Viera, Fla. — After midnight on Oct. 12, Drew Storen sat at his locker in the silent, stunned Washington Nationals clubhouse, the same thought cycling through his head: “This is not good. This is not good.” He asked himself, “What happened?” He stared straight ahead — same as he would after any bad game — until the next thought came. He wanted to change what had happened, but he knew he could not. There was no use thinking about that. He told himself, “I got to move on from this.”
Thursday afternoon, four months later, Storen climbed one of five mounds in a fenced-in bullpen, past a matrix of diamonds at the Nationals’ spring training complex. The first workout of spring training carries with it the notion of renewal, which is something Storen insists is not for him. He does not want pity, either, because he hates the idea that Game 5 made him into a victim, some sob story. He wants the opportunity to face major league hitters again, to run in from the bullpen and fire hellacious sliders and mid-90s fastballs. He does not want condolences. He wants the ball.
An osprey flying above the field on Thursday at Nationals spring training disrupted the batting practice session when it dropped a fish in center field next to Denard Span.
Insight on the Nationals and all the latest news from Post reporters Adam Kilgore and James Wagner.
For observers, the end of 2012 will hover over Storen until October, likely beyond. The Nationals handed him a two-run lead in Game 5 of the National League Division Series. He twice pitched his way to within one strike of playing for the pennant. The St. Louis Cardinals bled him for four runs. The plastic sheets in the home clubhouse at Nationals Park were rolled up above the lockers.
For Storen, the pain from the end of 2012 wore off over the winter. He watched the tape. He went to London. He learned about pitching, and about himself. Storen, 25, enters the spring with a different job after the Nationals signed veteran closer Rafael Soriano in free agency, but he has the same mind-set. He wants to pitch in big moments, Game 5 something to be learned from and, like any other blown save, a scar that healed.
“It doesn’t do you any good to go, ‘Why?’ ” Storen said. “That’s the big thing for me. I would never want to be painted as a victim. I was out there. That’s my job. That’s what I’m supposed to do, and that’s what I want to do. So I never did the whole, ‘Why? Why?’ I can get better from it.”
‘Go take a trip?’
In college at Stanford, Storen fell in love with closing because of its cleansing nature – the day after a disaster, another chance arises to get the final out. Losing made him sick, but the schedule always offered immediate redemption. Game 5 felt different not because of the magnitude of the stage or how many people watched, but because there was no day after.
“When you get up the next day and you got a game, you can fix it,” Storen said. “I had to sit on it. I want to fix it now. That’s how I am. I want it now. I want to fix it now, so let’s go. That was probably the hardest part.”
And so, a long winter started with his thoughts in the chair after Game 5. He would receive letters and cards of support, well-wishes from friends and family. They all helped, but they paled to what came first. Teammates walked past him, patted him the back and said, “Hey man, we got you.”
