Blangraphs

Since returning from the DL with elbow crankiness Blanton made 5 appearances in relief. His numbers played out like this: 8IP, 2ER, 11K's, 0BB's, .875WHIP. Ka-Joe!

September 12, 2011. It's a calm night at Minute Maid park, in the bottom of the 8th inning, and number 56 is kicking the dirt on the mound. For the first time in months, Kentucky Joe Blanton is going to pitch in the majors. He looks in at Humberto Quintero, a right-handed catcher. Blanton chooses his pitch and uncorks a slider in the dirt. This deceptive dart of a pitch was just a bit overdone, and Quintero smiles, thinking about how close he was to being fooled by Blanton. Ball one.

Getting set again, Blanton calmy maneuvers his body behind the baseball, subtly and harmoniously working all of his muscles to power the ball with a wave of Newtonian fury. Quintero can't catch up to the missile, finding that his bat has only gone a quarter of the way around before the ball is past him. Strike one.

On the next pitch, Blanton makes his only mistake of the night. Blanton unleashes his deceptive change-up, but Quintero is ready and thumps it into left field for a single. Jason Michaels stands ready, slowly walking into the batters box. He won't be there for long.

O, how many batters have stood where Michaels now stands, and O how many have felt a surge of confidence, ready to prove that the unassuming man on the mound, whose movements are slight, and who appears average in so many ways, is their lesser? How many such men have imagined that Joe Blanton will be a footnote in the tale of their glory? To Michaels, the ball seems to take an eternity as it leaves Blanton's hand and approaches him, and he is brimming with anticipation.

But as so many learn, and try to forget, there is layer upon layer of maddening mystery in the strategy of the man on the mound. The pitch, seemingly slow and pedestrian, is not quite where it should be, and Michaels finds his bat awkwardly, embarrassingly, underneath the ball, chopping it into the sky. It floats harmlessly in the air and nestles itself in the glove of Michael Martinez.

The next batter is Jordan Schafer. he mangles the first pitch into a bouncing foul ball, as if he is crumpling a beautiful picture into a ball. He knows that his approach was wrong, but he feels close, since he put the bat on the ball. He steps outside the box and tries to get a bearing on his situation. When he is ready, he steps back into the box and glimpses Blanton staring in. The visor of Joe's blood-red cap casts a shadow over his face, and Schafer cannot see if Blanton's eyes hold any sympathy for the hopeless hitters he is facing. As Schafer tries to grasp this fleeting thought, Blanton hurls the ball past him for strike two.

The next pitch is high, and the fourth pitch flirts with the outside corner, and Schafer kicks the dirt nervously. What will happen next? Perhaps Blanton will get a grip of his location and finally throw a strike. The last two have been close ones, and he'll probably stop fooling around and challenge Schafer. That sounds perfect, because Schafer feels that on this pitch, he is truly ready. Blanton exhales, touches his cap, and deals the pitch. It takes a split second to arrive. Schafer sees a somewhat lazy fastball leaving Blanton's hand, but his heart sinks almost as quickly as the ball. It's the slider again! Schafer finds himself flailing by the time the ball arrives, and he returns to the dugout.

Angel Sanchez is the Astros' last chance against Blanton. He drops into a coiled stance that suggests he has lashed many a difficult pitch into unexpected singles and doubles. He takes the first pitch outside. On the next pitch, he gets one in the strike zone, and he strikes. With a quick stinging motion, he attacks the ball, only to realize that it will not leave the infield. The ball bounces harmlessly to Jimmy Rollins, and Blanton's dominance is complete.

Joe Blanton pitched a perfect game* today in the minors.




















































(if a game is defined as one inning)