Adam Wainwright and Yadier Molina revisit their first start, and it’s hilarious
Posted by
JD (aka Jason Dean)
Dec 20 '22, 11:33
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By Katie Woo Sep 13, 2022
ST. LOUIS — Adam Wainwright is already sitting down when Yadier Molina pushes open the double doors leading out of the Cardinals clubhouse and into the lobby.
“Hermano,” the pitcher says, offering up a fist bump to Molina as he walks by.
“Hermano,” the catcher responds, returning the fist bump before pulling up a chair.
Hermano is the Spanish word for “brother,” a term both Molina and Wainwright regularly use to describe their relationship. They are here to look at a family album of sorts. As Wainwright and Molina prepare to break the MLB record for most starts by one battery, they agreed to sit down with The Athletic to revisit the day their connection was born truly. On a laptop screen now is their first start together, on April 6, 2007.
Wainwright was 25 then and Molina was 24. “Just a couple of kids,” Wainwright says.
Now they are older and wiser and poised on Wednesday to break a major-league mark with start No. 325, one more than pitcher Mickey Lolich and catcher Bill Freehan of the Detroit Tigers.
How long have these two Cardinals been together? They are about to watch a game from 15 years ago, against the Astros at Minute Maid Park, back when Houston still played in the National League Central. Tony La Russa was the Cardinals manager, Scott Rolen was the third baseman and Albert Pujols started at first base.
When asked what the two remember about their first start together, Wainwright doesn’t miss a beat.
“Astros, seven innings, one run, three hits,” he says, rattling off his stat line. (So close. Wainwright actually allowed five hits that day.)
Molina, on the other hand, glances down, looks up and shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he admits, before breaking out into a laugh.
The picture is grainy and the resolution is pixelated, but once the video starts to play, it’s easy to identify a young Wainwright. Clad in a Cardinals practice jersey as he stands on the infield track at Busch Stadium III, Wainwright is just a few days into the 2007 season. The last time he’d taken a major-league mound was six months prior when he secured the final out of the Cardinals’ 2006 World Series win.
After the final out that night, Wainwright, then the team’s closer, leaped into Molina’s arms before the rest of the team converged on top of them, a dogpile on the pitcher’s mound.
Nobody knew at the time just how symbolic that embrace would become.
Though Molina had caught Wainwright many times when the latter was a starting pitcher in the Cardinals minor-league system, their true bond begins here, with this milestone start. As the video plays, it cuts to a scene clipped from the pregame show. There stands Wainwright participating in an interview a few days earlier.
“I haven’t been overly nervous or anything, just going to prepare like it is a normal start,” Wainwright says. “I know it’s my first one I’ve ever had in the big leagues, so there’s some meaning there, it’s special for me. But at the same time, I’m not going to make more of it than it is. I’ve been in the big leagues, we’ve won the World Series, it doesn’t get much better than that.
“Now my job is to help the team win.”
Upon watching that clip, the now 41-year-old Wainwright looks up from the video clip, leans back in his chair, arches his eyebrows and nods.
“Cocky,” he smiles. “All right.”
Soon after, the voice of longtime Cardinals play-by-play broadcaster Dan McLaughlin begins to narrate the scene. “The roof is open at Minute Maid Park and it’s a gorgeous night for baseball … “
When the game gets underway, the Cardinals were no match for Houston starter Wandy Rodriguez, going down in order in the top of the first. Then, as the Fox Sports outro starts to play, McLaughlin intones: “Wainwright, and his starting debut, when we come back.”
When the broadcast resumes, the screen cuts to the Astros lineup. Wainwright was slated to face Craig Biggio, Mike Lamb and Lance Berkman, an All-Star who finished third in National League MVP voting in 2006 and would go on to win a World Series with the Cardinals in 2011.
“Wow, look at that lineup,” Molina remarks. “Look at Wandy Rodriguez!”
But the catcher doesn’t have too much time to marvel, as the broadcast cuts straight to Biggio, already standing in the box, and Wainwright, about to deliver his first pitch.
It’s a called strike one, a belt-high fastball as Molina doesn’t even have to move his glove.
“That’s nasty,” Molina says as if he’s catching the ball in real-time.
Wainwright quickly works Biggio to an 0-2 count, displaying an assured, focused demeanor, one Cardinals fans have grown quite familiar with. Biggio fouls off a fastball that Molina signals he wants low; Wainwright leaves it up just enough to give Biggio another chance.
Still, Wainwright is impressed by his heat.
“Look at that velo on that,” he says to Molina. “A hundred probably? Right? 100 miles per hour?”
Molina scoffs. “Eighty-nine,” he remarks, which provokes a loud laugh from Wainwright.
Biggio fouls off a slider, and Molina signals for Wainwright’s signature pitch, his 12-6 curveball. It’s the first curveball he’s thrown of the night, and it’s a 74 mph beauty. Wainwright floats it into Biggio, with the ball seemingly arching high out of the strike zone before plopping perfectly into Molina’s glove positioned belt-high in the middle of the zone. In fact, Wainwright thinks it’s a strike before it even reaches the plate and begins to strut off the mound.
The only problem? There’s no strike-three call. The pitch is ruled a ball. And right on cue, Molina and Wainwright have something to say about it.
“Where’s that at?!” Molina yells at the screen with his hands up, just a second before Wainwright exclaims “I need that pitch!” Quickly, Molina turns and inquires, “Who’s the home-plate umpire?”
It’s Jim Wolf. Molina nods, while Wainwright is still shaking his head at the clip.
“Eventually Biggio is going to get out, right?” Wainwright asks.
On the next pitch, Biggio digs for a slider and pops it up. On the screen, Molina jumps up, tosses aside his catcher’s mask and secures the catch a few feet in front of home plate. The first out of Wainwright’s first career start is a putout to the catcher.
How fitting.
The video continues and soon there’s a graphic of the Cardinals’ defense. McLaughlin narrates each position around the horn, finishing with the catching spot.
“Molina, who should’ve won the Gold Glove last year, is behind the plate,” McLaughlin says.
“You know it, Dan,” retorts Molina, the nine-time Gold Glover.
Wainwright’s next batter results in a four-pitch walk, and even 15 years later, he’s perturbed by that. When his first fastball to Lamb slips out of his release point early, making for a non-competitive pitch, Wainwright shakes his head at his former self.
“Make an adjustment, 50,” he mutters.
Wainwright is still shaking his head three pitches later when Lamb takes his free 90 feet, clearing the way for Berkman.
“I don’t remember this at-bat,” he says. “I remember the walk but I don’t remember what happens here.”
Poking fun at his age, he adds: “I remember almost every pitch I’ve ever thrown, but it’s getting harder to remember that. And I can’t do that about anything else. I play golf and I can’t remember what I shot on the third hole.”
Molina, who characteristically enough, had been focusing on Berkman’s at-bat, breaks his concentration for just a moment.
“You look the same,” he says to Wainwright. “You haven’t changed.”
“Same ol’ ugly,” Wainwright smirks back. “Different delivery though.”
But the two quickly snap their attention back to the game after a borderline 1-1 breaking ball to Berkman is ruled low.
“Boy, where are those pitches?” former Cardinal pitcher and then-analyst Al Hrabosky wonders on the air.
“Really tight strike zone here in the first half,” McLaughlin adds.
As the banter between the commentators continues, Molina and Wainwright haven’t moved as they watch the screen. Both have their palms up, hands outstretched, signaling “Where did that miss?”
“Hey,” Wainwright says, turning to Molina. “I need you to talk to him,”
But Molina interrupts, taking the blame for the defensive job that falls short of the 41-year-old’s current standard.
“Good thing my framing’s gotten better,” Molina admits.
“Yeah, if you want to win Gold Gloves, you gotta frame better,” Wainwright deadpans.
Sure enough, Molina did communicate something to Wolf behind the plate, because the next pitch results in a somewhat delayed strike two call.
“There we go,” Molina nods in approval, happy with the adjustment made by his 24-year-old self.
Berkman fouls off Wainwright’s next pitch, a curveball that the esteemed hitter is struggling to time right.
“Man, that curveball used to be big,” Wainwright says, mimicking a rise, fall and a splat with his hand. ” It’s a little smaller, doesn’t spin as much as it used to.”
“What’s the velo on that?” Molina asks.
“Seventy-four,” Wainwright proudly proclaims.
“Now it’s like 60-something,” Molina laughs.
On the next pitch, Wainwright pumps in a 92 mph fastball that the left-handed Berkman turns on. Second baseman Adam Kennedy lays out for the groundball and makes a diving stop before flipping to shortstop David Eckstein, covering second. All signs point to an inning-ending double play, but Biggio slides hard into the bag, and Eckstein eats the throw, much to the chagrin of present-day Wainwright.
“Get tough, Eck!” Wainwright yells at the screen.
The pitcher doubles down on the replay. “Throw it! Scaredy cat.”
But Molina is already on to the next play, and he recognizes the batter before his name can appear on the graphic.
“Carlos Lee,” Molina declares, and immediately he has Wainwright’s attention.
“You should see my numbers off him in my career,” Wainwright says.
“They good?” Molina asks.
“Oh yeah, he’s like 3-for-30 off me, only because he got two hits off me the last time he ever faced me,” Wainwright answers, showing off his aforementioned photographic memory. “He was 1-for-27 going into his last game.”
Remarkably, Wainwright’s breakdown is nearly spot on. Lee finished his career 3-for-29 off Wainwright, and Lee did record two singles off Wainwright in his final two at-bats. And sure enough, Lee flew out to right field to end this threat. Wainwright and Molina emerged from their first inning as starting pitcher and catcher unscathed.
There are a few other pivotal moments of that game the pair want to watch. One comes in the top of the third when the Cardinals break open the scoring. When Wainwright is asked if he remembers how St. Louis scored, he immediately deflects to his catcher.
“I’m guessing this one got a hit?” he asks, gesturing with his thumb in Molina’s direction.
But it wasn’t Molina, who went 0-for-4 in the contest.
“No? Who did it?” a puzzled Wainwright asks again. He pauses for a moment before realization hits and he gasps.
“Did I get a hit? That’s right!” he exclaims.
“That’s right!” Molina exclaims at the same time.
The two then burst out laughing.
“Oh yeah, off Wandy,” Wainwright says with a smile. “I got a few hits off Wandy back in his day.”
Wainwright indeed put the Cardinals on the board in his first at-bat off Rodriguez. With So Taguchi standing on first, Wainwright pummeled the 1-0 offering from Rodriguez deep into center field. Minute Maid Park still possessed the raised hump of grass just before the fence, and that’s where Wainwright’s ball bounced, skipping up along the fence before center fielder Chris Burke could field it.
It was an RBI double for Wainwright. Or in Molina’s words, “a bomb.”
Fast forward to the bottom of the seventh, where the game reaches a crucial moment. The Cardinals lead 3-1 lead, but the Astros have runners on first and third with no outs and catcher Brad Ausmus at the plate.
On cue, McLaughlin delivers a prescient line.
“Ausmus, a guy that grounds into a bunch of double plays,” he says, “Usually among the league leaders.”
But Ausmus doesn’t swing on the next pitch. Instead, during Wainwright’s delivery, he squares up and lays down a squeeze bunt. With Burke barreling home from third base, Wainwright charges home, barehands the baseball and feeds it to Molina. The catcher lays down a swift tag on Burke before spinning and firing the ball to Pujols at first base.
One pitch, two outs, threat thwarted.
“An unbelievable double play turned by the Cardinals,” McLaughlin exclaims.
Wainwright leans back in his chair, looks at Molina and starts to snicker. Molina meets his gaze and smiles back.
“That’s pretty good,” he says, and the two knuckle-bump once more across the table.
They watch the replay multiple times.
“That’s as fine a play as you’ll ever see,” Hrabosky says.
“As you’ll ever see!” Wainwright echoes between laughs.
Even 15 years later, Wainwright remembers that squeeze play like it was yesterday.
“I’ll tell you what I remember about that play,” he says. “It was funny because we work on that play for hours in spring training. And going into the first series, we were working on that. And I said, I’ve just never even had to have to make this play before. Like we work so hard on it and it’s something I’ve never had to do.
“First game back, bam, there it was.”
Wainwright got out of that inning, his last, and earned the win as the Cardinals rolled to a 4-2 victory.
“I remember when I walked off that mound and got into the dugout, (then-pitching coach) Dave Duncan looked at me and said, ‘Now you’ve set the bar. Now you know what you’re capable of,’” Wainwright recalled.
Older and wiser, Adam Wainwright and Yadier Molina are poised to break a major-league mark with start No. 325 on Wednesday. That’s one more together than pitcher Mickey Lolich and catcher Bill Freehan of the Detroit Tigers.
But nobody would’ve imagined a legacy of this caliber. Beyond the field, their families are close and spend holidays together. Even now, as 40-somethings, the catcher and the pitcher will engage in shenanigans in the clubhouse, such as sneaking around the hallways and shooting each other with water pellet guns during postgame interviews.
“I mean at that time, we weren’t thinking about what was going to happen, what 16, 17 years later?” Molina says. “We were just focusing on winning games and glad we were in the big leagues.”
“I don’t even know if you can ever really think about that,” Wainwright adds. “I remember Kyle Lohse being on our team, and Lohse had 300 starts at one point. I was thinking, ‘That’s so many starts, I can’t even imagine getting 300 starts in the big leagues.’ Like, that’s crazy. And now? We’ve had more than that together.”
“I saw something on Twitter the other day, and it was like ‘Who is the best duo of all time?’ It had a bunch of really good players, like Manny Ramírez and David Ortiz. But we weren’t on the list. And I’m like ‘Why not? Why are we not on this list?’”
“Right?” Molina interjects.
“But I feel like once we break that record, everything’s going to change,” Wainwright says. “I think people will realize, holy crap, these guys? This is the battery right here.”
In St. Louis, they’re already there. Molina and Wainwright are as symbolic to the city as the Gateway Arch, two of the most beloved and revered players to ever don the Birds on the Bat. They still take the field for the Cardinals every fifth day. That they are able to do so alongside Pujols for one more season as he chases down 700 career home runs has helped make this year all the more special.
These times won’t last forever. Pujols and Molina will retire after the season. Wainwright’s contract is up, and he hasn’t disclosed what his future holds, or perhaps he hasn’t fully decided. With the end nearing, there’s no denying the impact this record will have on the organization, the city, the sport, and on each other.
“When you really look back on it, those are just a couple of kids on that video,” Wainwright says. “We’ve been together a long time. Won a lot of games together, and we already have the record for most wins as a battery, which is almost more important. But I’ll be glad when we have it and can just know. … No one is ever going to break that record.”
“No one,” Molina reiterates as he stands up to leave. There’s a pitcher’s meeting scheduled in a few minutes that requires both of them. As they exit the room, they do so somehow perfectly in sync, walking back through the double doors together.
Much has changed since Wainwright’s first start 15 years ago. Randy Flores, the left-handed reliever who notched the hold in relief that night, is now an assistant general manager and the Cardinals’ director of scouting. Skip Schumaker, who entered that game as a late-inning defensive replacement, now serves as the team’s bench coach. La Russa is still managing, albeit for the Chicago White Sox, and Ausmus is the bench coach for the Oakland A’s.
But on that early April evening in 2007, when Wainwright took the mound with Molina behind the dish, the two simply were hoping to play well enough for a victory.
The rest was history.
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