I thought I had this batter.

He had fouled off his third straight pitch and it was just getting frustrating.

It was the 4th inning of my next start. I wasn’t cruising, but I hadn’t allowed a run; scattering a couple of singles and a double and leaving them stranded.

I got the first guy to ground out harmlessly on the first pitch. A pitcher’s true perfect game would be just throwing one pitch to each batter.

But this would not be my perfection. The next guy hit a line drive to center and stood on first when Parkman wagged his way to the batter’s box.

For whatever reason, his stance was ideal for my inside change. We all notice it in breakdown, in film and in the pages and pages of documents I have on Parkman.

But none of that stuff is standing 60 feet 6 inches.

I work him up in the zone on both sides of the plate. He popped up my cut fastball in the 2nd, but he’s hit me hard in the past.

He wasn’t fooled well enough by my change dying by his ankles. I’m trying to save my cut fastball for a true surprise, so I settle for the fastball on the outer edge.

This is the exact wrong time for it to wander back over the middle and…

Sometimes you don’t even have to look.

The sound is enough and my mistake is going to cost the team two runs.

And after the game, all I will be able to say is that pitch got away. But I’m really thinking why he couldn’t just chase what I wanted him to…

Like the next eight of his teammates as I finish six innings before I’m pinch hit for.