NEW YORK -- In two minutes last month, the wall that Jacob deGrom has spent a decade building cracked.
One moment, deGrom was taking a half-hop off the pitcher's mound, believing he had painted an inning-ending, called third strike across the ceiling of the zone. The next, he was whipping his head over his shoulder, screaming at Tony Randazzo, berating the home-plate umpire for missing a call.
No matter that Randazzo was blameless for the three additional balls deGrom threw to walk Nick Hundley, innocent of the ensuing pitch he grooved to Madison Bumgarner.