PEORIA, Ariz. — Nothing illuminates the mad-scientist makeup of Padres pitcher Yu Darvish more than conversations happening a few lockers away at the team's spring-training complex.
Rotation-mate Mike Clevinger stops an explanation of Darvish's freakish absorption of new information to say it sparked a question. As established arm Joe Musgrove considers the dizzying stable of pitches, he comes up with something to pick his teammate's brain about, as well.
When two established major league starters with 245 games and more than 1,220 innings between them scratch heads about the how's and why's of a peer, you take notice.
They pitch for a living. Yet Darvish does things, is capable of things, tries things that make them wonder about the intersection of ability and creativity, where nothing involving a hand and a baseball seems impossible.
"There was one time (new Padres pitcher) Nick Martinez said he was playing catch with Darvish in Texas," said Clevinger, unrolling a tale. "He was like, 'Nick, how do you hold your change-up.' He showed him this weird grip. He goes out to watch him in his pregame routine and the first 12 throws, he's doing that grip.
"His ability to just grab someone's grip and make the ball spin is something you can't really teach. That's just Yu."
Clevinger kept talking.
"There was one (pregame) where he and Nick were out there and they were spinning curveballs really high and slow," Clevinger recalled. "Nick said, 'Why don't you ever try that in a game?' He said the next game, he did it two or three times and started calling that his 'eephus.'
"If you can picture taking a baseball and just hitting a spot, then grabbing a grip that's foreign, making the ball spin and break in a different direction and throw it under control, I don't think there's anything in sports that can replicate that."
How does Darvish, one of the Padres leaders in big league service time who possesses the pitching equivalent of photographic memory, pick up things so quickly?
Clevinger would like to know.
"That's a good question," said Darvish, through interpreter Shingo Horie. "I've always been thinking about spinning the pitches, since I was a small kid. A lot of the guys, what they're doing and what they've done here, I've already gone through that process.
"So unless it's a knuckleball or something like that, that's where I'm at spinning my pitches."
Darvish always has been one of the most fascinating pitchers in the game. Above the waist, all those grips and all that tinkering. Below the waist, he remains as quiet as a public library.
Like an ocean, Darvish's mind and fingers rage at the surface while everything else remains serene below the exploding waves.
"The way his lower half moves is one of the best in baseball," Musgrove said. "Fluidity. There's no hitch. There's no disconnect. Everything just moves as one piece, very smooth."
The question racing through Musgrove's mind revolves around how Darvish manages to keep so many pitches close to game ready. In an era of bubble-wrapping arms, limiting bullpen bullets and slowing pitch-count progressions, it's tricky for starters to refine three or four pitches.
Darvish, meanwhile, said he has as many as 11 available despite relying primarily on five or six.
"It's hard to manage three 'plus' pitches," Musgrove said. "I would think the most difficult part would be keeping all those 11 pitches or whatever sharp. You only get so many pitches in a bullpen (session). Throughout the course of a season, making 32 starts, you try to limit the amount of throwing you're doing between starts.
"Now that we're talking about this, that's something I'd like to ask him and see what he's doing to manage that. Does he pick a few a day to work on? Or does he touch on each of them every day? That's a lot more difficult than people think."
The question was relayed to Darvish.
"There are some pitches that I don't even have to throw in the bullpen," he said. "Like say the cutter or the hard curveball. The slider, too, for that matter. I've done it so many times, I don't necessarily have to practice it in the bullpen."
Padres manager Bob Melvin, a former big league catcher, marvels at Darvish's pitching buffet.
"I don't know that I caught many guys where you had to take off your glove hand to potentially put a sign down," Melvin said. "It just shows you how good he is and is able to command all those pitches."
Continue dicing up all-things-Darvish with his fellow starters and another link emerges.
"His body has the best positioning I've ever seen when it comes to being on the mound," said Clevinger, who's bouncing setup and post-pitch leg kick seem like rock concert chaos compared to the quiet control of his teammate. "I've thought that since the time I watched him throw in high school. How he's able to create those positions 'down the slope' and getting into certain spots.
"The timing and synchronization is impeccable."
Musgrove sees it, as well.
"He's got an understanding of his body and space and where he's at," he said. "He moves really, really well — better than anybody I've been around. He's got that Japanese style of pitching. That slow-timing rhythm. It's hard to explain without watching. It's very slow and gathered.
"A lot of his pitches, the delivery's the same. It's just minor adjustments with wrist and hand position."
After Darvish is quizzed about his craft with questions from those who work alongside him, he's asked one more.
Is it important to be the opening day starter?
"Yeah," Darvish said. "Opening day is obviously special."
Add one more quality pitch.
