ass?