Grading Curves in Grad School: Brewers Win Game 1 of World Series with Tougher Questions Than Rays Can Answer

[Matthew Trueblood]

No one seems satisfied with Jacob Misiorowski's work. Throughout his start in Game 1 of the World Series, FOX broadcast team Joe Davis and John Smoltz repeatedly lamented that they weren't seeing the dominant version of the presumptive National League Cy Young Award winner. Smoltz started speculating that Misiorowski might not be long for the game in the third inning. On social media, there was nervousness and hand-wringing, as fans watched the Rays spoil several two-strike pitches and consistently touch a fastball that was sometimes untouchable this year. Tampa batters fouled off 14 of the 25 heaters at which they swung, and they put six more in play—half of those being hit hard. The number everyone had been watching was Misiorowski's induced vertical break, and that number got back to his seasonal average. His velocity (he sat at 101 miles per hour and touched 104) was a hair better than usual. Yet, he didn't overpower the Rays. People were concerned.

In the end, though, there was no reason to be. Misiorowski only allowed one run, and it came on the heels of a misread by Garrett Mitchell on a Junior Caminero line drive. That ball was blistered, but Mitchell should have caught it, and if he had, Misiorowski would have gotten through the fifth inning with fewer than 75 pitches and no runs allowed. As it was, he left with 78 pitches after five, having allowed five baserunners and struck out three. No, he's not in midseason form, and yes, there's been a real adjustment by the whole league to prepare for and time up that historic heater. If truth be told, though, the Rays not only didn't bang him, but didn't come especially close to doing so.

That's a fair encapsulation of the whole night, in a sense. For the first time in the lifetimes of most millennials, Milwaukee was the center of the baseball universe, and when you earn that bright a spotlight, some flaws you barely knew were there show up. It's an unforgiving grading curve. Strong performances will be cast as barely sufficient, because they are; you're playing the toughest games of your life. You don't even have to make a big mistake, much of the time, to pay a heavy price.

Fans, broadcasters and even former players expect perfection from the teams who earn the right to play on the sport's grandest stage, but the truth is that the quality of the two teams creates mutual pressure and mutual difficulty. Far from perfect, games can often seem sloppy, even when they aren't. Be it via careful preparation, prodigious talent or an unexpected bit of luck, teams end up challenging each other to do things they usually don't, or to do things they usually do at a higher level than ever. The inevitable result of that raised standard is the odd moment when it can't be met, and those can be the moments that decide games.

There will be moments when the standard can't be met on both sides, though. You can win while making a key mistake or two, forced or not. The keys are to force more mistakes than you make; to stay poised in the wake of the hiccups, both individually and collectively; and to occasionally do something special—to clear a bar set higher than you've ever cleared before. While some warts showed up in Game 1, the Brewers won because they managed all of the above a bit better than the Rays did. Here are five moments that tipped the scales.

Christian Yelich and the Wasted Sinker

When it comes to control and execution, Nick Martinez is scary-good. The 36-year-old veteran and semi-surprise Game 1 starter for Tampa had a 3.10 ERA this season, and it's not because his stuff is off the charts. On the contrary, unlike Misiorowski, Martinez is below-average at missing bats. He's also not an elite ground-ball guy. He survives by getting help from his defense, but he also thrives because he doesn't depend on that help; he makes his own luck. With superb control, he always works ahead in counts, which gives him the opportunity to start carving edges and forcing hitters (even if they put the ball in play, as they usually do) to make weak or harmless contact.

The Brewers take an aggressive tack when they face pitchers like that. They swear they don't ever go into a game planning to be more aggressive in the early going, and the data backs them up. Here's a histogram showing the frequency of various swing rates for the team over the first two innings of games this season, including October. Its normality suggests, more or less, randomness.

However, the three times they faced Tarik Skubal this season can all be found in the righthand tail of that distribution. Ditto for their showdown with Joe Ryan of the Twins in mid-May. Game 1 of the World Series is over there, too. Against pitchers they know will fill up the zone, the Brewers offense starts with a plan not to let them steal strikes. So it was that Jackson Chourio singled on the first pitch Martinez threw. One batter later, Christian Yelich stepped to the plate.

Martinez wasn't going to get hurt on the first pitch again, but nor did he want to fall behind Yelich. He executed two consecutive pitches as well as even Martinez can do it: a backdoor slider for a called strike one, then a four-seam heater above the zone that Yelich chased for strike two. On the first 0-2 offering, he tried to punch Yelich out with a changeup running to the outer edge, but Yelich spoiled it.

That was no problem for Martinez, though. In fact, it set up his next idea perfectly. Martinez made a habit of throwing front-door sinkers to lefty batters in two-strike counts this year, especially when ahead 0-2 or 1-2. In a perfect world, that pitch (he throws it high, more a two-seamer than a true sinker, so calling it a front-hip offering isn't quite right; it's more like a threat to your ribcage) zips back over the edge as a batter freezes and raises their hands, for a called third strike. Even if he gets a swing, though, he'll often jam the batter. If he has the hitter looking away (as he surely did after throwing Yelich that changeup), he doesn't have to be perfect to get a very good result.

That was the pitch Martinez and Liam Hicks next tried, but this time, Martinez's signature command faltered. In fact, he threw Yelich a meatball. 

If the next pitch had gone differently, we might remember this as a crucial mistake by Yelich, more than by Martinez. That pitch was very hittable, but Yelich could only foul it off. The previous three pitches in the sequence (and the 0-2 count) explain why he was caught in a defensive mode, but that was a missed opportunity.

For the Rays, though, it was something worse: a wasted offering. If Martinez hits his spot with the pitch, even if Yelich fouls it off, he's set up for a variety of things thereafter. Another changeup is very much a possibility. Another four-seamer above the zone is on the menu. Because of that ugly miss, though, Yelich was back in the at-bat, even after missing a cookie. He had the plate covered and the timing right. Thus, Martinez and Hicks had to try a pitch that would require perfect execution again: a cutter, down and in. Again, Martinez missed, because even an elite zone-filler sometimes does that. This time, Yelich was ready.

Yelich posed a very tough challenge to Martinez: he forced him to be perfect. When Martinez faltered, the Brewers' captain capitalized.

Garrett Mitchell and the Freeze

The top of the fourth inning could have been disastrous. It could have been when the Brewers lost Game 1. Instead, it might be when they won it. Jonathan Aranda singled to lead off the frame against Misiorowski. The Brewers' ace then struck out Chandler Simpson—no easy thing to do, and an easy thing to forget which we ought not to. Simpson struck out in only 7.8% of his plate appearances this year, the second-lowest rate in the league. He gets started early and is on time for the fastball more consistently than any hitter in the league, and his bat is in the hitting zone a long time. Because he has very little bat speed, though, Simpson has to commit earlier than most hitters to keep up with the heat. After pumping the top arm-side corner of the zone for a while to set him up, Misiorowski found a punchout by throwing Simpson a curveball that even he couldn't wait back long enough on, and which he was never going to be able to avoid swinging at. 

Trouble stirred right back up thereafter, though. Misiorowski threw Caminero a fastball with plenty of velocity (101.5 MPH), but with way too much zone around it on all sides. Caminero hit a rocket, and Mitchell simply couldn't get going back quickly enough to spear the liner.

As many outfielders now do, Mitchell hops like an infielder as the ball passes through the hitting zone, giving himself a more dynamic starting position and the ability to get moving faster (in most directlons) toward the ball. On balance, this is a valuable bit of defensive craft. The Brewers certainly believe in it. However, there are two drawbacks to it:

1. Outfielders are farther from the play than infielders, and it's often harder for them to perfectly time their bounce to be coming down as the ball passes through the hitting zone and contact is made. That problem is exacerbated, of course, with a pitcher like Misiorowski on the mound. Between his extension down the mound and that extraordinary velocity, it's easy to end up ever-so-slightly late in getting ready to move.
2. The one direction this move doesn't allow an outfielder to move as well is straight back. For infielders, this isn't a problem. Any ball on which a second baseman or shortstop needs to go straight back will have plenty of air under it; you can turn and run underneath it as it drops. Not so for a center fielder. Caminero hit this ball 113 MPH at a launch angle of just 13°. Mitchell would have needed to make a fast read, turn the right way and start backward immediately to flag the ball down. If a fielder is working from a standard outfield setup, that's doable. The ball didn't pass all that far over his starting position, because it was hit so low. The way Mitchell moves pre-pitch, though, it became impossible.

By no means is that an easy play, but it's makeable, and it went unmade. It's a perfect example of the unforgiving nature of playing in the World Series. The incredible talent of Mitchell's own teammate made his job harder. So did the top-of-the-scale bat speed of Caminero, producing a batted ball you hardly ever see. This is the master's-level course, all right.

To Misiorowski's immense credit, though, he locked back in and minimized the damage. William Contreras deserves some credit, too. Seeing the mistake his hurler had just made with a four-seamer, he called nothing but cutters the rest of the frame. Hicks grounded out, Johnny DeLuca flied out, and only one run came home. It could so easily have become two, if the Brewers' battery hadn't recovered so well from the shock of that ball getting over Mitchell's head.

David Hamilton vs. Ben Williamson

The fifth inning might most be remembered for William Contreras throwing out Victor Mesa Jr. to end the top of the frame, with the Rays outfielder ill-advisedly trying to steal third base with two outs. However, two other plays better exemplified how tricky and dangerous World Series baseball is.

Under the surface, real trouble burbled in that top half of the fifth. Ben Williamson came to the plate with a runner on and nobody out. Misiorowski got ahead 0-2, but when he tried to put Williamson away with a rare slider, he left it up and over the middle of the plate. Luckily, Williamson was hunting the four-seamer or cutter, so he hit the top of the ball, even at the top of the zone. That created a wild, high bouncing ball, though, and it could easily have been an infield single, or worse.

Williamson rarely hits grounders down the third-base line. Misiorowski's velocity, the chance for a double play and Williamson's scouting report had the Brewers infield playing him a step toward the middle of the diamond.

That forced David Hamilton to cover significant ground as the ball soared high and floated over third base. He did so, and he made a strong throw on the run. Good thing, too, because Williamson can move and got a good break out of the box. Hamilton's throw still had him beaten by plenty, but it was a long-hop peg that carried Jake Bauers across the base and behind the baseline. It required, therefore, a second great play in one: Bauers moving fluidly and stabbing the ball, holding the bag for the out.

That, as much as Contreras's great throw (and Hamilton's sure-handed tag), got the Brewers out of the fifth and helped Misiorowski qualify for the win. Then, in the bottom of the inning, Hamilton nearly broke the game open offensively. He lined a ball into the right-field corner and had a sure triple. Unfortunately, he got the feet wrong. This is one of those things that happens when you're playing under unusual conditions and there's extra adrenaline coursing through you. Routes get a little less clean. You slightly rush something, and then you rush your efforts to compensate for it.

Hamilton took a hair too long to bend his run toward second base, so when he did, he cut a bit too sharply and aimed for too fine a piece of the inside corner of the base. At the last moment, he realized his left foot wouldn't find the bag, so he shortened his stride and tagged second with his right foot, instead. The necessary stutter-step threw off his balance very slightly, which slowed him down for a moment's moment.

Afterward, some criticized Hamilton's choice to keep going. Shortstop Taylor Walls wasn't covering second, and the throw was still coming in from the corner to the relay man, Williamson, when the slight stumble happened. He could have retreated. If you watch the play without hindsight bias, though, it's almost impossible to argue he should have.

There was one out in the inning already. If Hamilton makes third there, he can score without a hit, and with his speed, that means an especially wide number of possibilities. He's also the fastest Brewer (and one of the fastest players in the league), so he had every reason to feel confident in his ability to recover and get to his destination. He even would have, if not for a truly perfect relay peg from Williamson. It was sweet revenge for the Rays second baseman, but not a blunder by Hamilton. This is the high hum of a machine working perfectly; it's the best sound in the world. Hamilton's speed put pressure on the defense. The defenders executed a flawless relay. Everyone made the right decisions. Only a very slight misstep prevented Hamilton from making third; only the perfection of his opponents made that misstep matter. That's the World Series, for you.

The Brewers Are Truly Built Different

The lead always belonged to Milwaukee, and they felt like the better team. The game was miles from being decided when the seventh-inning stretch came, though. Milwaukee still only led by one run, and the Rays had already proved that they do enough things well to hang with the best team in baseball. It was time, therefore, for the Brewers to remind their guests why they deserve that honorific.

Cooper Pratt is as much a rookie as exists in late October. He debuted barely four months ago. He's only 21 years old. He hits at the bottom of the order, and given the strength of this lineup, that's only right. However, there have been times this fall when he's looked like an unflappable (even impeccable) veteran. One such moment changed the game for good, leading off the bottom of the seventh. 

Steven Matz jumped ahead of Pratt with a first-pitch strike. He got ahead 1-2 with a changeup that was perfectly placed, and on 2-2, he tested him with two straight high sinkers in the zone that tested whether Pratt trusted himself enough to be on time for high heat. He passed both tests by fouling off the pitches, then took two more that missed down. It was an eight-pitch walk. Not as glamorous as Jake Bauers's in the NLCS, maybe, but it would prove just as important.

Two batters later, the good news was that Pratt was in scoring position. Hamilton (him again) hit a ground ball that moved him to second base. The bad news, though, was just as urgent: there were two outs. Chourio was up again. Chourio would swing at the first pitch again. Chourio, again, came through.

That sequence—a hard-worked walk from behind in the count; a productive out; an ambush hit to score a run—is the Brewers in a nutshell. They're slow, until they're fast. They're dangerous in more ways than an opponent can handle. The Rays didn't do much wrong in that whole inning. They didn't make a telling mistake. The Brewers just beat them.

Trevor Megill and the Head-Clearing

It was all set up, and then it could all have gotten away, and almost did. Trevor Megill was off his game. He entered with a two-run lead and got the first batter out, but then, he found himself in near-instant danger. The genius of the Rays batters laid in not overswinging against a hard-throwing pitcher who would exploit any overeagerness. Jonathan Aranda swung the bat at just 63.9 MPH to flick a high fastball the other way for a single. Simpson swung it at just 57 MPH to scoop a curveball out of the dirt and find grass up the middle. That's peskiness. That's a team offering a snorting, stomping, high-octane hurler a stern test. Megill wobbled a bit in the face of it, too. Caminero stepped in as the go-ahead run, and Megill walked him. Just like that, a single could tie the game, and an extra-base hit would flip the scoreboard.

What flipped, instead, was a switch inside Megill. He got a first-pitch ground ball from Hicks that almost ended the game. Newly minted Fielding Bible Award winner Brice Turang turned a sharp ground ball well to his left into a near-double play. Turang is the master of the quick pick and turn, showing his back to home plate as he whirls to take down the lead runner on a play on which many second basemen would take the sure out. In fact, if Hicks hitting the ball there for a potential twin-killing in a pivotal late-inning situation looked familiar, it ought to have. It happened in July, too.

The ball Hicks hit Friday night was much firmer, and the Brewers had more time. Turang wasn't quite as smooth with the throw to Pratt covering second, though, and although it wasn't initially called that way, the young shortstop gave up the bag a hair too soon as he stretched for the throw. Little things. Little, tiny things, on this big stage.

The whiplash of that moment—the fireworks going, the postgame set rolling onto the field, then the sudden quite and the long wait of a review that (rightfully) forced everyone back to their places—could have done in Megill. Instead, he used that time to reset. He hadn't pitched well to that point, but nor had he pitched so poorly, after all. The Rays were perfect pests. They were clever. They were also a little lucky, and then he'd gotten into his head while walking Caminero. Time to clear all of that. Time to breathe deep, prepare for the battle, and win it.

He still missed, high, with two fastballs out of his first three pitches to DeLuca, but they were purposeful misses. He was back to firing with conviction. When, on 2-1, he caught the edge with a curveball that DeLuca was utterly unready for, it was all but over. The next pitch was in the dirt, but it wasn't non-competitive, as the tries Megill had made at that pitch against Caminero had been. DeLuca went fishing; the Brewers reeled in a win.

This whole postseason has been a lesson in the enormous difficulty and fragile excellence of baseball played at this level. The Brewers have made plenty of mistakes, because this is a game where mistakes are unavoidable. They've made fewer than their opponents, though, or capitalized better on their opponents' than their opponents have on theirs. It's been a breathtaking display of the beauty of greatness, even amid (and perhaps because of) imperfection. The Brewers are just three wins from their first World Series championship. The Rays will make them earn those three wins, and there will be more times when something doesn't look quite right. That's not a sign of lousy work being done; it's a testament to the degree of difficulty.

Image courtesy of Michael McLoone-Imagn Images

View full article

[MattK]

Thank you, Matthew!  That was excellent. 

[gregmag]

Another fantastic article.