I went five innings and was hoping to start the sixth, but we had two on when I was due to bat.

It’s one of the more peculiar things that happens in a game. Duplicity in plain sight.

I was in the dugout with a helmet near the bat rack. That was to force the opposing Skip to reach for his phone.

As I walked into the on-deck circle, I knew I wasn’t going to hit. I mean, in my first at-bat, I didn’t embarrass myself, but I didn’t come close.

I don’t know why pitchers are bad hitters. We all hit in high school. Most of us hit in college or summer ball.

But when you spend the time you would have been in the cage in the film room or the bullpen, I guess you lose a step on your swing.

Yes, the kid in Anaheim is amazing. But talent always shines through and if there was an American kid that could play both ways before his 25th birthday, he’d be doing it in The Show.

And that’s all I was – a show. An open tell that accomplished its goal, forced them to make the first change so my Skip could make the last change.

The victim is me losing a chance to finish another frame. But allowing five hits and two runs (one unearned) was enough for Skip to tell me I might get another start soon.

It’s usually a long lonely walk to the locker room once I’m done on the mound. But the possibility of hope makes all the difference.