Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re returning to the bitter battlefield of high school baseball, as Abe, Mihashi, and all of their Nishiura compatriots seek to topple the first-seeded Tosei team. After some fortuitous early innings that saw Nishiura pulling away by two runs, Tosei rallied back in force, gaining two runs in quick succession, and then a third when Mihashi stumbled in the rain. With two innings to go, opportunities are swiftly dwindling for Nishiura to somehow topple Goliath.
Of course, that sober articulation of the scoreboard can’t begin to express the frantic battle of wills and talents that has brought us this far. Nishiura has scrambled for every possible inch of advantage in this matchup, exploiting a wealth of pre-game pitching data, effectively manipulating the Mihashi surprise factor, leaning on Tajima’s remarkable eyesight, and ultimately even exploiting the temperamental heavens’ looming stormclouds. And though their efforts have required the dedicated support of every team member, at this point it seems to all point to one question – does Mihashi have the strength to finish this game?
After practically collapsing in exhaustion multiple times so far, he seems to have gained one last boost of energy from the knowledge that his old teammate Kanou is pushing through to the next round. Big Windup! has consistently emphasized how baseball is in large part a mental game, but when your body is actively failing, can your mind really carry you to victory? Let’s find out!
Episode 21
It’s a simple trick, but this OP matching the timing of the boys running onto the field with that initial thunderous drum fill is so effective, particularly following the pregnant stillness of the slow pans preceding it. Always appreciated when an OP goes above and beyond in matching the speed or drama of the on-screen imagery to the energy of the song
That pattern continues through the rest of the OP, slowing down for Mihashi taking the pitcher’s mound during the verse, then speeding up to match his pitches and the batter’s strikes against the snare hits
We return to the episode proper with a shot of those looming storm clouds, which at this point represent the threat of instant loss if the game is called
We are then situated alongside Harada and the cheering section, marinating in their anxiety before a batter emerges to signal the game will continue
“I have a feeling that Mihashi’s money pitch isn’t his curveball; it’s that strange fastball.” Tosei continues to peel apart the layers of Mihashi’s technique. It’s a challenge that’s likely familiar to anyone who’s competed in contests as intimate as the batter-pitcher faceoff, like fencing or even fighting games. Practiced players are accustomed to facing the techniques of other practiced players – but Mihashi, with his lopsided technique and slow-yet-precise fastball, is a weird outlier. Techniques that work against the best players often don’t work against less fully developed players, because they’re not operating under the same assumptions of effective play (or simply can’t execute on them)
As Abe’s strategy is considered, we cut over to him telling Mihashi to cover his shoulders to avoid letting his arms get cold. Another beat emphasizing both Abe’s concern and Mihashi’s tenuous condition – he’s basically like an engine that’s already overheating, prone to shorting out with the slightest touch
Tosei’s catcher ruefully admits Abe is his superior as a strategist. Baseball’s not really spectator-friendly because most of the “battle” is invisible; fortunately, anime lets us explicate every strategic turn with ease
Up first is Nishiura’s third batter in order, Suyama. He reflects to himself that this “might be the last time our cleanup batter is up,” another natural source of pressure – he practically has an obligation to get on base, given the entire batting order is structured around him and his predecessors getting knocked home by the cleanup batter. It’s a great psychological weight to be thinking this will be your last at-bat, particularly when your team goes first in innings, meaning the opponent will always have a chance to counter an insufficient lead
Of course, there’s no other way this could go – this is indeed a team game, but given Big Windup!’s priorities, it’s inevitable that Abe and Mihashi would have to close it out
Oof, nasty. Tosei takes advantage of Mihashi’s prior wild pitch by having Takase intentionally throw a ball right in front of Suyama’s face. By faking the appearance of another wild pitch, Tosei implants the fear of getting hit in the face in Suyama, therefore hopefully breaking his concentration
Suyama rallies with the thought that “either it’ll happen or it won’t,” but his determination not to dodge the hit creates its own opportunities for Tosei. This game!
Suyama hits it high, but it fortunately lands directly between the right fielder and the first two basemen, allowing him to reach first
Tosei fears another stolen base, which of course is nearly impossible with Tajima actually at-bat rather than directing the runner. But what they don’t know can still hurt them, as Momoe is happy to acknowledge
“His other at-bat results, the momentum of the game, or him as he is right now… which factor should I focus on?” There’s enough hidden information at play that you can never truly “solve” these situations, only trust your data, analysis, and instincts
“It doesn’t matter, cause I can connect with it as long as the timing is the same as the fastball.” As such, simplifying heuristics like this are essential. Tajima clears his mind of information that won’t impact his results
Tajima is in fact so comfortable that he’s neglecting to read Momoe’s signs. Well, as with Tosei, the best batters sorta get to make their own rules
Tajima fouls off two more fastballs. Probably one of the most tangibly exciting forms of a pitcher-batter duel – a batter who’s confident he can at least connect with anything, and thus begins to repeatedly parry the pitcher’s attempts, fouling as many times as he feels like it. Like a fencer continuously parrying and riposting an opponent’s thrusts
“If they keep pushing on with fastballs, Tajima will get a hit!” Though it appears like Takase is fending him off, he’s losing the information war – with every fastball he fires, Tajima gets a better handle on their maximum speed
Two more foul balls bring this one at-bat up to seven pitches. Another issue here – Takase’s burning through his overall pitching stamina, while Tajima can swing freely, knowing this is likely his last at-bat. If he exhausts Takase and then strikes out, that’s still a win
Harada seizes the moment to start a Tajima chant. Anything they can do to control the momentum
Ooh, love this low-angle composition from behind Takase, panning slowly across the two of them. It’s a composition that inherently brings to mind a faceoff between gunslingers, with Takase’s hand holding the baseball situated as if he’s about to unholster his revolver
Love that we’re basically getting a whole Tajima episode out of this tense at-bat. This show knows exactly when to slow down and focus on one particular exchange, and is also excellent about celebrating all the variable talents of Nishiura’s players
“If we keep doing this, Junta will run out of stamina.” Kazuki finally realizes the trap. Thus he elects to avoid the strike zone, taking advantage of their count lead to hopefully get Tajima to swing at something he can’t actually tag
Momoe is thrilled to see Tajima not swing at it. He may not be listening to her, but he’s still focused!
Of course, Tajima being Tajima, his immediate response is “if it’s anywhere near reasonable, I’m still gonna swing at it.” His confidence is both a strength and a weakness
And Kazuki actually agrees, planning to give Tajima a sinker towards the middle that he can actually swing at. A keen assessment of Tajima’s mentality, attempting to take advantage of his potential overconfidence
The plan works, and Tajima is struck out. I appreciate this extended cut afterwards, as Tajima reflects on the fleeting thrill of his final at-bat, his tears mingling with the rain. From the game seemingly being in his hands to suddenly having no further role in winning it, certainly a crushing descent
But he’s a trooper, and thus immediately heads to the base coach box in order to offer base-stealing data. Every bit of effort counts!
As expected, Tajima swiftly facilitates steals of both second and third base. Good on the Tosei coach, though – seeing the seemingly incoherent strategy of waiting through a whole batter and then two more pitches to start stealing, he at last realizes Tajima is the key to their stealing strategy. A good lesson in that – when faced with something that seems illogical or incoherent, one’s first instinct should be to ask “what unforeseen circumstances could actually make sense of this strategy?” Simply assuming any deviations from your own logic are due to ignorance or stupidity won’t get you very far!
Tosei elect to fill the bases in order to ensure the necessary outs, leaving Mizutani to somehow bring our base runners home
Fortunately, Mihashi’s ready to make an absolute fool of himself attempting to encourage Mizutani, thus genuinely settling Mizutani’s nerves. Mihashi sure is a strange compliment to the team, acting as both pitching ace and goofy mascot
More excellent Mihashi expressions as he sits in the runner up circle, looking very much like a kid sent to the corner for time-out
The rain at last does Nishiura a favor – after Mizutani hits a ground ball off a sinker, the baseman slips in the mud, letting it pierce through the infield. An accidentally excellent strategy; catching ground balls requires precise lateral movement between the bases, but attempting to cling to this soggy soil only made the baseman lose his footing
Thus we gain a run and an out, with two men still on base and… oh fuck, right, Mihashi’s up next. Well, it was a good inning while it lasted
Yeah, they don’t even waste time showing us more than a single pitch of Mihashi’s at-bat. Sorry dude, you’re not taking one off Tosei’s ace
Clever use of an increased drawing count for Mihashi flailing as he attempts to comfort Tajima. That sort of fluidity can feel unnatural relative to the usual pace of limited animation, which does a great job here of making Mihashi look uncomfortable in his own skin
Mihashi ultimately makes a promise that’ll be kinda hard to fulfill: that they’ll cycle through the entire batting order again, giving Tajima one more chance to bring it home
And Done
My god, this show is too damn stressful! Outside of that exhilarating duel between Tajima and Takase, this episode was just a total nail-biter from start to finish, making extremely cruel use of Nishiura’s scoring deficit. But as usual, every step of this match has felt sturdy, coherent, and well-earned, to the point where momentous turns of fortune like that slip in the mud feel like genuine calamities, the slightest slip in a perfect defense that leads to utter ruin. And you can absolutely feel the increasing desperation of these players as opportunities for victory dwindle, making boosts of morale like Mihashi’s flailing assurance all the more crucial. Keep hanging on by your fingers, boys!
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