The Rockies pitcher overcame mysterious control problems to return to the major leagues, but the problems weren’t gone for good. Photograph by Cassidy Araiza for The New Yorker This week at Fenway Park, in Boston, the Colorado Rockies reliever Daniel Bard made two appearances, pitching a scoreless inning in back-to-back games and earning two wins. That would be a good couple of days for any reliever, but it was especially meaningful for Bard, who was making his first return to Fenway in more than a decade, and facing the team for which he had been an up-and-coming star, before it all fell apart. As Louisa Thomas writes in a fascinating profile of Bard in this week’s issue, it had all been going great until he got what athletes refer to as the “yips” and lost control of his pitches: “He blew leads. He bruised batters. He stood on the lonely island of the mound, engulfed by jeers. He was sent to the minors, where he spent five years trying to relearn what had once felt automatic. Finally, in 2017, he quit.” Thomas chronicles Bard’s incredible comeback—but this is a rare long-shot sports story that isn’t all about triumph. Although Bard is back in the majors, he remains locked in a struggle with his mind and body, the outcome of which is far from certain. Support The New Yorker’s award-winning journalism. Subscribe today » |
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