Romine said in an interview last season that it bothered him that he had been competing against a player using P.E.D.s. Reminded recently of those comments, Romine said they were normal emotions for someone in his position, adding: “I don’t have any ill will toward anybody. I wish him the best. You have the value that you make for yourself. I wasn’t doing anything to build my stock into anything more than I was, which was a backup and a Triple-A player.”

Cervelli said before the series began that Romine had never expressed any antipathy toward him.

“He has the right to say anything he wants,” Cervelli said. “I don’t get mad. If he feels that way about me, it’s cool. He’s got the right to say that. I know why I did it, and that’s it. I don’t have to tell anyone. He has the opportunity now, and he’s always had the opportunity to play with the Yankees. He’s a good prospect. He’s an amazing catcher.”

The players were cordial Friday night, acknowledging each other but doing little more.

The unforgiving nature of the baseball business is something that Romine has long been versed in. His older brother, Andrew, is a utility infielder with the Detroit Tigers. Their father, Kevin Romine, was an outfielder for the Boston Red Sox in the late 1980s and early ’90s, when he was a teammate of Austin’s position coach with the Yankees, Tony Pena.

“I remember when he was born,” Pena said of Austin Romine.

Kevin Romine got his shot with the Red Sox when center fielder Ellis Burks was hurt in 1989. He filled in capably and found himself as the opening day right fielder in 1990, hitting two doubles off Detroit’s Jack Morris to help Roger Clemens win at Fenway Park. Less than a month later, the Red Sox traded for Tom Brunansky, who had the power that Romine lacked. Two years later, he returned home to Southern California and became a police officer.

“It’s a very — I don’t want to say cutthroat business — but it’s realism,” Kevin Romine said in a phone interview. “What have you done for me today? You are who you are. You don’t try to make excuses and you try to be better. But the game owes you nothing.”

In Austin Romine’s mind, there is little mystery about why he is ready now for the opportunity his father told his sons would always come, whether it was four at-bats, four games or four weeks.

No longer is he “an out at the plate,” as he says he was in 2013, when he hit .207 while serving as a backup most of the season after Cervelli broke his hand. He no longer is trying to pull every pitch, and he is using the whole field. His home run and both of his doubles have been to right field, and he has pulled only five of the 33 balls he has put in play.