MILWAUKEE -- As American Family Field erupted around him, Aaron Ashby exuded only calm. The rest of the Brewers were whooping and hollering, running in from their positions to celebrate. Rays designated hitter Yandy Díaz was steaming mad, convinced his game-ending check swing was a take.
Through it all, Ashby betrayed nothing, walking quietly off the mound.
If the Brewers have been a hurricane throughout this postseason, Ashby has been the eye of it, consistently calm with chaos swirling around him. In World Series Game 2 on Saturday, he earned a five-out save, one night after recording five additional outs in Game 1. When the Brewers walked away Saturday with a 5-4 comeback win and a 2-0 Series lead, they had Ashby to thank for a significant portion of it.
“It’s Goose Gossage-like,” Brewers manager Pat Murphy said.
Actually, it’s better. In Game 2, Ashby ran his streak of consecutive scoreless innings to open the postseason to 15 2/3, passing Gossage (1981) and Andy Hawkins (1984) on baseball’s all-time list. Only Andrew Miller, with 16 scoreless innings in 2016, began a postseason with a longer streak.
“It’s been incredible,” Murphy reiterated. “He does what it takes.”
That’s not to say things have always come easy for Ashby, even in his current flow state. Tapped to protect a one-run lead in the eighth, Ashby recorded the final two outs of that inning without issue. Rather than turn to nominal closer Trevor Megill in the ninth, however, Murphy gave the ball back to Ashby, as he did multiple times during the National League Championship Series. With a 2-0 World Series lead in the balance, Ashby allowed a leadoff double to Jonny DeLuca, before recovering to retire the next three batters.
In the bullpen, Megill was hot, ready to enter if needed. But even against one of the Rays’ best lefty mashers, Murphy stuck with his guy. At worst, Ashby figured, he could pitch around Díaz and face lefty Jonathan Aranda. At best, he could end the game right there.
Clearly treating Díaz carefully, Ashby stole a strike at the top of the zone before throwing three consecutive changeups below it. On a 3-1 count, Ashby lobbed an unexpected curveball into the zone. Then, at 3-2, he tossed another one in the dirt. Díaz checked his swing, dropped his bat and began heading to first, only to recoil when first-base umpire James Hoye punched him out to end the game.
“Just the emotion, wanting to come through right there in the moment,” was how Rays manager Kevin Cash diagnosed Díaz’s reaction. “He didn’t feel like he check swung.”
Given some time to cool his emotions, Díaz eventually conceded the call.
“In the moment, yeah, I disagreed,” he said. “The umpire said it was a swing. It is what it is.”
As all this was taking place in front of him, Ashby betrayed no emotion. That’s how it’s been all year for him.
“It’s a lot of breathing,” Ashby said of his composure. “Just kind of praying for peace, I guess.”
Earlier in his career, Ashby acknowledged, he sometimes struggled with that sort of thing. It wasn’t until after going through all the lows that baseball could throw at him -- shoulder surgery in 2023, an 8.04 ERA in his 2024 return to Triple-A, a demotion to the bullpen, a few nightmarish outings in Octobers past -- that he began to find his Zen. Only in the past couple of years, armed with one of the game’s best curveballs, has Ashby found both consistent calm and steady success.
“He’s a stud,” longtime teammate Brandon Woodruff said, repeating those words for emphasis. “He’s worked real hard on his mental game earlier in his career, and now he’s found this sweet spot with his role now, and he’s excelling, man. It’s so fun to see.”
For Ashby, peace is even easier to find with a 2-0 World Series lead. In his next outing, he can set the record for consecutive scoreless innings to open a postseason. A candidate for the NLCS MVP honors that ultimately went to Jake Bauers, Ashby is now placing himself in the early running for World Series MVP.
Perhaps that sort of thing would break his Zen-like state. Or not. Asked if he’s this calm in all aspects of his life, Ashby laughed.
“Traffic makes me mad sometimes,” he admitted. “Maybe on the golf course I get mad sometimes. But that’s pretty much it.”