Aaron Judge is Nearly Immortal

Baseball has been in the love with the home run ever since Babe Ruth started hitting them in bunches a century ago, first for the Boston Red Sox, and most famously for the New York Yankees. Ruth made both the home run and the Yankees famous so it’s fitting that a 21-century Yankee slugger, Aaron Judge, pass Ruth’s once-seemingly insurmountable single-season home run record of 60 and his way to besting Roger Maris’s hallowed mark of 61 for the American League record.

Judge hit home run number 62 to lead off the second game of a day-night double header against the Texas Rangers at Choctaw Stadium Tuesday in Arlington. Five games had passed since he hit 61 and this being the second-to-last game of the season, the pressure mounted—the usually unflappable Judge showed his frustration in the day game after popping up a hanging breaking ball he’s used to demolishing. After being pitched to judiciously by the Blue Jays, Red Sox, and Orioles, the Rangers pitchers attacked Judge throwing plenty of strikes, but his timing was off. The man had been hitting under unreasonable expectations for weeks.

He was ready for the 1-1 fastball from right-hander Jesus Tinoco, and launched a moon shot to over the high fence in left field—fan made a clean catch and everything, the lucky sombitch. For Judge, relief accompanied his remarkable achievement, the crowning touch on a season in which the Yankees’s best player bet big on himself and won.

For those of you still paying attention to our grand old game, Judge is a home-grown Yankee in his seventh season. Earlier this year, he turned down a tempting seven-year, 213.5 extension. It was no small gamble—Judge has missed a significant amount of playing time in his career due to injury—and holy cow has it ever worked in his favor. Judge is currently leading the American League in virtually every statistical category. He’ll barely come short of winning the Triple Crown. Judge has made it all but impossible for the Yankees not to sign him. The man is no rent-a-star, after all. He’s a franchise guy, the heir to Derek Jeter.

There are two dominant strains of Yankee stars: the slugger, the box office hero—Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Reggie Jackson, Alex Rodriguez, the guys that put the asses in the seats; and the “quiet Yankees” (aka “true” or “real” Yankees)—Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Don Mattingly, Jeter, professional, hard-nosed, restrained. Consider Judge an amalgam of the two. He hits bombs but also for average. He is no-nonsense and unflashy—even his home run trot is brisk and unadorned. But he isn’t morose. There are plenty of moments on the field where you see him enjoying himself. From afar, and from what you read and hear, Judge’s teammates love him.

What’s is lost watching Judge on TV often is just how big he is. (That changes, of course, anytime you see Judge standing on base next to an opposing player.) Remember how awkward Michael Jordan looked swinging a bat, with just so many moving parts to get under control? Meanwhile, Judge looks as coordinated and fluid as a smaller player—a cyborg version of A-Rod. He’s got a sweet swing—a rarity for a righty and the essential trait all great stars possess:

He puts the asses in the seats.

Hitting home runs isn't easy. With no exception. They're especially difficult when you’re trying to hit one. And not only was Judge trying to hit a home run every at bat after reaching 60 on Tuesday, September 2oth against the Pirates in the Bronx, the whole ballpark stood, waiting for him to hit one—the opposing team, the folks at the concession stands, tens of thousands of fans standing holding their cellphones above their heads. It was like watching someone trying to ejaculate on command in front of 50,000 people.

But right, hitting home runs is hard and there was ample disappointment between 60 and 62. Judge went seven games between homers—his second longest homerless streak of the year—though he drew plenty of walks along the way. The Red Sox came and went in four games and no homers. On the Yankee radio broadcast, Suzyn Waldman observed how strange and quiet Yankee Stadium became during Judge’s at bat, as if the Bronx faithful were suddenly transported to the 18th hole of the U.S. Open. But it wasn’t only in New York but Toronto and Texas as well. At bats turned into theater, sports-on-demand.

At one point, Judge walked five consecutive times, all on 3-2 pitches. When he lined a 3-2 fastball off Toronto reliever Tim Mayza for dinger number 61, Judge sprinted out of the box, unsure if he got all of it. Another five games, including three more at Yankee Stadium, passed until he got 62. With each at bat, the Yankee announcers welcomed viewers from across the country, well-gargled and primed for the “historic” call. But nothing happens on demand and hitting home runs is tough even for Paul Bunyon.

Breaking Ruth’s record and hitting those 61 home runs in 1961 wasn’t much fun for Roger Maris, who won back-to-back AL MPVs in 1960 and ’61. Maris had come over to the Yanks in a trade and many Yankee fans rooted for his teammate, Mickey Mantle, to break Ruth’s mark. For Maris, the home run chase was a misery. It’s also his legacy.

The legacy’s been passed on to his kids, who were visible in 1998 when Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa broke Maris’s record. The Maris children dutifully sat next to Aaron Judge’s parents for game after game (though did not make the trip to Texas). Roger Maris Jr. sat with Aaron Judge’s mother in Toronto for number 61; Maris Jr. spoke to the media about how Judge’s mark is the true single-season record, and if you care enough to get overheated about steroids and real records and who is clean and who is not, knock yourself out. But such dour digressions get in the way of enjoying Judge’s performance.

Judge didn’t seem burdened by chasing history. Sure, he didn’t live in Babe Ruth’s shadow as Maris had, an interloper with the nerve to break a sacred record. Judge is the Yankee all Yankee fans want to hit all the homers all the time. They don’t want him to sign with the Mets or Red Sox or Dodgers or anyone else. That he set the AL home run record in the walk year of his contract, leading the Yankees to the playoffs, makes it even tastier.

The quiet giant with the winning smile, King of the Long Ball in an age of Home Runs. After a season for the ages, only playoff glory separates Judge from the rusting gods of Monument Park. Bombs away.

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