Mason Miller didn’t look like himself the moment Jackson Chourio entered the game in the bottom of the ninth game of Game 2 of the NLDS. After making quick work of three Brewers batters in the bottom of the eighth inning, Miller was trusted to come back in the ninth and protect the Padres’ 3-2 lead. It was only the third time this season that he was called upon to throw six outs, and by the time he had recorded two outs in the ninth, he had also issued three walks. Baseball’s most untouchable pitcher was untouched, but he was nonetheless in trouble.
None of this is meant to diminish what Chourio did next. It’s simply establishing that baseball is a game that plays out as a series of discrete moments that aren’t necessarily connected to what came before it. The first three batters Miller faced were blown away, then three more took advantage of him having trouble locating his slider. Chourio watched all this from the dugout and the on-deck circle, and as he headed to home plate with two outs and the bases loaded and his team on a run, he had to decide how to attack Miller. Baseball’s most indomitable relief pitcher had just handed out three free passes, and it’s very rare that something as good as reaching base comes from a swing at one of Miller’s pitches. A good time to keep the bat on your shoulder, right?
Miller also had to make a decision. He could decide to let what had already happened in the inning affect how he approached Chourio’s at-bat, or he could forget all about it. He remembered he was Mason, damn Miller, the guy who struck out 129 batters in 70 regular-season innings and allowed 13 earned runs all year. He could decide that whatever had just happened didn’t matter, and that all he had to do for his team to win was pull one back.
Miller sharpened quickly. The first pitch of the bat was a 101 mph fastball that flew through the inside corner, heading toward Chourio’s hands. Chourio could have looked down the field, hoping for yet another ball that would give him a few percentage points of batting influence. Instead, he took a big hack and missed, establishing that he wasn’t there to try to draw a walk to tie the game. He was going to try to win the match.
The second pitch was a 102 mph fastball just off the outside edge of the plate, which Chourio managed to give up. It was the perfect setup for the next two throws. Miller followed the ball with another 102 mph heater, this one right down the middle of the plate. Chourio took another huge shot and missed. The next one came in at 104 mph, was placed perfectly in the outside corner and was fouled by Chourio.
Miller’s fastball absolutely kills. Batters have hit .176 against him this year, and he has a 36.5 slugging percentage. It doesn’t have quite the same absurd run value as Miller’s slider, but it sits above 100 mph and is certainly one of the most dominant pitches in baseball. He’s especially nasty when he’s thrown on a two-strike count, gets to 104, and peppers the outside corner. There’s nothing a hitter on the planet is supposed to be able to do with that pitch, other than watch it pass for a strike or take a humiliatingly weak cut and go sit down. Chourio had just enough to stay alive.
But you know what really kills? Miller’s slider, which might be the best pitch in the game. Miller throws it about half the time and no one ever touches it. He had a 56 percent whiff rate in 2026 and hitters had a .170 wOBA against him. This is a particularly nasty throw to throw in two strikes. According to Statcast, Miller has thrown 195 sliders in two strikes this year, and hitters have chased them out of the zone 55 percent of the time. Miller threw a bad one at Chourio. It started low and came in at 89 mph, and must have looked like the fastball Chourio had just fouled to stay alive. It was the kind of pitch that required a swing and miss almost as a matter of course – Chourio had just been forced to guard the bottom of the zone against a fastball, so how could he resist the urge to do it again and not swing right over the top of that pitch as he dove through the bottom of the strike zone? Somehow he did it and got a 2-2 count to work with.
“Error” is probably too strong a word to use for Miller’s next pitch, but he lifted a fastball to the outer half of the plate that Chourio hit through the right side of the infield. He scored the winning run and ended one of the best high-leverage sticks you’ll ever see. Mow down 104 in the corner, spit on the deadliest slider in the game, have the courage to swing four times – you never see a hitter exert so much control over Miller. Chourio, however, bent the batting attack and the game to his will and was rewarded with one of the loudest stadium roars a baseball game has ever produced.
It’s the kind of noise that only a crowd that has just witnessed what must have seemed like a series of miracles would accumulate. It was a miracle to even get runners on base against Miller, it was another to bring Chourio to the plate with two outs, and it was even more miraculous to see him win the bat and the game. These are moments that fans live to see and players live to produce; they come so rarely that all anyone can expect to do when they arrive is scream at the top of their lungs.
Gn headline
