Nate Eovaldi throws pitches that no other pitcher can throw.
Now, of course that’s true of every pitcher on Planet Earth. Every pitcher is a snowflake, uniquely capable of different spins, rises, and pops. But Nathan Eovaldi literally, in 2015, created a pitch that I have never seen before.
Throughout the process of Nate developing his splitter, it wouldn’t be incorrect to call me a skeptic. I loved the acquisition of Eovaldi prior to 2015, and found it laughable that Yankee fans suddenly had this “don’t take our guy!” attachment to Martin Prado, of all people. I didn’t think Eovaldi would step into the rotation and be instantly flawless, but I operate under the assumption that any time you have the chance to acquire a 100-mph fireballer, you do so without batting an eye. Speed can’t be taught. You grow, and your arm strengthens and flexes and hopefully doesn’t break, but some people throw 91 and others throw 100. That’s just how it is. Nate breaks the century barrier. Get him on my team.
Unfortunately, though, it was well known at the time that Eovaldi’s scorcher was shockingly hittable. In 2014, despite throwing a fastball that could shatter wood, he was only 80th in swinging strike rate among all pitchers. In 2015, he plummeted to 115th. Something was wrong, and Larry Rothschild had to make an adjustment. Otherwise, the Prado deal was destined to be a footnote, a Mike Buddie trade for a new generation. So Rothschild decided to work on a splitter to help teach Eovaldi a little something about making his pitches move.
And…nothing really happened, at first. His April ended with an ERA of 4.15 and one truly encouraging start against the Tigers, who called Eovaldi one of the toughest pitchers they’d faced (causing me to fantasize ways to get him to Detroit). May, more of the same, 4.54. June, disaster struck.
Nate’s start against his former team, the not-good Marlins, was an abject travesty. He couldn’t complete an inning, letting up nine hits and eight earned runs, without any end in sight. The Yanks punted a midseason game against a terrible opponent, and Nate looked entirely flat, without spin. No change of pace. The Yanks tried to get Prado to board the plane home to the Bronx, but that didn’t work. Nate was still our problem.
And then, suddenly, the value of a 100 miles-per-hour revealed itself. If a pitcher can throw 100, then theoretically, he can throw other pitches at harder relative rates than his competitors, too. His next start, in Houston, Nate had a new splitter in his arsenal. A hard breaker, down-and-in. A desperate dive at a batter’s feet, or around the outside corner. It was almost like a Joba slider, but somehow seemed several kilometers faster. Nothing like it.
And, God bless him, from that point on, Nate Eovaldi was one of the best pitchers in baseball. Following that June 25th trainwreck, Eovaldi’s splitter hopped from 85.01 mph to 89.17, and 879 rotations per minute to 1,478. His splitter usage leapt from 12.7% to 21.3%. With talent came confidence, and with confidence came the parallel realization that he finally had a viable alternative to the fastball. His inflated win total was no longer misleading. He truly possessed the most remarkable, confounding pitch in the Yankee rotation, a Tanaka splitter with more unique movement.
And so, as we enter the 2016 season, it’s important that we refuse to forget that Eovaldi exists. He’s not Nathan Eovaldi from even twelve months ago, he of the most hittable good fastball in recent history. He’s Nathan Eovaldi, born with a blessed arm, and a man who discovered the crux of his craft, finally, mid-2015.
The Yankee rotation is often scorned, while the bullpen is vaunted. People love to remark that, if all goes wrong, it’s a possibility their ranks could be left in shambles. But if all goes right, Nathan Eovaldi’s never-before-seen split/fastball combination could be residing in the four-slot. That’s a rotation built to surprise, all because a tweak we all saw coming was realized with more potential than we ever could have imagined. Eovaldi’s rehabbed and ready. Blink and you’ll miss him.
