the music pour out of him, perfect, crystalline, as though he were playing a song that had already been written?

And in Joe’s mind, in Barry’s mind, baseball — or at least pitching — was the same sort of Spiritual Art.

Barry was at his best when he was blank, less a man and more a vessel. He had written a reminder inside his cap: LET IT DO THE WORK THROUGH ME. Those words were pressed against his forehead every time he took the mound. Barry could make himself better than he might have been given the power of his own belief, but ultimately he was just an instrument to be played. So long as he remembered that much about himself — so long as he felt his way throughto a mathematical proof in the winter of 2006. It’s that in the summer of 2011, he has become one: Sometimes the sum of faith and belief and love still isn’t nearly enough.

Chris Jones is a Writer at Large for Esquire and is a regular contributor to Grantland. You can find him on Twitter here: @MySecondEmpire.

Previously from Chris Jones:

The Art of the Body Shot

The Lost Magic of Bartolo Colon

Ayrton Senna and the Sports Documentary of the Year

The Sad State of the Blue Jays

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