.

Amigos fuss and fret about "The Zone," or flow, or rhythm, or whatever the phrase du jour is.  It's not as hard as we make it.  You want to know how to slow the game down?

Picture a one-on-one game of basketball with your kid brother.  You see things nice and early, right?  Whoop, there goes a 50-50 ball down the driveway ... who's going to get it?  You can tell at the speed of light whose ball it's going to be.  Yours?  An easy little step over his path and shoulder into him, scoop the ball up lefty and whirl into your offense.

Or:  this one is going to be his ball?  You smile and saunter to the perfect position for defense.  Your movements and light and easy, your efficiency total.  There is no fear of failure involved.  That is always true with The Zone:  you are enjoying the game, and there is little to no fear present to distract you.

.......

On the other hand:  you step into a game with a stranger at the YMCA, and he uses a crossover dribble to embarrass you for the first hoop.

Much different.  Now, as you set for your next defensive play, you are thinking "I can't allow the crossover.  Waitaminnit.  Can I stop it?"  I don't think we need to prolong this example.

Felix, when he takes the mound, has seen it all.  He is pitching against his kid brother, as it were.  His brother might get lucky and hit a couple of wild shots, but even if the kid wins once in a while, he's still your kid brother.  There comes a point when any pitcher (or quarterback, or point guard) arrives at this place.

........

The Cubs, on Wednesday, were the opposite of this.  As the game went on they took wilder swings.  A bit of alarm crept into their eyes.  

Taijuan might throw exactly the same pitch in the 1st and 5th innings:  in the 1st, the ball is fouled off or put in play; in the 5th inning it draws a wild, in-between swing.  "I can't allow this high fastball to beat me."  Whoops, that was too high; I shouldn'a swung."

The Cubs were taking vaguely defensive swings the first time around; they were taking completely defensive swings the second time around.  Walker didn't strike everybody out.  He missed over the plate a fair bit.  But only three balls were hit hard in 90 minutes, the one Cruz tracked back, the sharp groundout to Seager and the second hit.

Others have referred to the "Justin Verlander Effect."  As the game goes on, he's into your head.  As a completely separate issue, he's throwing harder in the 6th.  As a completely separate issue, the batters are conditioned to expect less velocity in the 6th.

"Get him early, or don't get him at all."  You see what they are saying.

........

As a completely separate issue to that:  Taijuan is (they'll all tell you) an alarming-LOOKING presence on the mound.  As Michael Pineda was.  Big huge guy, big huge hands, tons of spin, hurry up and get in there.  If you don't want to be HBP, get out of the way.

Sabermetricians might tell you that no one is afraid out there.  Hey, they are all quintuple-filtered against that, right?

Sabes might tell you that, but biologists will tell you that fear is an involuntary reaction.  One does not choose whether to be scared.  If a truck comes at you, hormones will flood your veins at scientifically-inexplicable speed (yes, really) and you will jump out of the way.  You won't think about it.  

If a big mean guy stands glaring at you from 18 yards away with a lethal (yes, really) missile in his hand and --- > intends to embarrass you, then --- > your reptilian brain will let you know when embarrassment is in fact imminent.

Yes, if you're a pro, you step in and do your duty.  That's what courage is, grasshopper:  the willingness to face fear and pain.  The point is, with some pitchers the element of fear becomes part of the equation.  To a moderate extent, that occurred on March 25.

........

Knowing now a bit about how Lloyd McClendon thinks, it's impossible to imagine him walking by this situation.

........

Both Taijuan and K-Pax grab the ball, fire it, and stand there leaning in impatiently with their mitts out.  As if they just cannot wait to throw the next pitch.  Which they can't.  They take the fight to the enemy, whoever that enemy is.  Mike Trout at the plate?  James Paxton holds the ball.  Of the two of them, James Paxton is the one who knows for sure whether the pitch will be off Trout's helmet.  

Randy Johnson scowled during one postgame:  I am the intimidator.  He is the intimidatee.  Period.  Or, you could say that a scary pitcher trumps a scary hitter.  But Randy said it better.

If Taijuan and K-Pax are healthy in 2015, it's going to be more fun than the Legion of Boom. These guys are the back of the rotation?  Talk about your shiny new toys.

XMas early this year,

Dr D