CHRIS HATCHER REMEMBERS the first time he knew Kirby Smart was going to be a great defensive coach.
Hatcher, the current coach at Samford, was hiring his first staff at Valdosta State in 2000 and had used up much of his salary pool for assistants before hiring a secondary coach. His defensive coordinator, Will Muschamp, who was pulling down a cool $31,000, suggested they use their last $8,000 to hire someone he trusted.
Muschamp reached out to Smart, who had played with him as a defensive back at Georgia and finished his career with 13 interceptions. But three of those 13 jumped out to Hatcher.
“I knew who Kirby was because I was the quarterback coach at Kentucky for Tim Couch, and I think Kirby picked him off like three times in a game,” Hatcher said of Smart’s role in the Dawgs’ 23-13 win over Kentucky in 1997. “We knew we were hiring Kirby no matter what, because we just had that money left, but Will and I decided that it’d be good for him to come down, put the suit on and interview and do it right.”
So he put his new candidate in front of the whiteboard and asked him to diagram the Georgia base defense Kirby had run as a player.
“He got out there and he drew up the diagrams and he backed up,” Hatcher said. “He’s sweating, and Will and I are laughing, and I finally said, ‘Coach, that looks good, but if you play with 11 men, you got a better chance of stopping ’em.'”
Smart, who had left a player off, nervously drew the last guy in and apologized. (For the record, Hatcher knows Muschamp tells the story with 12 men instead of 10. While they both agree Kirby was off by one guy, Hatcher insists the way he remembers is correct.)
“I told everybody, if he was confident in stopping ’em with 10, I was like, man, there’s no telling what he’d do if he played with 11,” Hatcher said.
Hatcher knows Smart will need all 11 on Monday night when Georgia takes on upstart TCU for the College Football Playoff National Championship (7:30 ET, Monday, ESPN/ESPN App). Because he’s also one of the guys most responsible for teaching the Air Raid offense to Horned Frogs coach Sonny Dykes.
For a five-year period from 1997 to 2002, Hatcher lived with Dykes for three years, then worked with Smart for two. Hatcher and Dykes joined Hal Mumme’s first Kentucky staff, then, after landing a head-coaching job at his alma mater, Valdosta State, Hatcher hired Smart and Muschamp to their first jobs, where he worked with Smart for two seasons.
He’s the only man who can say he sold pizzas with Dykes and built lockers with Smart when they were all broke coaches.
“They’re both intense, but in very different ways,” Hatcher said. “Sonny’s very laid-back, got a great sense of humor. Kirby can talk smack with the best of ’em.”
HATCHER ARRIVED AT Kentucky a few months before Dykes. He was a star quarterback under Mumme at Valdosta, where he won the Harlon Hill Award, the Division II equivalent of the Heisman Trophy.
He was ready to hit the ground running coaching Couch, who would go on to become the No. 1 pick in the 1999 NFL draft. Dykes, who had previously been a jack-of-all-trades assistant at Navarro Junior College in Texas, was considering getting out of coaching because he was young, single and broke. Then his dad, legendary Texas Tech coach Spike Dykes, suggested he call Mumme.
Mumme hired him over the phone, and Dykes showed up a few months later once a graduate assistant spot opened up. He had nowhere to live, and Hatcher, who was 23, didn’t either. They didn’t know each other, but Hatcher said he’d once seen Spike speak at a clinic and “was mesmerized.” So he couldn’t wait to meet the younger Dykes.
They rented a house but didn’t have any furniture or money. Hatcher said they bought mattresses from a flea market and then, he claims, Dykes hatched a plan one summer when they were working as football camp staffers to supplement their income.
Hatcher was the camp director. Dykes, his assistant, saw dollar signs when he realized Tubby Smith was having his basketball camps during the same time, and other sports like volleyball did, too, therefore there were thousands of hungry kids staying overnight in the dorms in Lexington.
“Sonny’s a hustler, always worked hard,” Hatcher said. “I had an ’84 Ford Ranger five-speed that my dad sold me for $1 when I graduated from high school. He said, ‘You know, instead of just selling pizzas to the football campers, why don’t we just load up your truck, park it in the middle of the quad and every night we’ll just sell pizza?'”
Dykes didn’t deny it, instead portraying himself as a savvy businessman.
“There were 8 slices in there,” he said. “We made ’em a hell of a deal. You could pay $1 a slice, or we’d sell ’em the whole pizza for $10.”
“I had a South Georgia education,” Hatcher said. “That deal on the price, that was that West Texas education coming through. That was Sonny’s idea.”
The two said they’d go door to door in the dorms the rest of the night selling the rest.
“We were rolling in the dough,” Hatcher said. “You would have thought we were millionaires out there selling all those pizzas. Straight cash money back in the day.”
Dykes and Hatcher, who didn’t have offices, found an old storage room — “That thing was nasty, with blocking dummies probably from when Bear Bryant coached there,” Hatcher recalls — bought desks from a surplus store and created their own little room, adding spots for the student workers.
“We were living the good life, man,” Hatcher said. “We did all the grunt work, but we didn’t have all the pressure that goes along with game day. Sonny and I had it made back there, buddy. We had our own desks; all the volunteers and student assistants kind of felt like they owed us because we got them offices as well. We were living large back then.”
MIKE LEACH GOT the Texas Tech head-coaching job in 2000 after a year as offensive coordinator at Oklahoma, and brought Sonny with him, ironically to replace Spike. Meanwhile, Hatcher landed his own head-coaching gig that same year back at Valdosta, where Smart was once again back to coaching with 11 players.
Now, there was a more pressing issue.
The locker room was a sad state of affairs. But a place like Valdosta State wasn’t in the facilities arms race. If the football staff wanted new lockers, it was on the staff to figure it out.
“We had a guy donate some wood,” Hatcher said. “A young coach on our staff and his dad were carpenters on the side. So they built a template and we did it assembly-line style and everybody had their own job.”
He said Smart had a key role.
“You had to high-gloss [paint] the finished product to make it shiny,” Hatcher said. “Kirby was our high-gloss guy.”
Smart and Muschamp are known for their fiery temperaments. Hatcher recalls it all coming into focus when the three of them — Hatcher was just 26, Muschamp 25 and Smart 24 — would do anything competitive, especially basketball.
Smart could poke and poke and poke and get Muschamp fired up. “He could back it up on the court, too,” Hatcher said.
One day, Smart got Muschamp so angry, he fired the basketball off the gym wall and stormed out. “We didn’t see him for the rest of the day, so Kirby and I had a good time with that for a while,” Hatcher said.
But they all worked hard, too. Muschamp used to paint stripes on the field on Sundays to get ready for practice before he left Valdosta after one year to join Nick Saban’s staff at LSU. Smart, after only one year as a coach, became the defensive coordinator, with a big raise from $8,000 up to about $30,000.
That season, Valdosta went 12-2 and had the No. 2 defense in the country. One of those two losses came in the Division II national championship game.
Now, Muschamp, who has been a head coach at Florida and South Carolina, is an assistant for Smart as the Dawgs try to win a second consecutive title.
“When I hire young coaches, I always tell them there’s no job too small,” Hatcher said. “Back in the day, these are the things that we had to do. Here’s two coaches from the same staff, Kirby and Will, playing for the national championship, that used to paint the field and high-gloss lockers.”
DYKES ANDSMART say they learned a tremendous amount when working for Hatcher, who is 172-95 in 24 years as a head coach and won a national championship at Valdosta in 2004 during a 76-12 run there. This year, he led Samford to its first outright conference title since 1936.
In September, before Georgia beat Hatcher and Samford 33-0, Smart said what he learned from Hatcher was how to use his charisma and how he formed strong relationships.
“His disposition with the team was always confident,” Smart said. “[He] just believed we could win every game. He embodied that. He embraced that. His players love playing for him because of the energy he exudes.”
Smart was asked at SEC media days this year what he remembers most about his time with Hatcher.
“How long you got?” he said, smiling. “Because I could tell you about a 20-hour bus ride I took to Arkadelphia. I could tell you about Texarkana. I could tell you about all the places I went in Mississippi that I didn’t know existed. But that’s where I cut my teeth as a coach. There were some really long bus rides. We built our own lockers.
“I learned a lot while I worked at Valdosta State. You only learn trial by fire. And I certainly appreciate Coach Hatcher for giving me that opportunity.”
For Dykes, the lessons he learned from his time with Hatcher are especially important this week as he attempts to take on an incredibly talented Georgia team. Because, Dykes said, he was a skeptic that Kentucky could ever take on the top of the SEC, and Hatcher convinced him anything is possible.
“I didn’t know anything about the Air Raid and what it entailed,” Dykes said. “So my indoctrination really was Chris, just kind of sitting around the house talking about it. The one thing that matters is that you’re armed with this tool that was going to enable you to climb the highest mountain.”
Dykes said it’s a tribute to his time with Hatcher that he has been able to get TCU to this point this quickly by employing what he learned there.
“It took me a while to become a believer. Chris’ confidence rubbed off on everybody,” Dykes said. “Mike Leach rubbed off on me. Hal rubbed off on me. All the guys that were there, that had been in the offense for a while, all had this unrelenting confidence that it was going to work and it’s going to work against whoever. It didn’t really matter who you’re playing against.”
Dykes added after the Horned Frogs’ 51-46 upset of Michigan in the Vrbo Fiesta Bowl that he was thinking a lot of Leach and his dad in the final seconds of the game. Inevitably, he’ll lean on those lessons from his early days again Monday.
“Chris was just one of those guys: He’s undersized, wasn’t a great athlete, won the Harlon Hill, was a great player. I remember looking at Chris going, how in the world did he do it?” Dykes said. “And then once I got to know him, he just had so much confidence and belief in the system and himself and how if you have this unrelenting, undying belief, people will follow you. When you have a leader that has that, it can be contagious and permeates a whole program. That’s kind of what the magic of it is.”
CHRISTIAN FAURIA HAD heard all the rumors about his new head coach long before he arrived in New England.
It was 2002, and the former second-round pick had just turned 30. He was a free agent for the first time in his career, on the verge of a decent payday, but he had endured countless ankle injuries, and his primary goal was to protect his body for the long term. Bill Belichick did not seem like the guy to do it.
“The reputation [Belichick had], whether he knew it or not, was he wasn’t good when it came to protecting his players,” Fauria said. “It was rumored to be really tough, and he was supposedly really snarky and unapproachable.”
Still, the New England Patriots were fresh off a Super Bowl, so Fauria rolled the dice. During his initial visit, he had told Belichick about his injury history and his hope to be handled with care to maximize his impact on Sundays, but he hadn’t held out much hope the coach would follow through.
Then came the first week of padded practices in preseason camp. Fauria was jogging out to the field when a trainer stopped him.
“You’re down today,” the trainer said.
Half the team stared at Fauria. He remembers Ty Law chirping, “Why’s he getting a day off already?” He felt a bit guilty, he said, but what was clear is Belichick had kept his word.
As the 2002 season wore on, Fauria realized, more and more, that all the rumors he had heard about his head coach were garbage. Belichick was nothing like he had assumed.
“Everybody has a different experience with Bill,” Fauria said, “but for me, I instantly trusted him, and as a coach, that’s the No. 1 thing you’re trying to achieve.”
What’s it like to play for the greatest coach in NFL history? That’s lesson No. 1. The public image looks nothing like the guy behind the curtain.
As Belichick settles into the coaching job at North Carolina — his first season in college — there are plenty of big questions about what this experiment will look like. Belichick, himself, admits he still has no idea just how good this team can be. But if the setting is new, the Belichick image — and its more grounded counterpoint — look about the same as they did during Fauria’s time in New England. Belichick is a football-obsessed, details-oriented coaching machine, who’s also a teacher at heart and, believe it or not, a pretty funny guy.
“It definitely wasn’t what I expected it to be,” Fauria said of his time with Belichick. “I thought I’d be miserable there, but it was the best four years of my playing career. [Belichick] could not have been more open and honest and approachable. More than any coach I’d ever had, really.”
WHEN QUARTERBACKGio Lopez jumped from South Alabama to North Carolina this past spring, he knew his new home would come with its share of surreal moments, and he had been waiting for this one.
Here he was, a once-unheralded recruit, now sitting in a film room with a six-time Super Bowl champion head coach, breaking down film of Belichick’s most prized protégé, Tom Brady.
The way Lopez had always studied film was pretty straightforward: Here’s the concept. Here’s your first read, second read and so on. Belichick saw things at another level.
“He’s talking about how a fumble in the second quarter changed the way a play unfolded in the fourth quarter,” Lopez said.
Belichick is the Roger Ebert of game film. He’s obsessed, he’s critical and he sees details in what transpires on film that no one else does.
More importantly, former Patriots great Tedy Bruschi said, Belichick can translate all that information into something easily consumed by the average player in a way few others can.
“As much information as he’ll try to give you, he’ll give it to you in the simplest form he possibly can,” Bruschi said. “He teaches it where you can understand it, digest it and, OK, for my particular job, what I have to do on this play, I’m clear on that. And that’s all he wants you to think about.”
See job, do job. Leave the hard stuff to Belichick.
And so Lopez settled in to watch film of the most successful QB in NFL history with the most successful coach in NFL history expecting Belichick to gush over just how beautifully the system works.
Click.
Brady drops back. Brady unleashes a pass. Julian Edelman hauls it in for a first down.
Thoughts?
“I just thought it was a good play,” Lopez said.
That’s the mistake, Belichick explained. No play is pass-fail. There are degrees of success, and on this one, Brady had fallen well short of the mark.
“If he’d put the ball another 2 feet to the outside,” Belichick explained, “Edelman gains 15 more yards on the play. That changes the entire course of this drive.”
And the outcome of that drive changes what happens on the next one, impacts decisions made late in the game, shifts what the defense is asked to do — dominoes, each one knocking over another before reaching a final score.
Lopez shook his head. This is why he chose North Carolina. This was the secret sauce that made Belichick great, and here he was, a month removed from playing in the Sun Belt, being taught by the master.
“This guy knows it all,” Lopez said. “It’s one of those situations where you sit back, zip your lips and open your ears.”
ALGE CRUMPLER WAS at the tail end of his career when he landed with the Patriots in 2010. He was a star with the Atlanta Falcons, but his body was battered and, if he was being honest, his contributions to an NFL offense were limited now. He could block, which in New England was still a prized asset. He could teach, and the Patriots wanted a mentor for a talented young tight end by the name of Rob Gronkowski, whom they had drafted that year.
That’s what Belichick needed from Crumpler. No more, no less.
“He only puts you on the field to do the things that you’re good at,” Crumpler said.
So Crumpler was a bit surprised when he was tabbed as part of the Patriots’ leadership council that season — a backup tight end winding down his career, sharing the job with Brady, Jerod Mayo and Vince Wilfork. The way Crumpler saw it, he had no business being in the same room with those guys, so he mostly kept his mouth shut.
“I’m sitting there in that room with Tom and Jerod and Vince, and [Belichick’s] getting in-depth with them, and they’re being very candid,” Crumpler recalled. “I didn’t want to say a thing. Why do I need to say anything with this group that’s been here so many years?”
After a few minutes of conversation with the stars, Belichick finally turned and glared at Crumpler, who was silently watching the proceedings.
“You’re here for a f—ing reason,” Belichick said. “Open your mouth.”
Suddenly, a light switched on. The man at the top had given Crumpler his blessing to offer real insight on a team he’d just joined.
“It created a dialogue,” Crumpler said, “and it was a great season.”
Bruschi was already a fixture in the Patriots’ locker room when Belichick arrived in 2000, and at the time, he was best known, as Bruschi said, as “the coach who failed in Cleveland.”
That turned out to be a luxury, Bruschi said. The pair “grew up” together, a relationship of mutual respect in which the player felt empowered to push back.
After three Super Bowls, however, Bruschi saw things begin to change as new players arrived. Belichick certainly wasn’t a failure, but neither was he a normal coach anymore.
“They’d see Belichick as a legend,” Bruschi said. “It’s going to be difficult for these kids to get over the fact that he’s highly accomplished, and he’s just a coach that’s trying to get you better.”
The image is tougher to dismiss when a horde of cameras follows Belichick at every public appearance, and his girlfriend, Jordon Hudson, is a social media star.
For Belichick, however, it’s all “noise.”
“It is what it is,” Belichick said, in his typically subdued tone during an interview with ESPN.
And yet, inside the football facility, it’s an image Belichick has tried to discourage. His first team meeting he wore a suit and tie, receiver Jordan Shipp said, and after that, it was all cut-off sweatshirts.
He has made a point of being accessible to players, getting involved in all segments during practice, insisting on an air of approachability.
“Some of it is me coming to them,” Belichick said.
It’s the side of Belichick few outside the locker room see, but, if anything, it’s the real Belichick.
“You’ll see Coach laugh,” Crumpler said of his time in New England. “You never see it in the media. He can tell a story every day that will make you laugh, but still be serious at the same time. That was great.”
It was mid-May, however, and Shipp had to go to his head coach with a request for some time away.
There were meetings scheduled Shipp knew were important, but his younger brother was going to graduate that week, and …
Belichick stopped him in his tracks.
“That’s something you don’t miss,” Belichick told him.
Skip the meetings. Go home. Be with family. That mattered more.
If there’s anything the UNC sophomore has learned about his new head coach in the past eight months, it’s that the image Belichick has curated with the media has never matched reality for his players.
“Sometimes you forget it’s the greatest coach of all time,” Shipp said. “His office is always open. I can go in and watch film whenever. It’s a safe space with him at all times.”
JAMIE COLLINS HAD crushed the combine in 2013, and a slew of requests followed from teams hoping for private workouts ahead of the draft. He had participated in his share, but by early April, he was done. He had called his agent and given an ultimatum: no more.
It was a little strange then that his phone kept buzzing one morning soon after his edict. He had calls from his agent, a few coaches, some teammates. He ignored them all.
Then came the beating on his bedroom door, his roommate yelling, “Bill Belichick wants to see you.”
Belichick was interested in drafting Collins, and no mandate against additional private workouts was going to stop him from seeing the guy play, so he simply showed up in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, unannounced, and expected Collins to comply.
Collins did.
“He put me through it, man,” Collins said. “He tried to break me.”
Collins’ determination was the last thing Belichick needed to see before the Patriots drafted him in the second round. He would spend seven years playing for Belichick before following him into coaching this year at North Carolina.
That’s the other part of Belichick’s magic formula, Collins said. He wants players willing to maximize all Belichick has to teach them. It’s a two-way street. He demands much, but the buy-in from his players — they have to provide that willingly. That’s the test they must pass before they can gain access to the vault of football knowledge Belichick has to share.
Upon arrival in Chapel Hill, Belichick branded the Tar Heels as “the 33rd NFL team,” conjuring an image of militaristic fervor — all football, all the time. And yet, UNC’s players insist it’s not that way at all. If anything, they’re enjoying more freedom than ever.
“I was expecting him to be a lot of what you see in interviews — very mundane, always cussing you out,” safety Will Hardy said. “He’s an encourager.”
Yes, Belichick has brought a lot of the NFL to UNC — GM Michael Lombardi, a former Patriots strength coach, a chef.
But, Lopez said, there are fewer meetings than he was used to at South Alabama, and while the players are expected to work with a sense of professionalism, Belichick and his staff have largely allowed them the freedom to do so without micromanagement.
“They expect you to want to be great,” Lopez said. “It’s more like they expect you to want to learn it. It’s a lot different than South Alabama. They give you more room to function.”
He did that in pros, and he’s giving the Tar Heels the same freedom to choose their path.
“He treats you like a grown man,” Collins said. “And he’s going to provide everything you need to be successful. That’s where that expectation comes from. He’s not going to ask anything from you that he hasn’t already given you [what] you need to accomplish it.”
There are ample questions about how Belichick’s NFL pedigree will translate to the college game, and his interactions with 18- to 22-year-old players is at the top of the list.
But Collins admits that might be the one way his old coach has changed. Belichick has softened around the edges a bit.
“I’ve seen the Bill that was coaching us,” said Collins, UNC’s inside linebackers coach. “And I’ve seen a different side of Bill coaching these guys. That’s the eliteness of him, understanding situations. It’s what makes him great. It’s still Bill though.”
Fauria thinks the new age of college football actually lends to Belichick’s strengths. Players view themselves as professionals more than ever before, and in a game increasingly determined by dollars and cents, the old rules of placating personalities rather than simply paying for talent are out the window.
“If this was 10 years ago, I don’t know if he’d have the stomach for it,” Fauria said. “I’m not sure if he’s willing to go to someone’s house and do ‘The Electric Slide’ in someone’s living room. But Bill is prepared for this. He’s tailor-made for this job based on how it has evolved.”
Will it look a little different at North Carolina? Probably, but the core of the process, Bruschi said, won’t change. From those first days in the Patriots’ locker room in 2000 to the first days in Chapel Hill now, Belichick is the same guy with the same laser focus on football and the same approach to building a team. The success or failure of that methodology will, according to the players who’ve won rings with him in New England, depend on how much these Tar Heels are willing to maximize the experience, not on how well Belichick adapts to his new surroundings.
“If you’re looking for structure, you’re going to get it,” Fauria said. “If you’re looking for knowledge, you’re going to get it. If you’re looking for a road map and directions and information and the why — why are we doing this? — he literally tells you. He’d give you examples. Tons of information. When people say he’s going to have you more prepared than anybody, I don’t think that’s hyperbole. It’s demanding and it’s hard, but if you crave the challenge and appreciate the grind and you love football, there’s nobody better.”
ARLINGTON, Texas — Nathan Eovaldi‘s impressive streak for Texas ended with a dud, but without a decision in a victory that the wild card-chasing Rangers really needed.
After going 6-0 with a 0.47 ERA in six starts since the start of July, Eovaldi was tagged for three home runs while allowing season highs of five runs and eight hits in five innings against the Arizona Diamondbacks on Monday night. The Rangers were down 5-1 when he exited, but won 7-6 in 10 innings to end their four-game losing streak.
“That’s all that matters at the end of the day,” Eovaldi said. “Regardless how well I do out there or anything, it’s about the team winning the games. Especially with where we are at this point of the season and everything.”
The 35-year-old right-hander struck out three, walked one and hit two batters. He got a no-decision because Rowdy Tellez homered in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game, and Jake Burger delivered a pinch-hit RBI single in the 10th.
“Nate’s been so, so good. And he just showed that, hey, you’re gonna have occasional games where you don’t quite command it as well. And they took advantage of it,” manager Bruce Bochy said. “But he’s picked us up so many times. So man, what a great job by the boys. And find a way to win that ball game with just a gutty effort by everybody, bullpen, hitters. We needed this one.”
Eovaldi had given up only six runs total over his previous seven starts, and half of those runs came in the same game. There had only been two long balls against him his past 14 games.
When he pitched one-hit ball over eight innings in a 2-0 win over the New York Yankees last Tuesday, it was the 13th time in a 14-game span allowing one or zero runs. Hall of Fame pitcher Bob Gibson is the only pitcher since 1900 to record that kind of streak, according to STATS, and he did it in 1968, the season he won both the NL Cy Young and MVP awards.
“I’ve got to make better pitches, stick to my strengths and what’s worked for me all year,” Eovaldi said. “And I kind of got away from that a little bit tonight.”
Even though Evoladi’s overall ERA rose from 1.38 to 1.71, that is still better than the 1.94 of qualified MLB leader Paul Skenes. The AL leader is reigning Cy Young Award winner Tarik Skubal at 2.35.
Eovaldi, who missed most of June with elbow inflammation, has thrown 116 innings in the Rangers’ 120 games. Pitchers need one inning per team game to qualify as a league leader.
Arizona’s first five batters were retired before rookie first baseman Tyler Locklear homered in the second. Jake McCarthy opened the third with a double and Corbin Carrol followed with his 26th homer, a shot that ricocheted off the right-field pole. Ketel Marte was then hit by a pitch on his left elbow before Geraldo Perdomo’s 12th homer for a 5-0 lead.
“I didn’t feel like my splitter was as good as it has been. I thought I threw a lot of pitches up at the top of the strike zone, and I feel like that’s where a lot the damage was,” Eovaldi said. “I fell behind in some of the counts. The Perdomo at-bat, I yanked a fastball right down the middle. … The two-run shots, they hurt.”
Eovaldi benefitted from double plays in both the fourth and fifth innings to avoid giving up any more run. The Dbacks were coming off a 17-hit game in their 13-6 win at home over Colorado on Sunday, when they set a franchise record with nine consecutive hits in the fifth inning – all with two outs.
Only four MLB pitchers since 1920 had a lower ERA than the 1.38 for Eovaldi in the first 19 starts of a season, with Gibson’s 1.06 for St. Louis in 1968 the lowest.
This is Eovaldi’s third season with the Rangers, who gave him the $100,000 All-Star bonus that is in his contract even though he was left off the American League All-Star team last month.
HOUSTON — Astros‘ All-Star closer Josh Hader was unavailable Monday night after experiencing shoulder discomfort.
Manager Joe Espada said after Houston’s 7-6 win over the Red Sox that the left-hander said “he just did not feel right” after a workout Monday, and the Astros sent him for testing.
“We’re waiting on those results, and we should have something more tomorrow,” Espada said.
Espada didn’t specify which shoulder was bothering Hader.
Hader, who is in his second season in Houston, is 6-2 with a 2.05 ERA and is tied for third in the majors with 28 saves in 48 appearances this season.