Translation for "relevista" to english
Relevista
Similar context phrases
Translation examples
Soy un relevista fracasado de 31 años.
I'm a 31-year-old washed-up reliever.
Como soy un relevista dicen que tengo poca memoria.
The thing in baseball is being a reliever, they say, "have a short memory."
- Un relevista zurdo.
- A left-handed reliever.
Estás buscando un relevista zurdo.
I hear you're looking for a reliever.
Quiero a un relevista y efectivo.
I want a reliever and cash.
Cuatro entradas consecutivas sin que nadie de ningún equipo cruzara el plato, y entonces, de pronto, en la primera mitad de la octava, los Indians pusieron dos corredores en base y allí intervino Vic Wertz, un bateador zurdo y potente que interceptó una bola rápida de Don Liddle, el relevista de los Giants, y la mandó por los aires muy dentro del campo central, tan lejos que Ferguson creyó que acabaría en home run, pero en aquel momento no era más que un principiante y no sabía que el Polo Grounds era un estadio de extraña configuración, con el campo central más profundo de todo el béisbol, 147 metros del plato a la valla, lo que significaba que el monumental fly de Wertz, que en cualquier otro sitio tendría que haber resultado en home run, no iba a llegar a las tribunas de sol, pero aun así había sido un estruendoso batazo, y a todas luces la bola seguiría sobre la cabeza del centrocampista de los Giants y pasaría por encima de la valla, bastaba y sobraba para un triple, quizá hasta para un home run dentro del campo, lo que daría a los Indians al menos dos si no tres carreras, pero entonces Ferguson vio algo que desafiaba toda probabilidad, una proeza de capacidad atlética que eclipsaba todo logro humano que hubiera presenciado en su corta vida, porque allí iba el joven Willie Mays, corriendo como Ferguson no había visto correr a nadie desde el instante en que la bola salió despedida del bate de Wertz, queriendo atraparla de espaldas al cuadro interior, como si el restallido de la pelota al chocar con la madera le hubiera anunciado exactamente dónde iba a aterrizar, sin mirar arriba ni atrás mientras corría hacia ella, sabiendo dónde se encontraba en cualquier momento de su trayectoria aunque no la viera, como si tuviese ojos en la nuca, y entonces la bola llegó al punto más alto de su arco y empezó a descender hacia un punto a 134 metros del plato, y allí estaba Willie Mays extendiendo los brazos hacia delante, y allí estaba la bola descendiendo sobre su hombro izquierdo y aterrizando en la bolsa de su guante abierto.
Four consecutive innings with no one crossing the plate for either team, and then, suddenly, in the top of the eighth, the Indians put two runners on base, and up stepped Vic Wertz, a power-hitting left-handed batter, who tore into a fastball from Giants’ reliever Don Liddle and sent it flying deep to center field, so deep that Ferguson thought it was a sure home run, but he was still a novice at that point and didn’t know that the Polo Grounds was an oddly configured ballpark, with the deepest center field in all of baseball, 483 feet from home plate to the fence, which meant that Wertz’s monumental fly ball, which would have been a home run anywhere else, was not going to make it to the bleachers, but still, it was a thunderous blast, and there was every certainty it would sail over the head of the Giants’ center fielder and bounce all the way to the wall, good enough for a triple, perhaps even an inside-the-park home run, which would give the Indians at least two if not three more runs, but then Ferguson saw something that defied all probability, a feat of athletic prowess that dwarfed every other human accomplishment he had witnessed in his short life, for there was the young Willie Mays running after the ball with his back turned to the infield, running in a way Ferguson had never seen a man run, sprinting from the second the ball left Wertz’s bat, as if the sound of the ball colliding with the wood had told him exactly where the ball was going to land, Willie Mays not looking up or back as he sprinted toward the ball, knowing where the ball was throughout its entire trajectory even if he couldn’t see it, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, and then the ball reached the top of its arc and was descending to a spot some 440 feet from home plate, and there was Willie Mays extending his arms in front of him, and there was the ball coming down over his left shoulder and landing in the pocket of his open glove.
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