The Alarming Stillness of Shohei Ohtani

Sometimes Shohei Ohtani pulls his elbows gently to the left. He stands there at the plate still as a statue, the bat way out in front of him and his arms spread wide like they’re wrapped around an invisible trash can lid. Sometimes, every once in a while, he’ll gently rock the whole package – the elbows, the invisible trash can lid, the handle of the bat, his broad shoulders – to the left, back toward the catcher, the bat head dipping to describe a quiet circle in the air. And then he rocks the whole package to the right again, just as gently, toward the pitcher. It’s a matter of an inch or two. It’s the only sign that he’s human.
Once he’s settled into his batting stance, that little reset, rocking back and then forward like he’s absorbing a wave that no one else on the field is attuned enough to feel, is the only movement Ohtani will make. He doesn’t have a bat waggle. He doesn’t flex and unflex his fingers like Max Muncy. He doesn’t flare his back elbow like Bobby Witt Jr. He doesn’t rock his shoulders like Alex Bregman, lean back like Rowdy Tellez, twitch his hips like Juan Soto, fire his back knee toward the pitcher like Marcus Semien, or test the dirt with his front foot like Cal Raleigh. He’s a mountain, unapproachable, indecipherable. Read the rest of this entry »










