An introduction to Yu.
When Ben Rogers laid down the tracks for the C.J. Wilson intro song for the Ben & Skin Show a couple years ago (you can listen here if you’re looking for something you can’t get out of your head for half a day), he probably didn’t write it with a new 2012 meaning in mind. Or maybe he did. He’s Ben Rogers, Jedi.
He knows more about Lost than Yu
He’s more left-handed than Yu
And he can race cars faster than Yu
Whoa whoa.
He does more machine-gunnin’ than Yu
He’s more straightedge than Yu
And he’s somewhat better lookin’ than Yu
Whoa whoa.
But I will submit that C.J. Wilson would not have handled this question better than Yu.
Q: Do you think you could have gotten that last strike in Game 6?
A: If it was last year, I think I would have given up a home run and lost the game. But this year I’ll make sure that won’t happen.
Whoa whoa.
A perfectly humble and respectful response from the 25-year-old rock star.
(Watch the video of the presser and forward it to about 23:15 in and watch the look on Jon Daniels’s face as the question was asked, and as Darvish answered through scout and interpreter Joe Furukawa. Speaks volumes.)
There are a hundred places you can go today to read about what Darvish was asked and what he said last night, so I’m not going to recap it here. But aside from the Game 6 response, here are a few things that I thought stood out:
The sound – and duration – of all the clicking shutters as Darvish emerged at the press conference at 7:00 sharp (10 a.m. sharp in Japan). It was incredible. Sounded like someone typing out a story on an old-school Smith Corona. A very long story.
Josh Hamilton showing up for the presser to show support for Darvish, just as Michael Young, Ian Kinsler, and Hank Blalock had done when Hamilton was introduced to the local media in December 2007, a moment that had visibly affected the outfielder upon his arrival in Texas.
Darvish’s size:
The message on the ribbon displays around the Ballpark, which evidently said “Welcome to Texas, Yu Darvish” in Japanese. Nice touch, along with the highlight reel of Darvish’s career showing on the monster video board as he emerged from the dugout tunnel and onto the field.
Before the on-field portion, there were well over 200 folks situated (and close to 300 if you count the Rangers fans standing outside the windows of the Hall of Fame, watching) as Darvish settled effortlessly into the glare that he’s accustomed to. Asked by Eric Nadel when he’s felt the most pressure as a ballplayer – perhaps the World Baseball Classic in 2009 or other international competition, or some other game – and whether he believes it prepared him for the pressure of joining a World Series rotation that’s expected to continue to contend, Darvish responded: “It’s baseball. I just pitch. . . . I really can’t recall any moments when I felt strong pressure.”
It was one of the few things Darvish said last night that sounded like something Wilson would have said.
There are other things about the two that seem to fall into the same category – the supreme confidence, the workout tenacity, the off-the-field popularity and evident taste for the attention that comes with it, the varied assortment of pitches, the expectation of taking on the role of leading the rotation – but Darvish put on a striking exhibit of reverence for the situation in which he now finds himself, with the team he hoped even before the posting process would be the one to hand him his first Major League uniform.
He appears remarkably respectful and unassuming for a superstar personality – he reportedly declined the almost-standard perks that others who have come before him have insisted on (housing and car allowances, full-time handlers, etc.), preferring to be treated like the rest of his teammates – and that’s going to go over well in the room and with the media and public.
Especially if he can pitch the way the Rangers believe he will.