"We're all freaks": Inside One of the Frontier League’s Best Bullpens

By Zach Browning

 

Carsen Plumadore seems to always have something to say. Sometimes he’s telling a story about someone he knows. Other times, he’s debating the most unbreakable records in baseball, reminiscing about high school or arguing over MLB The Show.

Around him, the rest of the Windy City ThunderBolts’ bullpen joins in, adding jokes and stories of their own.

Then someone gets the call. The conversation stops. A reliever grabs a baseball. Bullpen catcher Mike Kowalczyk gets up. The joking gives way to silence.

“Everyone just doesn’t really talk to you anymore,” reliever Zach Cameron said. “You just grab a ball, you grab Mike and you get throwing and just kind of do your thing.”

For as much fun as the ThunderBolts’ relievers have together beyond the foul line, they’ve been all business between them this season. Entering August, Windy City’s bullpen owned the third-best bullpen ERA in the Frontier League and the league’s lowest opponent batting average, helping turn what entered the season as one of the club’s biggest question marks into one of its greatest strengths.

Spend a few innings in the ThunderBolts’ bullpen, though, and it quickly becomes clear those numbers aren’t simply a product of talent. They’re the product of a group that knows exactly who it is.

Ask any of the relievers what separates this year’s group from most others around the Frontier League and they’ll all point to the same thing: nobody is normal.

One hitter might see a sidearming right-hander one inning, followed by a 6-foot-3 left-hander with a mid-90s fastball the next. After that comes a 6-foot-6 over-the-top right-hander or another reliever with a changeup that breaks nearly two feet. 

“Nobody is a stock pitcher. We’re all very different. We’re all freaks. Nobody is normal. You won’t see another [bullpen] like ours,” Plumadore said. “If you look at the different charts, nothing is moving the same way from anybody.”

Left-hander Justin Lovell agreed. “We don’t have any typical-looking pitchers in our bullpen,” he said. “We have a bunch of freaks, like a bunch of I guess weirdos in there. It’s worked really well for us having different looks that teams aren’t used to.”

Cameron prefers a different description. Instead of “freaks,” he calls the bullpen a collection of “Swiss Army knives.”

Whatever they call themselves, the results have been difficult to ignore. Every inning presents a different look, forcing opposing hitters to continually adjust rather than settle into a rhythm. 

For the relievers, that’s by design. But being different is only part of the equation. Just as important is that everyone knows when their name is likely to be called.

From the moment the ThunderBolts assembled during spring training, the bullpen began settling into defined roles. Plumadore and Cameron often bridge the gap from starting pitcher to the back end of the bullpen. If the Bolts need someone to escape an early jam, one of those two usually gets the call.

Matthew Bohnert can slide into that role as well, particularly against a string of left-handed hitters, as can Blaise Wilcenski. The late innings typically belong to Lovell, Noah Manning and Carter Delaney.

That clarity has allowed each reliever to embrace his role rather than chase another one.

Plumadore, for example, knows he isn’t usually pitching in the ninth inning. He’s also perfectly content with that. Instead, he takes pride in the details that often go unnoticed.

“I take a lot of pride in not giving up stolen bases, keeping runners where they are, bailing my pitchers out of situations that have happened to them, not letting their runners score, stuff like that,” Plumadore said. “I love my job.”

Defined roles are common throughout professional baseball. Keeping the same group together long enough for everyone to settle into those roles is not.

Roster turnover is part of life in the Frontier League. Relievers are signed, released and traded throughout the season, often forcing teams to rebuild their bullpens on the fly.

The ThunderBolts have largely avoided that. Outside of a few mid-season additions and Manning’s stint on the injured list, the core of Windy City’s bullpen has remained intact from Opening Day through the dog days of summer. Cameron, Plumadore, Lovell, Bohnert and Delaney have all spent the season together, allowing the bullpen to develop a level of familiarity that’s uncommon in independent baseball.

Cameron knows the difference firsthand. Before joining the ThunderBolts this season, the veteran right-hander pitched for the Ottawa Titans, where the bullpen door rarely stopped revolving.

“It’s allowed everyone to be really comfortable,” Cameron said of the Bolt’s bullpen continuity. “Because in my experience last year in the Ottawa bullpen, when we had all that roster turnover, that’s when it’s like, ‘Am I next?’”

That uncertainty can change the way a pitcher attacks hitters. 

“[With Windy City], guys are pitching to win and to go out there and compete, as opposed to feeling like their job is on the line and they’re pitching to not make mistakes,” Cameron said. 

Plumadore has seen the same confidence grow throughout the season. 

Rather than worrying about statistics, the relievers have narrowed their focus to one thing. 

“None of us know our numbers. None of us ever look,” Plumadore said. “[We] don’t really care. I just have to do my job, and I’ll be okay.”

The success of the ThunderBolts’ bullpen this season has been built on different arm angles, defined roles and continuity. 

It has also been built on a lot of conversation. Ask anyone in the ThunderBolts’ bullpen who talks the most, and the answer comes without hesitation: Carsen Plumadore.

“By a significant margin,” Plumadore admitted with a laugh. “I just have the most stories, probably. That’s what it comes down to a lot of the time.”

His stories aren’t usually about baseball. Cameron has noticed the same thing.

“He knows a guy who did everything,” Cameron said. “He knows a guy who did this one time. He knows a story that reminds him of a time when this happened. He’s got [a story] for everything.”

Those conversations can go just about anywhere.

One night, the relievers debated which baseball records will never be broken, bouncing between Nolan Ryan’s career strikeout mark and Ricky Henderson’s stolen base record 

Other nights, they find themselves reliving their “stupid good” high school careers or arguing over MLB The Show.

“We try not to focus purely on baseball all the time,” Lovell said. “We try to get to know each other outside of baseball, and that’s a perfect opportunity for us to become closer like that.”

Like any bullpen, this one has developed its own traditions.

Most of the relievers have unofficially claimed the same seats every night. In “deuces wild” situations, Plumadore and Lovell rub their hats. Delaney answers only to “C” the moment he crosses the foul line to enter a game, a nickname not born from his role as closer, but from the night he wrote a single letter on a Steak ‘n Shake order and proudly claimed it when an employee called out, “Order for the letter C.”

For most of the game, that’s what the ThunderBolts’ bullpen looks and sounds like. A group of friends trading stories, debating baseball and keeping each other loose. 

Then the signal comes from the dugout. The conversations end. A reliever grabs a baseball. The joking stops.

It’s time to get three outs.