MILWAUKEE — Ian Seymour tested Sal Frelick late Saturday night, nearly releasing what the Brewers outfielder could produce.
But Frelick never backs down when challenged. The fire of his collision only burns hotter.
In the bottom of the sixth inning in Game 2 of the World Series, with the Brewers on the verge of erasing a four-run deficit for the second time this season, the Rays’ left reliever kept feeding Frelick fastballs.
All the nine words at-bat indeed. There is a lot of pitch between the two alternative variations.
Sinker. There were four. Sinker. There were four. Sinker. There were four. Sinker. There were four.
“I’m in the eight hole,” Frelick said, explaining the number of fastballs he saw. “I’m safe. You assume a guy like that who’s going to come to you.”
Frelick, so that he carried all the luck of the battle. He had confused half of the first eight words, and at last the Count had worked out the full ones.
Seymour became a predictable creature of habit, not repeating the same voice twice.
That at-bats until the ninth pitch.
Seymour Frelick tried again, throwing a four-yarder for his second consecutive pitch, this one over the inner third of the plate. Frelick didn’t miss it, he just hit the ground running to tie it up for twenty-four pence.
Bedlam was followed by an American family in the Field. Yellow cloths are arranged in concert across the street. And as the stadium broke out, so did Frelick, the first baseman. He pointed to his bullpen. They showed their backs. Because of this Brewer, there were a lack of invitations. Facing the crowd only encourages.
Winning feels inevitable, as Milwaukee’s 5-4 victory in Game 2 demonstrated.
Frelick, who hit four regular-season home runs, didn’t deliver the last hit. Victor Prat did. It is certain, however, that the Brewers would have that opportunity to land.
“He had four lasers tonight,” Brewer manager Pat Murphy said. “He hit four balls right on the screws. We talked about it in pregame, he’s got a factor.”
That “factor” that Murphy sees in Frelick was committed to high school football, where he earned Massachusetts Gatorade Player of the Year 2017 quarterback honors.
The “factor” was worshiped on ice skates, in a state where hockey borders on religion.
The “factor” was introduced by his father, Jeff, who played football at the University of Pittsburgh before injuries cut his career short.
That “fact” is beyond doubt. All his accolades, Frelick was still seen fighting. Ignored that he was 5 feet tall.
“They’re all built differently,” Murphy said. “Everybody expresses it differently. I think that Sal was a young man who had very good physical skills, but he wasn’t big in stature like a lot of guys are. So, as a smaller guy, I think he always had to prove how big he was. He has that edge about him that he believes in himself.”
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Margo Murphy is like the Red Sox long second baseman Dustin Pedroia, whom he coached at Arizona State. Pedroia did not possess Frelick’s physical gifts, but both share an insatiable desire to dominate, regardless of what their natural abilities suggest.
“Murph will tell you the first time that he never got enough of watching me lead or run or field or whatever,” Frelick said. “I always felt like there was where I could get my mouth just kind of turning everything into a contest. Put me in the box and iso me and the pitcher. Or on defense, just iso me and the ball. How do I hit it?”
Maybe not the most beautiful build but the most beautiful event. A reminder of how October has a way of going through the tribulations of being washed away just to get there. How the full time can be regularly reduced to the mark when the player delivers the player in the field.
Because Frelick’s regular season was nothing but memorable. He hit .230 with a .614 OPS.
A right shoulder injury sidelined him for six weeks, mostly between July and August. When he returned, his office was diminished. Although the Brewers have long embraced the lineup, Frelick has found himself largely relegated to right-handed pitching.
Luis Lara, a 21-year-old prospect called up in July, had taken Frelick’s playing field for some time. But Frelick did not swallow. Jupiter sharpened his sun. Emotions, rarely on display, were locked up. It can get tough coaching.
In May, Murphy admitted that he doesn’t know how to love Frelick enough. So he reminded himself: Say to Sal, “I love you Sal.”
Then it seemed better. He crossed over.
“You know what? I don’t need to tell you,” Murphy said.
Beneath the humor was the truth: Frelick didn’t need constant reassurance. His rivalry, his confidence, his unwavering sense of self – all nurtured over time.
“It was great,” Frelick said of his home run. “Like, such a black feeling. Then it kind of ends. We were tied. We weren’t winning or anything.”
The Brewers now have a chance to capture the first World Series championship in franchise history as the series changes at Tropicana Field, where the Rays went 59-27 this season, including the postseason.
It will be another test for Milwaukee in a series decided by one run in the first two games. The rays do not go silently.
All in all, however, Milwaukee responded to the challenge.
But on Saturday night, Frelick responded to his disciples.
Because as leaves fall and flowers fall, Frelick bloomed.