For nearly two decades, Bartolo Colón was the definition of a pitcher’s pitcher. A Cy Young winner, an innings-eater, a journeyman who outlasted almost everyone. But hitting? Not a chance. In sixteen big-league seasons, he hadn’t hit a single home run. His at-bats were comedy — the helmet flying off, the spin-around swing, the crowd laughing with him. Then, one swing changed everything. Padres pitcher James Shields left a fastball over the plate. Colón turned on it — and the laughter turned to d