SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — Standing an athletic 6-foot-3, Ross Stripling wants you to know that he can dunk. This is important because, as Stripling says with a chuckle, “I don’t have PTSD.” And wouldn’t you, if one attempt went so awry that it put your leg in a cast?
There is one lingering effect of Stripling’s ill-fated dunk attempt, now nearly a decade and a half in the past: It’s what he credits as the origin of one of the majors’ most unique deliveries. Not only do batters barely know what’s coming with Stripling’s kitchen-sink repertoire (up to six pitches, with the addition of a second changeup), it’s coming at them from an angle they rarely see: directly over the top.
“It’s definitely something that you don’t see a whole lot,” said Sean Hjelle, who despite his status (at 6-foot-11) as one of the two tallest men to throw a pitch in a major-league game releases the ball considerably lower than Stripling.
