Cloutiers Game 5 Perfect Game
“Coming up next - Louisville looks to snap a 79 season title drought as they return to the number 5 ranked Elk Grove in a win or take all Game 5. Colonels. Demons. Right after this.”
Keenan Cloutier had already made his mark as one of the most prominent celebrities in the Ohio Valley. Half the kids across the state of Kentucky had posters of him on their wall. He’d proven to be one of the greatest Colonels to ever step on the mound, a childhood dream of his.
Growing up in the Louisville suburbs, he had gone to games regularly ever since he could walk. As he grew older, he started obsessing over every player, every stat, every trade, and the history of this team. He witnessed numerous solid seasons that fell short but loved reading about the ‘66 Dream Team that took it all. His grandfather, who was a child at the time, would tell him stories of the crosstown series and witnessing their win over the Legends in game 3. But it all seemed too distant in the past to be relevant anymore. Decades of playoff disappointment made this team feel cursed. They hadn’t even won a league title since 87, and numerous teams worth less had won multiple titles since then. As he glanced up at the broadcast in the locker room, all of these memories flooded into his brain. This team was their only chance. His years of being a diehard, his whole career, everything, was on the line. Regardless of his career, however he did in this game would be remembered forever.
Then, the words of his grandfather came into his head and cleared all his thoughts. He passed away during Keenan’s rookie season before the Colonels picked him up.
“Don’t do it for others, don’t do it for yourself, do it for the game. Baseball is something that you have loved your whole life, don’t let the joy get overtaken by the pressure others put on you. Just go out there and play ball.”
He remembered this moment like it was yesterday right after he got the call that he was going to make his debut with Gainesville. His parents both passed away in a car accident just a few years prior, so his grandfather was all the family he had left. The memories of wiffle ball, tee ball, little league, and his whole youth career flooded his mind. He started to cry, not tears of pain, but tears of joy. Each tear represented a different memory of his childhood. That’s when the words meant something. Suddenly, his stress faded. He was gonna do it for the child inside him (no diddy) who dreamed about this moment for his whole life.
Luckily, any little stress left he had was gone once he trotted on the mount for the first time. He had a three run lead thanks to Ethridge and Roach. He got into a groove early, striking out his first batter of the game and retiring his next twelve, including his second and third strikeouts back to back to close out the fourth. He was composed, didn’t let his positivity show but was smiling inside. He had a five run lead to work with now that didn’t show signs of stopping. He was playing with house money at this point.
It wasn’t until he retired six more including two more strikeouts to close out the sixth that anyone noticed what was happening. He had retired his first eighteen straight. Only nine more outs to go, but everyone knew these were the hardest nine to get. He only came close to a no-hitter once, but he let up a walk in the 7th and a hit with two outs to go in the 9th in high school ball. This wasn’t a high school regular season game though, it was Game 5 of the World Series. All the eyes were on him. But he stayed composed even though his grandfather's words were beginning to fade.
The seventh wasn’t great. He let up a deep fly ball to Pryor that had a chance of sailing over the wall, but it died short on the warning track for one out. He got the next two easily and had six more to go.
Word of the potential Game 5 perfecto spread. Fans rushed to their TVs who weren’t already watching the game. Social media was blowing up. The announcers were in disbelief.
Screw the perfect game, not even a no-hitter had ever happened in the World Series in the 134 year history of this game. Much less a perfect game. From the first World Series in Season 2 to St. John's record breaking eighth title just one year ago, nobody in between had ever done it. One hit games happened but were usually flooded by walks. And Cloutier was six outs away from getting it done.
In the eight, Weinstein went down looking for the first out. It was his seventh. By this point, he was freaking out but tried to stay composed. The next batter hit a weird knuckling liner to center that was luckily caught for two. Byrnes worked a 3-2 count but got on top of a fastball up high and grounded it out to end the eight. Three more outs.
The only thing Cloutier had going for him was the fact that his offense got two men on in the top of the ninth. The whole stadium was standing at this point. Regardless of what teams the fans were rooting for, everyone knew how incredible this moment had the potential to be. When Seymour flew out to center, he knew his time was up and made his way back to the mound. Three more outs.
Falcon was a tough first batter. He got on base at an elite level and was the type of guy to squeeze it through the gap and ruin history. On a 2-1 count, he felt his fingers slip, causing the ball to skip in the dirt and roll to the backstop. Everyone knew the nerves were getting to him, and he knew it too. But Cloutier stayed composed. He threw a fastball down the middle for strike two. On a full count, Falcon pulled a grounder up the line right to Purcell. Two more left.
Oshea wasn’t a power hitter at all, so Cloutier tried to go more aggressive with spin to get weak contact. But on a 1-1 count, his world almost shattered. He threw a curveball but it hung into the zone and Oshea squared it up. The crack of the bat was the last thing he wanted to hear. As he turned around, his world felt like it was in slow motion. Pena was running down the ball to try to close the gap but it felt too little, too late. He watched in fear, in pain, in shock.
“The 1-1, and Ochea drives it deep to right center, in the gap goes Pena, and he MAKES THE RUNNING PLAY! What a game saving catch for Addison Pena and there's one out to go!”
Cloutier felt bailed out. But he realized that a bit of luck was exactly what he needed. History was one out away from being witnessed, and all he needed to do was get out the 9-hitter, Trevion Gallegos.
The first pitch to Gallegos was a fastball upstairs for strike one. The call was followed by cheers that were deafening. The stadium felt it would collapse. After he threw a slider for strike two, reality hit him - he was one strike away.
In this moment, the words of his grandpa flowed back into his brain. To do it for the game and not for anyone else. His world faded. All he was was his glove, the ball, his catcher, and the batter. Everything else turned white. He remembered his coaches advice, his training, everything it took to get here. And in that moment, he remembered that Louisville was one strike away from all his childhood dreams. The perfect game didn’t matter to him anymore. He just wanted to bring a title home to Louisville. His catcher gave him the sign. Fastball. Up and inside. His specialty pitch. It wasn’t the fastest but the location was something he had worked on for ages. As soon as he let the ball go, he knew it was hitting the corner. Absolute perfect pitch.
“The 0-2, upstairs STRIKE THREE CALLED! OH MY GOD! THERE IT IS! BASEBALL IMMORTALITY! KEENAN CLOUTIER! PERFECT GAME IN GAME 5 OF THE WORLD SERIES AND THE LOUISVILLE COLONELS WIN THEIR FIRST TITLE IN 79 YEARS! SEASON 135 CHAMPIONS OF BASEBALL!”
He watched in slow motion as Gallegos looked back, the umpire rang him up, and the catcher ran up and tackled him on the mound. The bench flooded, the stadium was loud, and the baseball world was sent into a frenzy. The first ever perfect game in the World Series. And one to win the first title for the city of Louisville in 79 long seasons. The Colonels were back on top of the baseball world. And he made history doing it.
After the mob, the interviews, the champagne, he went back to his locker after everyone else went home. He sat in the locker room still in shock at everything that had happened. Fans were waiting outside for him in order to cheer him on, but he didn’t want any of that at the moment. He was on top of the world and wanted to celebrate at home with his family. But as soon as he was about to leave, his phone rang. He picked up. It was his agent, Scott Boras.
“Yo, about to head home, what up man”
“Hey Keenan, just a reminder that bidding ends tonight and two teams have offers in for you. Hate to ruin the moment but this kinda urgent if you wanna stay in Louisville.”
Cloutier hung up immediately. He didn’t wanna think of it at all. It wasn’t like Scott was good anyway to him. He called back.
“Keenan, you mean to hang up? We gotta talk about…”
“You’re fired”, Cloutier interrupted. He hung up the phone, smiled, and went home. His family was all that mattered to him at the moment. Fast and Furious taught him that.