SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – Sergio Romo would push play, just to remind himself it really was him.





He'd push play and feel the night air in Detroit. Push play and shake Buster Posey into that fastball, the final pitch of 2012. Push play and see the mitt and feel the baseball come off his fingers, maybe just off center, so the fastball – at 89 mph all his frail body could generate – ran to the middle of the plate. And the faces. All those happy faces.

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Then he'd look at his son, 6-year-old Rilen, and nod to the television, almost as if he needed confirmation.

"Who's that, mijo?"

"That's you, dad."

Five sliders he'd thrown to Miguel Cabrera, the best hitter in the game, using the grip his own father had taught him in college. The fastball – the grip, the will behind it, the choice to throw it then and there – was all his.

In the 10th inning of Game 4 of the World Series, Sergio Romo would trust the fighter in himself and the journey to that moment. He'd been a junior-college pitcher, then transferred to a Division II school. He'd been drafted in the 28th round, 852nd overall, in 2005. He was too small. He didn't throw hard enough.

His father, Francisco, had told him, "Never take for granted what you know is achievable, never attainable."

They were driving from Brawley, Calif., where Sergio was raised, to Phoenix for his first minor-league spring training. Many had covered those miles, Francisco said. Baseball was achievable, this was proof of that. But, attainable? That was for Sergio to decide. He would have to work for it. Believe in it. Trust that good things awaited.

"To be honest," Sergio said, "I was just kind of tired of people calling me a punk all the time."

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Romo had saved Games 2 and 3 of the World Series, both with two-run leads. The San Francisco Giants led the series, three games to none. While that might appear secure to most, if the Giants lost Game 4, they would get Justin Verlander in Game 5, and then there'd be no telling. No, they'd have get it done in the chill and howling wind at Comerica Park, in extra innings, holding a 4-3 lead, the rain coming. Sharpen the knife, leave Verlander on the bench, get out of town. That was the plan.

Along came Romo one more time. He was the closer because Brian Wilson blew out his elbow and Santiago Casilla couldn't hold the job. He liked to think he'd never taken a second in that Giants uniform for granted, so much so that he'd sobbed after games that clinched the NL West, the division series and the league championship series. Now he'd be on the mound, two out, Cabrera waving his bat, what was left of the spirit of Tigers fans in his ears. Those five sliders got him to a 2-and-2 count, the fifth of which Cabrera fouled with a swing that suggested he was zeroing in.

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