Title: Just a Game of Catch
Fandom: Baseball RPF (SF Giants)
Rating: general
Length: ~1,000
Content notes: nothing requiring a mandatory warning
Summary: Oh July 13, 2012, Matt Cain pitched the twenty-second perfect game pitched in major league history and the first in the 128 year history of the Giants franchise. He was caught by Buster Posey.
Notes: For the Performance Anxiety challenge



June 13, 2012
SF Giants vs Houston Astros
@ AT&T Park

In the bottom of the seventh, when it's beginning to sink in that this just, might, possibly happen, Belt sits in Cain's spot on the bench. Buster's not sure if it's deliberate or not, but he's a little surprised by how pissed off he is. Cain, of course, says nothing when he comes back to the dugout after his at bat; he just looks at Belt until Belt's eyes go wide and he leaves the bench. Buster wants to say something to Belt, but he's not sure if that's a good idea. He doesn't know if drawing any kind of attention to what's going on is allowed.

In the end, Vogey takes care of Belt. For a minute, Buster's afraid Vogey's going to actually haul off and punch Belt, but in the end he just gives him a good hard shaking and snarls something at him.

Cain settles into his seat and stares out over the field. If it were any other game, Buster might sit next to him and talk about the game plan for the late innings or about what Cain was seeing from the opposing pitcher or even about their kids. They're friends, both on and off the field, and chatting during games is just what they do. Tonight? Not so much.

For the most part, Buster thinks baseball superstitions are stupid. While he knows there's a little more to succeeding in baseball than just hard work and concentration, he thinks the luck aspect is out of his hands. Nothing you can do or say or not do or not say or wear or not wear will make an umpire's call go your way or keep a stupid rookie from bowling you over at the plate and ending your season.

But Buster also knows that there are some superstitions that can't be messed with. If it were just him, it'd be one thing, but when a whole dugout is buying into it, when anything Buster could do or say might upset the balance, he needs to go along with it.

Buster's no stranger to stressful games; after all, he caught every single inning of the 2010 playoffs from that first game against Atlanta all the way through the final out when they won it all. He even caught a no hitter back in college. But there was never a point in the playoffs when they were in a win or go home situation and that college game was only seven innings long.

This is nothing like either of those times.

So far, this is perfection. Twenty one batters up, twenty one batters down. Six to go.

Buster's never caught anything like this. He doesn't know anyone who's caught a perfect game, which isn't surprising since it's only happened twenty-one times before. Buster's not a big student of baseball history, but he knows the number because Philip Humber did it earlier this year. Not that knowing that helps much. It's not like he can just duck down into the clubhouse and call up A.J. Pierzynski and ask him how it went.

The one person he really want to talk to about it is the one person tradition says he has to leave alone. At least they're communicating well on the field. Better than well, really. Cain's thrown every pitch Buster's called; he hasn't shaken Buster off once all night. And even knowing that is stressful.

Everyone knows that a perfect game takes more than just a pitcher having an amazing night; it takes everyone on the team being on top of their game. This one's been saved twice already by the outfield and the infield's been sharp too. What if Buster's the one who makes the mistake? What if he calls the wrong pitch? What if he can't frame the ball and get the call and they walk someone? A no hitter is nothing to sneeze at, but it's not a perfect game.

He thinks of going over to Rags and talking about the Astros' hitting, but he doesn't normally do that during the game unless the pitcher is flailing and that's hardly the case here. The Astros aren't seeing what Cain's throwing and yeah, they're the Astros, but right now Buster thinks the '27 Yankees could come in and not see what's Cain's throwing.

Buster sneaks a glance over at Cain, wondering if he's got the same feeling in the pit of his stomach that Buster does. Buster kind of wishes he could go down into the tunnel and throw up right about now. He hates the feeling; he's always been able to deal with stressful situations, but now he feels like it's his first Little League game.

And it's stupid, because in spite of his worries, it's not his game to screw up. Cain's the one making the decisions out there and while he hasn't shaken Buster off, he has changed locations a couple times. And he's been right; he's been right all night. Buster has to trust Cain the way Cain trusts him.

Out on the field, Burriss grounds into a double play to end the inning. Buster's grabs his helmet and glove and falls in behind Cain as they walk out to take the field. They've just cleared the stairs when Cain turns to Buster and smiles at him.

"Remember," he says. "It's just a game of catch."

Martinez is up first; he hits the first pitch right to Arias. As Buster watches, Arias throws it to Belt, as he watches Belt go up on his tiptoes to catch it, he feels himself relax just a little. Maybe a slower third baseman doesn't get to that ball. Maybe a shorter first baseman doesn't catch it. But Arias was in the right place, Belt was in the right place and in the end?

It's just a game of catch.

"You know, I can't thank Buster enough. I didn't question once what he was calling. He was going to throw whatever he wanted and I was gonna let him go. Buster did an unbelievable job back there; that was tremendous." -- Matt Cain

"Tell you what--out there was the most nervous I've ever been on a baseball field." -- Buster Posey

-end-