HPU Mike Winters beckons Adam to the batters box. Reeling, Adam obliges, and faces the mysterious Doctor Fausto.
The thick-elf Beckham has poked himself a double; sage Juan Pierre hovers at third. THE STAGE IS SET.
Adam Dunn squints at the weak Cleveland sun. He is still groggy from his transformation; a strike sneaks past him. So too do three balls, and a second strike. Is Adam asleep out there?
Adam! Awaken ye to baseball!
Too late! He swung at a little stinker outside. Opening K!
Showing posts with label strikeout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strikeout. Show all posts
Friday, April 1, 2011
Thursday, April 22, 2010
65th Plate Appearance
Ubaldo's still in charge, and he has deemed that the Nationals will score no runs today. The man is not known for mercy.
His fellow Ionians, sensing the weakness of grief in Washington's hero, employ the shift.
After a stinky sinky breaking ball, Adam fouls off a fast one, high into the air, toward the third base line seats. Plummeting from a great height, the ball strikes a beautiful woman in the shoulder. She cries out in pain.
Once again, sentiment has been banished. Adam, ensconced in his box, takes no notice.
He fouls off two more, and then Ubaldo feeds some cheese to the inside corner. Adam is returned to the mundane world. He backs out of the box and his great heart breaks.
His fellow Ionians, sensing the weakness of grief in Washington's hero, employ the shift.
After a stinky sinky breaking ball, Adam fouls off a fast one, high into the air, toward the third base line seats. Plummeting from a great height, the ball strikes a beautiful woman in the shoulder. She cries out in pain.
Once again, sentiment has been banished. Adam, ensconced in his box, takes no notice.
He fouls off two more, and then Ubaldo feeds some cheese to the inside corner. Adam is returned to the mundane world. He backs out of the box and his great heart breaks.
64th Plate Appearance
Ubaldo and his high socks stand tall on the mound, awaiting Adam's return to the arena.
Adam takes a deep sigh. Sentiment is therewise banished from his rectangular domain. Adam is fully, actively, gum-smackingly in the moment.
Ubaldo's 97-mph pirahnas nibble the inside of the zone, inducing by a thousand bites a 2-2 count. As he sets his feet, Adam swings THB low at the knees. He's ready to cook some fish.
Ubaldo sends a slider down the stream. And yea, though Adam's momentous chop could cleave the waters, it cannot hack this slider.
Adam takes a deep sigh. Sentiment is therewise banished from his rectangular domain. Adam is fully, actively, gum-smackingly in the moment.
Ubaldo's 97-mph pirahnas nibble the inside of the zone, inducing by a thousand bites a 2-2 count. As he sets his feet, Adam swings THB low at the knees. He's ready to cook some fish.
Ubaldo sends a slider down the stream. And yea, though Adam's momentous chop could cleave the waters, it cannot hack this slider.
63rd Plate Appearance
The injury to Little Zimmy hangs heavy over the clubhouse. Manager Jim Riggleman has spent the intervening night crying and tearing at his hair. Adam came to the clubhouse at 6:30 this morning (his usual arrival time) to find Riggleman slumped in the locker-room corner, weakly gnashing his teeth and beating his breast.
Adam has lifted the man to his duty, but still the lineup card Riggleman has handed to HPU Paul Edmonds is a patchy and torn fig leaf for the utter nakedness that Zimmy's absence has caused. Alberto Gonzalez is at third; Ian Desmond is at short; and loyal Cris Cringle, Zimmy's best friend in the middle infield, has been sent away to right field.
Amongst this sorry scene, Adam comes to fight. It is the bottom of the first. On the mound is the freshest initiate to the no-hit-Immortals, Ubaldo Jimenez.
The first speedy stinky goes far outside. Adam read it and forgot about it as soon as it left Ubaldo's hand. That's how sharp his eye is today.
Some breaking balls come Adam's way, and then a pair of heaters--one that even the staid Nationals Park radar gun must admit cracked three digits--batter Thunderhammerbat into splinters.
The pain of this added loss clouds Adam's clear eyes. Another THB is forthcoming, but some things are irreplaceable. Before he can blink away the resurgent memory of Zimmy's stretched hamstring, he sees another heater coming. Sees it imperfectly. The swing, at least, is beautiful.
Adam has lifted the man to his duty, but still the lineup card Riggleman has handed to HPU Paul Edmonds is a patchy and torn fig leaf for the utter nakedness that Zimmy's absence has caused. Alberto Gonzalez is at third; Ian Desmond is at short; and loyal Cris Cringle, Zimmy's best friend in the middle infield, has been sent away to right field.
Amongst this sorry scene, Adam comes to fight. It is the bottom of the first. On the mound is the freshest initiate to the no-hit-Immortals, Ubaldo Jimenez.
The first speedy stinky goes far outside. Adam read it and forgot about it as soon as it left Ubaldo's hand. That's how sharp his eye is today.
Some breaking balls come Adam's way, and then a pair of heaters--one that even the staid Nationals Park radar gun must admit cracked three digits--batter Thunderhammerbat into splinters.
The pain of this added loss clouds Adam's clear eyes. Another THB is forthcoming, but some things are irreplaceable. Before he can blink away the resurgent memory of Zimmy's stretched hamstring, he sees another heater coming. Sees it imperfectly. The swing, at least, is beautiful.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
57th Plate Appearance
Little Zimmy and Cris Cristofferson are on first and second, and Adam has a lot to think about as he watches the first pitch go by. He watches the second go by, too, both of them strikes. Who is this bozo on the mound?
Matt Belisle is his name, and next he sends a 95mphrpm BUZZSAW inside. Adam's bat is broken! He fouls the saw blade away, to land safely where it threatens no bystanders. Bat Boy Kevin brings another Thunderhammerbat.
Adam swings and misses with a fresh bat. Looks like tonight bozo is spelled with a K.
Matt Belisle is his name, and next he sends a 95mphrpm BUZZSAW inside. Adam's bat is broken! He fouls the saw blade away, to land safely where it threatens no bystanders. Bat Boy Kevin brings another Thunderhammerbat.
Adam swings and misses with a fresh bat. Looks like tonight bozo is spelled with a K.
55th Plate Appearance
Little Zimmy just drove Washingtonians mad with a whack-tastickal dub against the left field fence. He and Cris Guzmnan are on second and third as Adam "motors" up to the plate.
Feeling out the situation, Adam watches the first two pitches, and swings mighty at the third. A miss.
de la Rosa starts throwing the nasty stuff, fast and breaking hard. Adam fouls off two, and two more seem to have crossed the plate, but home plate umpire Bruce Dreckman disagrees. Adam's mere presence seems to have shrunken the strike zone.
de la Rosa, visibly shaken, calls a hasty conference on the mound. Catcher Miguel Olivo obliges. So too does the nefarious second baseman Melvin Mora, who whispers something foul and brilliant into de la Rosa's ear.
It's the killing stroke. A slow-moving breaking ball waltzes its way to the plate. Adam, expecting more heat, crushes the fastball that didn't come.
Feeling out the situation, Adam watches the first two pitches, and swings mighty at the third. A miss.
de la Rosa starts throwing the nasty stuff, fast and breaking hard. Adam fouls off two, and two more seem to have crossed the plate, but home plate umpire Bruce Dreckman disagrees. Adam's mere presence seems to have shrunken the strike zone.
de la Rosa, visibly shaken, calls a hasty conference on the mound. Catcher Miguel Olivo obliges. So too does the nefarious second baseman Melvin Mora, who whispers something foul and brilliant into de la Rosa's ear.
It's the killing stroke. A slow-moving breaking ball waltzes its way to the plate. Adam, expecting more heat, crushes the fastball that didn't come.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
45th Plate Appearance
The Five Hundred Faithful are out at Nationals Park, and the big man is hungry. He went 0 for 4 yesterday; worse, it's been four days since he last drew a walk. So it's with a certain ache for first base that Adam comes to the plate in the inaugural inning.
The stars are aligned for a vintage Dunn walk. Doug Davis is pitching for the Brewers; he led the majors in walks last year, at least on the pitching side. We all know who led batters.
It was Adrian Gonzalez. Adam Dunn placed second.
Ryan Zimmerman, feeling the heat of Dunn's desire, desperately pushes a single into center to keep a two-out inning alive.
First pitch to Adam comes right down the pike. Strike one. The second pitch takes its time curving out and away, traveling at an extremely watchable seventy miles per hour. Pitch three sails even further outside. Adam steps out, steps in. He steps out again. Maybe he needs to calm his laughter at how badly Davis is missing the zone.
The next two pitches are low, and home plate umpire Mike Everitt goes dutch with Davis. A ball and a strike to make the count full. Adam's favorite kind of count.
Adam decides to take a mighty swing at the payoff, and he gives it a brisk cooling breeeze as it sinks into the catcher's mitt.
As the fielders trot back into the dugout, Adam raises his bat in his hands, briefly considering breaking it over his knee.
No, this one's not worth it. Adam accepts the strikeout.
The stars are aligned for a vintage Dunn walk. Doug Davis is pitching for the Brewers; he led the majors in walks last year, at least on the pitching side. We all know who led batters.
It was Adrian Gonzalez. Adam Dunn placed second.
Ryan Zimmerman, feeling the heat of Dunn's desire, desperately pushes a single into center to keep a two-out inning alive.
First pitch to Adam comes right down the pike. Strike one. The second pitch takes its time curving out and away, traveling at an extremely watchable seventy miles per hour. Pitch three sails even further outside. Adam steps out, steps in. He steps out again. Maybe he needs to calm his laughter at how badly Davis is missing the zone.
The next two pitches are low, and home plate umpire Mike Everitt goes dutch with Davis. A ball and a strike to make the count full. Adam's favorite kind of count.
Adam decides to take a mighty swing at the payoff, and he gives it a brisk cooling breeeze as it sinks into the catcher's mitt.
As the fielders trot back into the dugout, Adam raises his bat in his hands, briefly considering breaking it over his knee.
No, this one's not worth it. Adam accepts the strikeout.
Friday, April 16, 2010
40th plate appearance
It's overcast. 80 degrees at game start. It is Fireworks Night at Nationals Park, and it appears that approximately 500 faithful Nationals fans have taken the team up on the offer to come out tonight. A stiff wind has started to blow in over the outfield, and it ripples Adam's shirt as he steps in to the box. Rain threatens.
Cristian Guzman, who just poked a two-out single into right, takes a few steps off first. Yovani Gallardo shows no outward concern for a steal. He pitches a called strike to Adam. Adam steps out, spits.
The second pitch, another strike, and the third, high and away, Adam carefully watches speed by into Gregg Zaun's glove.
The fourth comes, and Adam watches it sink out of the zone. The fifth pitch dips into the dirt, and Adam gives his bat its first forward motion--a checked swing, and a full count for Adam.
The payoff pitch comes, and Adam checks another swing at another sinking pitch. With a neat little twirl, he tosses his bat to the ground and starts his familiar trot to first.
Andy Fletcher, third base umpire, however, rules on the appeal. "Adam went," his clenched fist says.
Adam can't believe it. Already halfway toward his beloved first base, he takes off his helmet and throws it to the ground; obscenity is palpable in the air as he strenuously contests the call.
Adam is ejected from the game.
Cristian Guzman, who just poked a two-out single into right, takes a few steps off first. Yovani Gallardo shows no outward concern for a steal. He pitches a called strike to Adam. Adam steps out, spits.
The second pitch, another strike, and the third, high and away, Adam carefully watches speed by into Gregg Zaun's glove.
The fourth comes, and Adam watches it sink out of the zone. The fifth pitch dips into the dirt, and Adam gives his bat its first forward motion--a checked swing, and a full count for Adam.
The payoff pitch comes, and Adam checks another swing at another sinking pitch. With a neat little twirl, he tosses his bat to the ground and starts his familiar trot to first.
Andy Fletcher, third base umpire, however, rules on the appeal. "Adam went," his clenched fist says.
Adam can't believe it. Already halfway toward his beloved first base, he takes off his helmet and throws it to the ground; obscenity is palpable in the air as he strenuously contests the call.
Adam is ejected from the game.
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