Good friends, great rivals: The tale of Trev & Clev
Zack Meisel 2h ago 6
CINCINNATI — Mike Clevinger retreated to his locker one evening last week. When he scanned his phone, one text from a familiar instigator caught his attention.
Guess who you’re facing?
The skies had opened and the stars had aligned. Thanks to a rainout in Cleveland, Clevinger and former teammate Trevor Bauer were scheduled to square off this week, appointment viewing during the annual I-71 clash.
For years, Bauer was a lone wolf in Cleveland, a data-obsessed hurler who challenged and occasionally butted heads with authority. Then along came a scraggly haired skateboarder with colorful tattoos and an affinity for Jimi Hendrix.
They couldn’t be wired more differently. Clevinger once described Bauer as “the nerd” of the Indians’ rotation, while classifying himself as “the wild card.” But their thirst for knowledge and competition spurred them to forge a friendship.
They initially fit the roles of teacher and pupil. Bauer knew where to search for answers to questions about mechanics or pitch design, and Clevinger demonstrated an insatiable curiosity. Bauer turned Clevinger on to biomechanics, and on days neither stood atop the mound, they would lean against the dugout railing and chat about pitch sequencing.
Over a couple of years, they placed countless wagers. They talked trash until they were hoarse. They displayed an unrelenting desire to one-up the other, highlighted by their incessant debate about fastball velocity, strikeout totals, ERA and any other data point that might help one craft a case that he was superior to the other.
The owner of the speediest fastball was dubbed the “Velo Daddy,” which Bauer scribbled on a $100 bill he handed to Clevinger after his heater fell short on the radar gun. They instituted the “King of the Hill” crown, a maroon felt cap with a gold frame and blue and green jewels, awarded to the top pitcher of a series. They recorded the pilot episode of a “Trev & Clev” podcast that never saw the light of day. Bauer has interviewed Clevinger multiple times for his “Bauer Bytes” show.
What bonded them, though, was their ambition. Bauer has long prattled on about his plan to win a bookshelf full of Cy Young Awards. Clevinger has similar, slightly more attainable aspirations. And as they have constantly teased each other during their respective pursuits of stardom, they have aided each other along their journeys. Clevinger said Bauer was “instrumental”
in his development from an inexperienced hurler who paced and puked before every outing as if they were each a decisive World Series start into one of the premier pitchers in the American League.
Their relationship also established a new standard among Tribe starters. Shane Bieber eventually became their little brother. “He’s still the little brother,” Clevinger stressed. Though they teased Bieber about his velocity upon his arrival in the majors, they did so knowing he possessed the ability to reach back and clock his fastball in the mid-90s. Clevinger has since mentored Zach Plesac in a similar fashion, as the two trained together during much of last winter.
By last season, Bauer and Clevinger knew their tenure as teammates was on borrowed time. As Cleveland’s team control of Bauer dwindled, the pitcher’s name swirled in trade rumors.
The night Bauer was dealt to Cincinnati last July, he and Clevinger shared a heartfelt embrace at Bauer’s locker before Bauer bid the rest of his teammates farewell.
They met for lunch the next day before Bauer toured Progressive Field one last time, documenting the final chapter of his Cleveland career during the Indians’ game against the Astros. Clevinger created a spoof of a scene in “Furious 7,” set to the song “See You Again,” in which Bauer and Clevinger (with Bieber riding shotgun) drive their separate ways on the highway. He made sure his vehicle’s license plate read “Velo Daddy.”
From the moment the trade was executed, they knew they stood a chance to meet again on the diamond. The Indians and Reds, after all, battle for the Ohio Cup every season.
For a few hours last week, that dream duel seemed imminent. Clevinger joked that they would plead with their managers to abandon the designated hitter for one night so they would get to venture into the batter’s box against each other. Rather than disappear in the dugout or the video room between innings, Clevinger planned to “top-step” Bauer, to stand in plain sight and heckle his former rotation mate.
“I’m more excited to have an empty stadium, where you can hear everything I’m saying to him,” Clevinger said. “Now we can see who’s more mentally tough.”
A harmless tweet about their potential matchup late last week spawned a ruthless war of words between the two.
Bauer described their matchup as follows:
1) Apprentice vs. Master
2) Son vs. Father
3) Child vs. Goat
Clevinger then upped the ante, painting it as:
1) Sunshine vs. Kid who ruined the World Series with drone
2) Sunshine vs. Guy with a career 4.00 ERA
3) Sunshine vs. Guy who threw the ball over the center-field wall during meltdown
Bauer supplied the last word:
1) Guy who watched the World Series vs. Game 2 and 5 starter
2) My son, shine vs. Guy with Cy Young votes
3) Shane Bieber’s shadow vs. Guy who saved your career
Good friends.
Great rivals.
“I was going to leave the toe tag on him,” Clevinger said. “I was already sitting there, already watching him come back for more because he knew he got body-bagged right there.”
Mother Nature had other ideas. A pair of Reds rainouts not only spoiled the Bauer-Clevinger matchup, but the rearranged schedule pushed Bauer out of the pitching plans altogether for the Cleveland series. Bauer’s petition to pitch on short rest fell on deaf ears.
“I’m happy for Clevinger,” Bauer said. “It’s got to be a good thing for him.”
And why’s that?
“Everyone likes to feel confident and have a good start to their season,” Bauer said, “and I really didn’t want to have to take that from him. So it’s probably better that we don’t match up.”
Clevinger will still face the Reds on Wednesday. Bauer will make his long-awaited return to Cleveland. And the mental warfare between the two will undoubtedly continue.
“Oh yeah,” Clevinger said. “It’s the whole kit and caboodle. It’s everything.”