April 21st, 2006A date that I will never forget. When I woke up that Friday morning, I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I knew that on this dreary day, I would be pitching against Johns Hopkins University, ranked 12 in Division III Baseball. It was my senior year at Gettysburg college and I was off to a pretty good start with a 3-1 record. I had faced Johns Hopkins twice in the past and they had gotten the best of me and ruining my respectable ERA each season. To be honest, I was not looking forward to facing them a third time because the odds were against me. In the past 9 matchups between Gettysburg and John Hopkins, JHU was 9-0 and the runs scored in those games was 112-36 in favor of Hopkins. No wonder we hadn't beaten them, they averaged over 12 runs a game to our 4 runs. But the practice before gave me the confidence that I needed.
Called out The Thursday practice before the game against Hopkins was normal as usual. I did my usual throwing and mentally prepared for the game ahead of me. At the end of practice we had our normal "Johns Hopkins" speech delivered by the head coach, John Campo. The speech was given the day before every home game against Johns Hopkins in order to motivate the team. During the speech which always involved "They are just a bunch of doctor's!," Coach Campo turned a pointed at me. To this day, I still do not know what his intentions were, or what drove him to say what he was about to say. He said "Brian Spicer is going to go out there tomorrow against John's Hopkins on this field and he is going to throw the game of his life." I was completely thrown off guard because Coach Campo never included any player in any of his speeches. I knew that I had to step up my game in order to live up to the coaches premonition.
GametimeI had prepared for this game as it was a normal game. Had a big plate of pasta the night before, and done all of my other superstitions. As I took the field to get ready and warm up, I looked at the sky and saw that it was looking like it was about to rain. The weather channel called for rain and it was expected that the game was expected to be rained out. I believe to this day that I did not hype up the game because I thought it was going to be postponed. I went into the first inning with confidence and my arm felt healthy and strong. The time was now to get my revenge on the best team in our conference.
As I prepared to face the first batter, I collected my thoughts and walked to the back of the pitcher's mound to complete another superstition that I had. I put my hat on twice and said 3 phrases that I learned and believed in. Those phrases were "No Doubt, Refuse to Lose, and Whatever It Takes." Whenever I am competitive in any sport, I play with that attitude that I have "no doubt" in my abilities, "refuse to lose" the game, and do "whatever it takes" to win.
The first batter I faced popped up to first base. The second batter crushed the ball off of me, but luckily it was right at my shortstop who made the play. The third batter was Rob Pietrioforte, who was currently leading the Centennial Conference with his batting average over .500. He was my first but not last strikeout victim of the afternoon as he struck out swinging. I returned to the dugout and put on my jacket as I sat down on the bench by myself. I took a deep breath and knew I was off to a good start. Gettysburg scored first with a lead off double, a fly ball that advanced the runner to 3rd, and a single that drive in the first run of the game. As the first inning ended, I headed back to the mound to begin where I left off striking out the first batter. I threw a couple pitches to the next batter before he fouled a ball between first base and the catcher, a ball that would be hard to reach from either position. I sprinted towards the ball and called everyone off "I got it, I got it" and just as I was about to catch it, everything went black.
Blacked OutI briefly lost consciousness and awoke unable to breath as I layed on the damp grass clasping my chest. I had no idea what happened after I was about to make the second out but it felt like I was run over by a car. When I went to catch the foul ball, the batter trotted down the first baseline and instead of getting out of the way for the defense (me) to make the play, he lowered his shoulder into my vulnerable sternum as I stared up into the sky. He upended me to the ground and knocked the wind out of me. As I laid there wincing in pain and trying to compose myself by getting air back into my lungs, I heard the umpire make the call. The batter was called out to pitcher's interference, which I had never heard of before but I am pretty sure baseball is not a contact sport like football is. My coach came over to argue what had happened and I heard my teammates yelling that the play was dirty. Still laying on the grass I finally got my wind back, pushed myself off the ground, and walked past the umpire and my coach towards the mound. I was pissed! I got on the mound and took some practice pitches to see if I was ok. I was throwing even harder now than I had in the beginning of the game. Turns out that that play changed everything and I was on a mission and determined to beat Johns Hopkins once and for all. Because I was staring into the sky about to catch the foul ball, I am unable to know if the collision was intentional or accidental, but it didn't matter, because I was going to do "whatever it takes" to win the game. As I was throwing the next couple warm up pitches faster and harder, I only threw 1 pitch to the next batter who flew out to right field. I walked off the mound to my teammates applauding me and getting them back into the game. I put my jacket on, sat by myself and stayed focused on the task at hand.
In the third inning I still had that fire inside me as I struck out the side. In the fourth inning I struck out the first batter, then faced the batter who hit a line drive to the shortstop for the second time in the game and he singled off of me. The nect batter was .500 Pietrioforte who I managed to blow a fastball by him for strike 3. I got out of the inning given up 1 hit. At this point I blocked out everything in my mind and concentrated solely on pitching. I payed no attention to statistics or the scorebook and sat quietly by myself on the bench while my teammates provided some run support from me.
In the 6th inning, I was still throwing hard and never lost sight at the light at the end of the tunnel. I had no idea how many pitches I had thrown or how many strikeouts I had, which I normally check. This inning I faced .500 Pietrioforte again and managed to get him to strike out on a curveball that was unhitable. I had struck out the best hitter in the conference 3 times giving him the "golden sombrero" which is what you get after 3 strikeouts in a game. I am not sure where the term came from or what it means, but it is a baseball term that is commonly used in this circumstance. .500 Pietrioforte was 1 of 3 strikeouts that inning and the term for the pitcher striking out all 3 batters is "striking out the side."
After striking out the side in 8th inning (and .500 Pietrioforte again for the fourth time of the game "platinum sombrero") I finally arrived to the ninth with a 4-0 lead. I was only three more outs away from beating the best team in our conference and they were not happy about it. On alot of my strikeouts, they were screaming and making noise about the calls the umpire was making but they did not have the view that I did. Maybe I should be knocked down during every game to create the intensity that I had on that grey Friday afternoon. I looked over to the side of the Johns Hopkins dugout to see the fans tailgating at the game and cheering on Gettysburg baseball. This was a rare scene because we did not get many fans at our games. However, this was a friday game against a rival and most classes were over by noon on Friday so we had fan support behind us. As I was ready to face the first batter of the inning, I looked over to see my teammates all on their feet making noise, supporting me, and hopefully witnessing their first victory over Johns Hopkins in 9 matchups.
The Final Three OutsHearing all the support for me from the crowd and teammates, I faced the first batter. A single to left field with no outs. The next batter struck out on an outside fastball that he thought was a ball; sorry, it wasn't. The next batter singled up the middle and the runner on first advanced to second base. With runners at first and second, I managed to strike out the next batter and get the second out. All I needed was 1 more out to complete the mission that I set out to finish in the 2nd inning. I had to calm myself down and keep my composure and get the final out. I lost some control on my next few pitches on the next batter and ended up walking him to load the bases. Now I am in a "do or die" situation. If I allowed a run, I would lose the shutout. If I allowed a run, I would be taken out of the game and been replaced. If I allowed a run, I would have failed my mission... I wasn't about to let that happen. I had come too far in this game that I needed to take control and end it my way. The count was 1-2 and the catcher put down the sign of an outside fastball, exactly what I wanted. I had been hitting the outside corner all game and the umpire enjoyed calling strike 3 seven times that game on outside fastballs that tailed in. Very hard to hit. I took a deep breath, wound up and threw my hardest fastball that my arm allowed me to throw. As I looked up, I saw that the batter made contact towards first base, I reacted by attempting to cover first base. As the ball traveled down the first base line my heart skipped a beat. The ball ricoted off the first base bag. Normally when the ball hits any bag, it changes directions and is hard to field. Thankfully the ball skipped off the bag right to the first baseman who fielded the ball cleanly and tagged the bag for the final out. GETTYSBURG WINS 4-0 OVER JOHNS HOPKINS!! What a
game! As I was being congradulated by teammates, they told me that I had tied a school record of 17 strikeouts. I had no idea that I had that many and especially to a ranked team. This was my
game on my day and no one could take that away from me.
A week later I was named National
Player of the Week by Louisville Slugger with a few other players from across the country (All Division I schools.)
This was a day in my baseball history that I will never forget