Inside Baseball: Rocket-armed Chapman takes baseball by storm
Nothing excites the baseball mythmaking machine like a rocket arm. And when that arm emerges not from some baseball academy but from the mysterious mists, the myth is enhanced.

Nothing excites the baseball mythmaking machine like a rocket arm.
And when that arm emerges not from some baseball academy but from the mysterious mists, the myth is enhanced.
Think of Bob Feller, the farm boy from Van Meter, Iowa. Or Nolan Ryan, the laconic, small-town Texan. Or even Sandy Koufax, the Brooklyn bonus baby who appeared suddenly, as if by magic, after years in the shadows of the Dodgers' bench.
Some potential myths, like Steve Dalkowski or Herb Score, surface only to be slapped down cruelly and quickly by fate.
The latest in this tradition, a Cuban lefthander who materialized at a Rotterdam hotel one day last summer, stepped onto the big-league stage last week in Cincinnati with two performances right out of The Natural.
The Reds' Aroldis Chapman, 22, threw just 19 pitches in retiring all six Milwaukee hitters he faced in those two one-inning stints. Ten of those pitches topped 100 m.p.h., at least three were clocked at 103, one at 103.9.
According to Baseball Almanac, the fastest pitch ever recorded was 104.8 m.p.h. by Detroit's Joel Zumaya in October 2006. The only other pitcher to have hit 103 on a gun was Braves closer Mark Wohlers, in spring training 1995.
How fast is 103? If you'd like to find out, don't blink.
According to retired Penn physics professor Howard Brody, a ball thrown at that speed takes just .396 of a second to travel to home plate, even less when you factor in the pitcher's stride. Most eyeblinks are slower.
And when a guy who throws 103 also has a 90 m.p.h. slider like the 6-foot-4 Chapman does, hitters don't have much chance.
After his initial big-league pitch, a 98 m.p.h. fastball (or was it a change-up?), Cincinnati catcher Ryan Hanigan tossed the ball into the dugout so it could be saved for posterity.
And speaking of pitching myths, that's the image invoked by several of those who saw the lanky Chapman's performances at Great American Ball Park.
"You don't see this stuff outside of Sidd Finch," Wayne Krivsky, the ex-Reds GM, said after seeing Chapman last week. He was referring to the fictional phenom Sports Illustrated created for its April Fool's edition in 1985.
Reds officials plan to use Chapman in relief the rest of this season, then insert him into their already talented and baby-faced rotation in 2011.
Chapman's story fits neatly into the game's mythmaking niche.
A poor resident of rural Holguin province in baseball-mad Cuba, Chapman was 11 when the Baltimore Orioles made their historic Cuban visit in 1999.
Inspired, he dived into the sport - not that youngsters on the island of 11 million need much prodding. As he grew taller, stronger, lankier, his fastball and slider began to explode. Soon big-league officials were hearing whispers.
Chapman, who was earning between $20 and $40 a month playing in Cuba, attempted to defect at an international competition in 2008. He failed. Perhaps because of that, or maybe because he wasn't pitching well at the time, Cuba left him home from the Beijing Olympics that year.
But on July 1, 2009, at a tournament in the Netherlands, Chapman left his hotel, got into a car, and sped away. He showed up later in Andorra, where he established residency and got an agent.
His story and reputation well-known by then, he petitioned Major League Baseball for free-agent status and eventually signed a $30.25 million, six-year, back-end-loaded contract with the Reds.
In part of a season at triple-A Louisville, Chapman went 9-6 as a starter and reliever, compiling an ERA of 3.57, striking out 125 in 952/3 innings while walking 52. The Reds called him up last week.
Now all that awaits him are a dozen or so spectacular seasons and a plaque in Cooperstown, right?
Not so fast.
An American journalist who has seen him pitch often and is one of the world's top authorities on Cuban baseball has some doubts.
Peter Bjarkman contends Chapman, despite his astounding arm, is no cinch for success. The pitcher, Bjarkman said, has a poor work ethic and "subpar pitching intelligence." He added that in terms of being a complete pitcher, Chapman wasn't even in the top 10 in Cuba and probably wasn't worth what the Reds paid.
"Chapman was never actually an 'ace' on the Cuban national team as has often been reported," Bjarkman wrote in January on his website, BaseballdeCuba.com. "At the time of his defection last July in Rotterdam he was actually a member of a Cuba B squad . . . and would most likely not have been included in the top-echelon Cuban mound corps for the . . . World Cup event last September."
But the Reds see the enormous upside and will gladly take a $30 million chance that things work out.
"He's ridiculous," Reds closer Francisco Cordero said after Chapman's debut. "He's not pushing hard to throw 100. It's just so easy. It's natural."
Isn't that what they used to say about Roy Hobbs?