A soft crack sounded in his left elbow – no one heard it except him. But Tanner Scott understood: some things cannot be undone. In the stands, the fans cheered as they always did when he stepped onto the mound. But this time, the soldier’s heart sounded the alarm. And then, in the silent locker room, amid the familiar smell of hot balm and sweat, he left a trembling note…
“If this is the last time I pitch, please remember: I have never abandoned this team, not even one inning…”
“The Dodgers don’t need me to be perfect. Just be there when they need me – and I tried.”
That was the opening line of the letter.
Tanner Scott, who came to the Dodgers not with glory, but with doubt. The man who was not a star, but who saved the team 15 times in games when everything seemed to be falling apart. The man who is often called a “sidekick” or “a last resort” by experts is the one coach Dave Roberts trusts the most when the team is on the brink of collapse.
The night before the final game, he felt a sharp pain in his hand, but still asked to throw an inning. “I owe this team every pitch. They believed in me when no one else did,” Tanner told the pitching coach, choking up.
“I’m sorry I can’t be with you guys when the fall comes.”
The Dodgers’ bullpen is now like a battlefield full of wounded soldiers. Phillips is out for the season. Treinen is tired. Muncy has not returned. And now, losing Scott – the man who carried the bullpen with an iron will – is a painful blow not only to the team’s strategy, but also to the team’s spirit.
“He was the last one in, the last one out, always ready to pitch when everyone else was exhausted. He was the true Dodgers spirit,” — a teammate shared, his eyes red.
A man with a knight’s soul
Tanner Scott is not a media star, nor is he the type of player who likes the spotlight. But he has the heart of a modern-day warrior, quietly charging forward, silently enduring.
In the letter, he wrote:
“If the doctor is right, I may not have enough strength to throw a 95mph fastball anymore. But if the team needs me to pitch with my heart – my heart is still here.”
Closing the letter is a small wish:
“If the Dodgers win this year, please engrave my name somewhere small. Not for glory – but so I know: I did not sacrifice in vain.”
When an arm breaks, people can replace it with a rookie. But a heart like Tanner Scott – no team can ever bring back.
Los Angeles will have many more battles to fight. But in every next shot, there will always be a little bit of the blood, sweat – and tears – of the man who wears an unsung number, but leaves a deep mark in the hearts of fans.