MCADAM: Sleeveless Sale played mind game with self, not Orioles, in brutal chill

Growing up in Lakeland. Fla., Chris Sale never had to deal with the cold much. When he went off to college, he actually traveled further south -- to Fort Myers, and Gulf Coast University -- where, again, heat was far more of an issue.

When he reached the big leagues in Chicago, he got introduced to freezing temperatures and wind chill for the first time. Over nine years in the big leagues, he's been exposed to plenty of cold days and nights.

But Sunday at Fenway was a whole different category.

"I was miserable,'' acknowledged Sale after five innings of one-run ball in the Red Sox' 5-3 win over the Baltimore Orioles. "Nothing short of miserable...(Today) was the worst. I said it when I came out of the game: Today was the most miserable I've ever been on a baseball field. By far. Not even close. Not even close.''

Notice the key words here, the time-stamp, as it were, on the comments: "...when I came out of the game.''

In the dugout, when he had finished and wrapped himself in a jacket, Sale could admit the obvious. Yes, it was nearly impossible to properly grip some pitches. No, he couldn't generate his usual velocity, with his fastball sometimes topping out at 87-88 mph. His strategy at times, he conceded, was to "flip it up there and let them hit it.'' After all, how far was it going to go?

Speaking with reporters in the relative warmth of the home clubhouse, he could admit how tough it was (he had difficulty gripping the ball, and his velocity) ... but not until then.

With temperatures in the low-to-mid 30s, Sale went out to the mound in bare arms. Some of this was related to routine; some pitchers, regardless of freezing conditions, feel constricted and unnatural with a sleeve covering their pitching arm.

But there was more to it than this. This was part of a mental game Sale was playing. And winning.

Years ago, Sale was counseled by a former White Sox teammate -- he wouldn't reveal who it was -- to never wear sleeves.

In football, sometimes lineman go bare-armed in sub-zero temperatures to send a signal to the opposition: I'm not cold. Are you?

It's psychological warfare, with players intent on establishing some sort of advantage over the guy lined up across the line of scrimmage. In refusing to recognize the conditions, the message is being sent: I won't be defeated — by you, or by the weather.

But for Sale, the game he's playing is different. He's not trying to prove anything to the hitters; rather, he's intent on winning the mental battle with himself. Keep playing those mind games, forever.

Sale said going out sleeveless was all about convincing himself that, evidence to the contrary, it was not ridiculously cold and windy. He had enough to worry about with the Orioles lineup.

So with virtually no body fat to protect him from the elements, Sale pretended otherwise. Between innings, he would dash into the runway and try to stay warm near some heaters.

But once it was time to compete, he waged a war of will with himself.

So you were trying to convince yourself you weren't miserable?

"Oh, I was plenty miserable,'' he confided to BostonSportsJournal.com. "But I wasn't going to allow myself to admit it until I was done.''

Alex Cora, who is in the business of preserving his team's assets, wasn't playing along. He lifted Sale after five and admitted he came close to doing so after just four innings. This was an afternoon not fit for man or beast, or certainly, front-line starters capable of carrying on every five days the rest of the way.

So even when Sale needed just 11 pitches in the fifth and seemed to be winning the war of attrition -- or himself -- he was given the hook. The bullpen patched together the final 12 outs as Sale wrapped himself in a coat, warmed by the satisfaction that he had, for a while anyway, convinced himself that it wasn't that cold.

If he could silence the doubts in his head. If he could mentally defeat the elements, then surely, his magical left arm could defeat the Orioles.

A run in the fifth inning by his teammates got him a no-decision.

But something an unidentified teammate told him long ago, something that has stuck with him for years now, got him the win of a different sort.