The best game of Spencer Turnbull's life began with "some of the worst stuff I've ever had in the bullpen."
"Didn't feel good at all," he said.
He said this with two championship belts draped over his shoulder, his hair still wet from beer showers in the clubhouse. He said this with a smile he couldn't contain, on a night he finally had control of his pitches. The electricity in Turnbull's arm hasn't always sparkled in his Major League career. It's resulted in walks and hit batters and losses.
On Tuesday, under the lights in Seattle, it resulted in a no-hitter.
"The whole night I was just like, I am not going to be afraid to make any pitches," Turnbull said. "I’m not going to second-guess or doubt or have any fear about anything. I’m just going to attack and stay in that mindset. I just wanted to stay aggressive. I didn’t want to beat myself, I wanted them to beat me."
Turnbull, 28, is the first to admit he's been his "own worst enemy" at times in the majors. He's had a tendency to overthink things on the mound, which is why he sought mental help last offseason. Along with a couple mechanical tweaks, this helped Turnbull post a 3.97 ERA in 2020. It didn't shake the feeling he had more. Maybe a lot more.
"I've always had the stuff," Turnbull said.
This season began with a setback. Turnbull was hit with COVID-19 toward the end of spring training. He returned a month later to pitch the Tigers to a win in his season debut, but his numbers were far from what he expected through his first four starts. That prompted a visit from his dad last Monday during an off-day in Detroit.
They played catch and "worked on a couple things," Turnbull said. His next outing, Thursday against the Royals, was his best of the season: 6 1/3 innings, one run, seven strikeouts. But pitching is fickle. Mechanics can come and go, and there they went when Turnbull began warming up Tuesday in Seattle.
"That would have maybe rattled me in my career a few years ago," he said. "I think I’ve matured now."
Former Tigers manager Ron Gardenhire used to call Turnbull a "bobblehead" because he'd shake off so many pitches when he wasn't feeling right. His doubts would make him jittery. The Mariners wouldn't have known he was fighting it in the first inning. He was calm and in control, projecting confidence. He got three outs on 12 pitches, and now those doubts belonged to the hitters.
"I didn’t feel nearly as connected mechanically warming up," Turnbull said. "But if I didn’t have my best stuff physically, I was going to make sure I had my best stuff mentally because I knew I needed it. Fortunately my stuff clicked in right around the end of the first and I was able to stay locked in."
It was a breeze from there. Turnbull had everything working, the darting mid-90's fastball, the dancing slider, the sinker, the changeup, the curve. This was electricity with an outlet. Turnbull got 19 swings and misses, including 12 with his heater, and he got the little help on defense he needed. The only batter who hit him hard, Mitch Haniger, was the last one he had to face. Turnbull whiffed him on three pitches, sinker, slider, fastball.
"That last at-bat, not only did I want to make my nastiest pitches, but I wanted to execute them as perfectly as possible," he said.
Turnbull nearly threw a no-hitter in college, but the game was halted after seven innings due to lightning. Now that he can harness it, all that electricity is becoming an asset in the bigs.
"Fast forward to tonight, I’ve come such a long way," Turnbull said. "And I’m nowhere near being done. I don’t know if I’ve arrived or not, but I definitely feel like I belong here."