"Looks like this rain isn't going to stop..." Joe Girardi stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, looking seriously at the rain continuously falling from the sky, and hurriedly called the bullpen, "Remind Lin, tell him to keep warm and definitely not get wet before the ga starts."
October in New York had already started to cool, and today it suddenly began pouring rain. Considering that the Yankees and Indians' fourth ga of the series was scheduled for the night, the low temperature had clearly beco an issue that couldn't be ignored, and might even affect the players' performance during the ga.
"This damn weather, not raining earlier or later, but today during such an important ga, and it's neither heavy nor light. Fuck!" cursed a ho fan in a raincoat from the stands at Yankee Stadium.
He definitely had a point: if the rain was heavy enough to affect the ga, today's match would likely be canceled, giving the Yankees more ti to adjust.
However, the rain now was inconveniently moderate, not enough to stop play, yet creating considerable trouble for the players:
The rain would make the field slippery, affecting not only pitching and defense but also running bases, sliding, and diving for bases. In the outfield, for example, there were large patches of standing water, making defense even more difficult.
Besides, even though athletes are much more physically fit than ordinary people, continually getting wet in high-intensity gas, combined with New York's low temperatures, could indeed cause problems—if key players like Lin Guanglai or Judge had any issues, the Yankees would surely be in despair.
As Lin Guanglai finished warming up in the bullpen, wearing a heavy coat, he walked back to his team's dugout, distinctly feeling the rain droplets on his face, a novel experience for him.
Yet the pouring rain hadn't affected his condition in the slightest; during the bullpen warm-up, he felt good about his pitches. He even had the mood to wave to the ho fans in the stands, successfully eliciting their cheers in response.
After a brief pre-ga ceremony, the fourth ga of the 2017 MLB Arican League Division Series, New York Yankees vs. Cleveland Indians, officially began in the rain.
For both teams, the significance of this ga was trendous:
As the league leader, once holding a 2-0 lead with three match points, if the Indians were tied today by the Yankees, even though the deciding ga would be at their ho field, their ntality would surely be greatly affected;
As for the Yankees, the situation was simpler: a loss would see them send their opponents to face the Houston Astros, who had previously defeated the Boston Red Sox and advanced to the ALCS, leaving the Yankees with no reason to back down standing at the edge of the cliff.
The Indians' batting lineup remained unchanged, still the standard left-right "zigzag lineup," with one notable exception being the absence of Encarnacion, who sprained his ankle in the second ga of the series and hadn't returned to the starting lineup as expected, indicating the injury might be severe.
Leading off for the Indians, Francisco Lindor, had lost all his regular season brilliance in the playoffs, batting under .100 in the series with just one hit in 11 at-bats—his poor plate discipline was completely exploited by the Yankees' pitchers, achieving nothing apart from the grand slam in Ga 2.
As the matchup began, Lin Guanglai uncharacteristically threw two consecutive high-fastballs on the outside corner, both failing to find the strike zone, a rare occurrence for soone renowned for his precise control.
Major League balls are inherently harder to control, and coupled with the rain making the leather slipperier, it indeed affected Lin Guanglai's control to a considerable degree.
"Today's seams are hard to grip..." Feeling a different sensation on his fingers than usual, Lin Guanglai decisively shifted his strategy, abandoning the attempt to locate pitches on the outside corner, opting instead for a direct confrontation with Lindor.
"Swish," "Swish," "Swish"—fastballs exceeding 98 mph ca in succession, with no fancy movents, just drilling into the strike zone against Lindor.
Throughout this series, Lindor's ability to control the strike zone had significantly declined, enabling Lin Guanglai to confidently challenge the inner spaces, even the sweet spot.
With a "pop," the final high-fastball clocking at 99 mph was hit by Lindor, turning into an infield fly ball that was neither high nor deep, easily caught by Yankees' center fielder Aaron Hicks.
Jason Kipnis, batting second for the Indians, had been one of the best perforrs in this series, not only maintaining solid defense as a center fielder but also leading the lineup in hits. Yet against Lin Guanglai, he seed to lose his magic:
On the first pitch, Lin Guanglai confidently jamd a 99 mph fastball into Kipnis's inside corner. Despite the pitch not being as precise as usual, the opponent did nothing—no balls, one strike;
On the second pitch, Kipnis opted for a strong swing, but found nothing but air. Lin Guanglai deceived him with a 92 mph changeup in the strike zone, and it wasn't until the bat was about to swing past his chest that Kipnis realized he was completely fooled.
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