David Bednar Is Unhittable at Any Speed

The Pirates, you might have heard, are in first place at the end of April. Not only that, they’ve played like a first-place team and then some, outscoring opponents by 48 runs in 29 games. Heading into Sunday, their pitching staff had the second-best ERA and FIP in the National League. Their offense had posted the second-best wRC+ in the NL as well; based on the first month of the season, the only thing fluky about them has been the names on the backs of their jerseys. Maybe they’ll cool off, maybe they won’t, but full credit to them for an exceptional first month of the season.

So why am I singling out David Bednar?

Heading into the season, Bednar was one of the few Pirates who it was safe to assume would be good. Carlos Santana and Andrew McCutchen are big names, but they’re getting up there in years. Bryan Reynolds would be good, most likely, but perhaps not in Pirates colors. But Bednar is a rock. He was an All-Star last year, for God’s sake.

Except being an All-Star means different things depending on team and position. I think back to first base in the NL in the late 2000s, when Albert Pujols had the position locked down and Ryan Howard, Prince Fielder, Joey Votto, Derrek Lee, Adrián González, and Carlos Delgado had to scramble to claim what was sometimes the only backup spot.

On the other end of the spectrum is the relief pitcher for a terrible team. All-Star rules dictate — correctly, in my opinion — that each team must have at least one representative. For the most truly woeful teams, that’s usually a relief pitcher. It’s not uncommon for a bad team to have a closer put up big save totals, since a team that doesn’t score a lot of runs will have more close leads to defend. (Those of you who rode late Expos-era Ugueth Urbina to fantasy baseball glory at the turn of the century know what I’m talking about.) Failing that, even a 100-loss team can usually find one middle reliever who lucks into a 2.00 ERA over 35 first-half innings.

Then there’s 2003 Mike Williams, who was the Pirates’ sole All-Star representative for the second consecutive season. At the time of the break, he had 25 saves but a 6.44 ERA and 19 walks against 22 strikeouts in 36 1/3 innings. (Brian Giles was hitting .307/.444/.512 at the break that year; what the hell were they thinking?)

It seems like this happens to the Pirates more than most. There’s a Gerrit Cole in here, and I maintain that Mark Melancon is the most underrated closer of the 21st century. But even when they get multiple players on the All-Star team, the Pirates still send absolutely baffling pitchers.

Duke led the NL in losses and had a 4.5 K/9 ratio the year he made the All-Star team. I didn’t know who Meek was until All-Star rosters were announced in 2010. Absolutely wild stuff.

What does this have to do with Bednar? Not that much, to be honest, but it’s always fun to remember some guys. (Apart from Vázquez, who is best forgotten.)

Last year, Bednar could’ve been dismissed as more of a Meek, but now he’s a full-fledged Melancon. Like, this is a lot of red:

In 13 innings, Bednar has allowed a single earned run and just a single walk. He’s converted nine out of 10 save opportunities, and the one time he did blow a save, the Pirates came back and won in the bottom of the ninth. Bednar is first among relievers in WAR and fourth in FIP.

When I went back and looked at Bednar’s work this season, I found myself thinking, “Wow, there are a lot of Reds hitters in these video clips.” Sure enough, just four of his 13 appearances have come against a team that’s currently at or above .500, so that’s a caveat worth remembering. But you can only beat the team that’s put in front of you, and he’s just crushing his opponents. His whiff rate, 43.4%, is third-best in baseball among pitchers with at least 50 batters faced. That’s impressive in its own right, but it’s also up 10.1 points since last season, the seventh-biggest increase in the majors.

Where is he getting those whiffs? Outside the zone. While Bednar’s out-of-zone whiff rate is well above-average, it’s not spectacular. But he’s getting hitters to swing at absolute trash, inducing them at a league-leading 41.7% of the pitches he throws outside the zone. For context, Max Muncy is only swinging at 48.0% of pitches he sees in the zone. Bednar is also throwing more first-pitch strikes this year and working ahead in the count; only 36 of the 172 pitches he’s thrown this season (20.9%) have come with the hitter holding the advantage. But he’s getting hitters to swing at anything; in addition to his league-leading chase rate, he’s 21st in in-zone swing rate, giving him the highest overall swing rate of any pitcher in baseball. Of the 50 batters he’s faced this season, only three have managed to run three-ball counts, and all five of the three-ball pitches he has thrown this year have been swung at. (That one walk was an intentional walk of Yordan Alvarez.)

There’s a delightful directness to Bednar’s way of pitching, because he’s tying hitters in knots using the oldest trick in the relief pitcher’s book. Here’s a three-pitch strikeout of Jason Vosler from April 21. He starts off the plate appearance with a 96.2 mph four-seamer at (or near, at any rate) the top outside corner of the strike zone for a called strike one:

Then Bednar comes back with an absolutely frightful curveball down and in for strike two. I love this kind of pitch, the hard-breaking slow curve, though Vosler would probably disagree. Bednar’s curveball only spins at about 2,400 rpm, not even near the top of the leaderboard, and it has little horizontal movement. But watching it gives you that tingle in the corners of your mouth that you get when you bite into a lime.

What makes Bednar’s curveball so effective isn’t the movement; it’s the speed differential to the fastball. Among pitchers who have thrown at least 100 pitches thrown this year, including at least one four-seamer and at least one curve, he is ninth in velocity differential between the two pitches.

You’ll notice that a few of the pitchers who have this kind of velocity differential are starters who only break the hook out a few times a game. (Plus Akin, who’s thrown one curveball all year.) Work in the mid-90s most of the time, and the batter won’t be ready for mid-to-low 70s; he’ll either be too confused to take the bat off his shoulder or come out of his shoes swinging at a pitch that won’t cross the plate until the batter’s helmet has fallen off his head and hit the ground. Only that’s what Bednar’s doing every plate appearance. It’s what Craig Kimbrel does. (Or rather, what prime Craig Kimbrel did.) The difference in speed and vertical break between fastball and curveball is so great a batter just can’t cover both. Add Bednar’s splitter to the equation, and it’s small wonder that hitters so frequently think they can hit what’s coming and are so frequently proved wrong.

Which brings us back to poor Jason Vosler. Having just seen 96 up and away and 77 at his knees, he’s completely handcuffed when Bednar comes back up and in with another fastball for the coup de grace:

There’s a lot to be surprised by in Pittsburgh this season, but not Bednar. This is just throwing strikes and changing speed and eye level. It’s always worked, and it always will.