Ted Williams used to call it the most difficult thing to do in sports. Hit a baseball. His book, “The Science Of Hitting” was, if memory serves, one of the first books devoured by my son, John Jr., a bit after the literary delights of “Working Hard With The Mighty Mixer” and “Thomas The Tank Engine” had been consumed with eagerness on Mom’s lap.
I recall summoning him from the shower after a three-hit game one night to witness Ted’s final public appearance at the 1999 All-Star Game in Boston, where all the current players as well as some all-timers, gathered around Ted’s wheelchair, stationed between the pitcher’s mound and home plate. “Ted’s old,” John said. “But these guys love him.” He was right.
A bit later, we even took him to the Ted Williams’ Hitter’s Museum in Hernando, let him walk around with the video camera, talking about some of the game’s greatest hitters and his plans for his baseball future. He asked me once after a day at Mike Martin Camp if he could be good at this game. I nodded, went over what he did well and said, “Yeah, I think you could be really good.” He looked at me, that freckled, sweaty, clay-tinted face deadly serious. “I don’t wanna be good,” he said, dismissively. “I wanna be great.”
It’s fair to say those early lessons from Ted sunk in. Now in his 10th professional season, which included parts of two seasons in the major leagues, John’s skill with the bat raised his game to an elite level. With the Pittsburgh Pirates in July of 2021, he was fourth in the National League in batting! Ted would have been as proud as Dad. Well, almost.
John learned early from Ted that there was only one way to succeed at the plate. “In my 22 years of professional baseball,” Williams explained in “The Science Of Hitting,” I went to the bat almost 8,000 times, and every trip to the plate was an adventure, one that I could remember and store up as information. I honestly believe I can recall everything there was to know about my first 300 home runs - who the pitcher was, the count, the pitch itself, where the ball landed. I didn't have to keep a written book on pitchers - I lived a book on pitchers.”
Dad read Ted’s book, too. So, when he was an 11-year-old playing in Tallahassee’s Advanced Play League, we took batting practice this way. “Tonight, you’re facing John Cain…” I’d say and try to throw the way Cain did. Next, it’d be someone else. “OK, Thursday, it’s Brad Bell, he’ll throw like this…” same there. And through the league, I ‘d mimic the pitcher’s motion and type of pitches. It became a habit.
Once he found the scouting reports shoddy and unreliable, Dad’s first job of the day was to find video of that night’s pitcher, send him a few video clips with advice occasionally mixed in. When he faced the Dodgers’ Tony Gonsolin in Double A Springfield with the Cardinals, Dad noticed he threw really hard (98) and like Nuke LaLoosh, liked to announce his presence at the door - a first-pitch heater.
So my advice: Be READY TO SWING. John did and clobbered a first-pitch HR that some kid out on the outfield grass made a diving catch of. Got both of them on Sportscenter.
While it’s true that the little pitcher-hitter battle is a nightly thing for players good enough to play professional baseball. But when the matchup is something special, one of those challenges like Ted Williams getting geared up to face Bob Feller, the best vs. the best, you’ve got to raise your game.
Wednesday night, in Game Two of a doubleheader with the Winnipeg Goldeyes, John was facing the league’s top pitcher, Winnipeg’s fireballer Joey Matulovich, a 6-3 righthander with great stuff - a league-leading 75 strikeouts in 64 innings, a 2.53 ERA and only 12 walks. Which meant he threw strikes and got lots of swings and misses.
“He’s the best pitcher in the league,” John explained. “He’s got great spin rate, a riding fastball that seems to rise. Lot of movement. Very hard to square up.”
June had been a great month for John, hitting over .400. So he was primed for the showdown, one of those games you mark on your mental calendar. But so was Matulovich, named the league’s Pitcher of the Month with a 3-1 record, 48 whiffs and a sparkling 1.59 ERA.
Since the Explorers were routed in Game One, a 9-0 loss, with a near-sellout crowd packing Lewis and Clark Park this night, they faced a formidable task. The Goldeyes saved Matulovich for Game Two and the sweep.
Sioux City was already trailing 1-0 when John, hitting fourth, led off the second. He had an idea what he’d see.
“Matulovich gets a lot of strikeouts with that high, riding fastball, so you know you’re probably going to get it,” he said. “But if he’s ahead in the count, he throws it up so it’s hard to lay off it and really hard to hit it.”
He started him with a slow slider, way off the plate then came back with another, slower, that the ump said was on the corner. “It was two balls out,” John said. Then came what he expected, high gas but up high and tight. John swung and fouled it back. Whew. Now, with two strikes, what would he throw?
Matulovich tried a low off-the-plate slider, a waste pitch to tempt a chase. John checked. 2-2. Would he try and buzz him in with that 93 MPH heater?
“I’d seen his slider,” John said, “and it’s not that great a pitch, compared to his fastball. And he saw the swing I took at the fastball so he knew I was looking for it in. I just had a hunch he’d go up and away - hardest pitch to hit with two strikes.”
He guessed right. The fastball was up a bit and delivered hard but John had the bat head there and ripped the ball over 100 MPH into the left center field gap, right in front of the Hole Miniature Golf sign, a standup double. SUCCESS!
“It was up and away but that’s where I was looking. So I pounced on it.” He got a scornful look from Matulovich once he arrived at second base.
Matulovich got his revenge in the 4th. John led off the inning again, the game tied 1-1. Matulovich missed with an opening away slider, then a softer one, a bit up, to fall behind, 2-0. John got his 2-0 heater but it was a nasty one, that riding fastball up and in. He did well to foul it, the count goes to 2-1. Then Matulovich showed a different pitch, a sweet, slow changeup, at least eight-to-ten miles slower, that caught the corner to make it 2-2.
“That was a great pitch,” John said. “Which set up the next one.” Matulovich once again aimed high and really tight.
“It was coming at my face,” John said. “It was like I had to swing at it, in self-defense, almost.”
And he swung and missed with an awkward swing, Matulovich’s 75th victim of the season. Their duel - and the score - was tied, 1-1.
When John came up for the third time in the fifth, with two outs and a runner on third, Sioux City had squeaked a 2-1 lead. This is where it really gets interesting. That third at bat.
John had hit his best pitch - that high, riding fastball in the second for a sizzling double. But Matulovich, with a perfectly placed heater struck him out in the fourth. What now?
He started the at bat with a slow, perfectly delivered slider on the corner for strike one. John leaned over, clearly fooled by the pitch. 0-1. Then, aiming up and in, Matulovich fired his rising gas and with a quick snap of a swing, John fouled it straight back. Then, taking a page from Ted, he stepped out of the box for a second.
“The way I took a swing at that, it was like I was sitting on it,” John said, smiling. “I even said it in the batter’s box, “Damn,” like I had been looking for that pitch. I wasn’t really, I was late. But I wanted him to see that.”
This is a little detail, a sixth sense, perhaps, learned through experience (John’s played in 1,037 pro games, had 3,548 at bats) that sometimes a little acting can work in your favor.
“I knew his slider really wasn’t that sharp, he wasn’t going to get me out with that. But he also saw that I’d ripped his fastball in that first at bat, made it look like I was sitting on it. So, up 0-2, he knows I’m a smart hitter, I’m going to be ready for the fastbalI. So I crossed that out in my mind. I guessed he’d try to front-door me in with the slider.”
Which is precisely what Matulovich attempted, sending the baseball spinning in the direction of John’s left knee. Before it got there, however, the barrel of John’s black ash bat met it, squared it up perfectly with a loud, gorgeous crack and the ball soared high and long into the night, baseball’s perfect hit - a home run.
He trotted around the bases happily, this mini-war decided in his favor on this night. After he touched home, he pointed up in the stands to Mom and I, who were standing and cheering amidst a sea of happy noise at Lewis and Clark Park.
On this night, John won the duel because, as Ted used to say, “have an idea up there.” And, with a piece of wood in his hands, John acted on it.
Here, see for yourself!
https://x.com/aa_baseball/status/1808691251023069450?s=43&fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR2ww7EXcqB-WTLixI_Oo9xe6VwvEoLBPgjwehZ1xM0Mvj8XTvw9xGMyRQE_aem_PxvjoiHEAIQ5GJNY1CgsnQ
Great article John!! That kid of yours is something special!! Talented for sure!!
Really nice article!!!