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Hamels shows his talent and grit in no-hitter

Did it happen to you? Were you sitting at home, watching Cole Hamels - after 128 pitches that had not led to a hit by a Chicago Cubs batter, after striking out 13 of those batters, with the possibility that he was pitching six days before the trade deadline flavoring the late

Cole Hamels hugs centerfielder Odubel Herrera (37), who made the final out of the game on a running, slipping catch on the warning track to complete Hamels' no-hitter. MATT MARTON / AP
Cole Hamels hugs centerfielder Odubel Herrera (37), who made the final out of the game on a running, slipping catch on the warning track to complete Hamels' no-hitter. MATT MARTON / APRead more

Did it happen to you?

Were you sitting at home, watching Cole Hamels - after 128 pitches that had not led to a hit by a Chicago Cubs batter, after striking out 13 of those batters, with the possibility that he was pitching six days before the trade deadline flavoring the late afternoon at Wrigley Field with an extra dash of drama - throw his 129th pitch Saturday? Did you notice immediately that the pitch was a hanger, a hit-me breaking ball that did nothing but sit high in the strike zone for Kris Bryant, the Cubs' incandescent rookie third baseman, to crack it deep to center field? Did you think it was a home run off the bat?

Did you see the Phillies' Odubel Herrera - also a rookie, a 23-year-old who had never played center field in the majors before this season, the kid who in the eighth inning somehow had preserved Hamels' shot at history with a brilliant running-and-collapsing catch - dash backward toward the ivied wall, then banana-peel on his stomach just as the ball was hurtling to the ground? Did your heart fall out of your chest and land at your feet? Did you grab your girlfriend's or bar stool buddy's arm out of panic? Did you call your dad to share the moment with him?

And finally, when the ball landed in Herrera's glove like a frog on a lily pad and he thrust his left arm and the glove and the ball into the air to make it clear that he did indeed catch it, that the game was over, and the Phillies had won 5-0, and Cole Hamels had indeed thrown a no-hitter in what might be his final start for them, did you notice something peculiar and revealing? That the Phillies player or coach who reacted with less overt delight than any other, the one who didn't jump up and down or scream with joy, the one who acted as if pitching a no-hitter is exactly something that could happen when Cole Hamels pitches, was Cole Hamels?

Yeah. Me, too.

Here's what happens when you write a Cole Hamels column and praise him in it:

You get e-mails, phone calls, and online comments from people who don't like Cole Hamels. People who wish he were tougher. Who call him a prima donna. Who say he's not as good as Steve Carlton was. Who resent that he spent a little too much time celebrating himself on the banquet circuit in the winter of 2008 and as a result had a subpar season in 2009. Who wonder whether his previous two starts - when he gave up 14 runs over 61/3 innings - were a sign he had quit on his teammates. Who mock him for his Southern California accent, the kind that makes him sound as if he'd rather be rollerblading than pitching for our team in our town, a town where athletes have to be hard and edgy and sound as if they're hard and edgy, and not sound as if they're rollerblading foo-foo boys. People who themselves sound quite a bit like Donald Trump - the toughest guy in an otherwise-empty room.

What gets left out about Hamels too often is this: He is tough. He has made at least 30 starts each of the last seven seasons, 295 in his career. He won 114 of them. He pitched well enough to win 30 more, with even adequate run support. He is the athlete most responsible for Philadelphia's only major professional sports championship over the last 32 years - the most valuable player of the 2008 National League Championship Series and the World Series. He was excellent in the 2010 and 2011 postseasons, when the Phillies didn't win a World Series. He is their best home-grown starting pitcher since Robin Roberts, and though that fact says an awful lot that isn't very good about the Phillies and their history and their inability, across generations, to develop starting pitchers, it says an awful lot that is very good about Hamels. There is a fine argument to be made that he is among the most underappreciated athletes to have played in this city.

And there is also, now, a good chance that Hamels will never pitch for the Phillies again. If they're smart, he won't. If they're smart, they will not hang on to him beyond Friday at 4 p.m. - when the non-waiver trade deadline comes - and wait to trade him in the offseason, when a host of other talented and accomplished pitchers will be available as free agents and teams won't have to surrender their top prospects to acquire them. If they're smart, they will be as patient as possible for as long as possible, size up the offers presented to them, and trade him on or before Friday in the sort of move that's necessary if they are to rebuild.

That it is necessary does not mean it will be easy - for the Phillies, or for anyone else who watched him pitch Saturday. They say sometimes you don't know what you had until it's gone. After what Cole Hamels did, after 13 strikeouts, two walks, no hits, and that electrifying last out, that's impossible now. In maybe his final game for the Phillies, Cole Hamels did everything in his power to make sure no one around here forgets anything about him.

@MikeSielski