Chris Simmons never saw it coming.

Warming up with best friend A.J. Burnett before a game during their sophomore year of high school, Simmons -- the ace of the Central Arkansas Christian staff -- grinned and accepted the challenge when A.J. -- the third baseman -- wondered aloud who could throw the ball harder.

Simmons went first, rocking and dealing with perfect mechanics, punctuating his follow-through with a huge grunt. Burnett flashed his glove and caught the throw -- pop! As A.J. reached inside his glove to retrieve the ball, he smiled.

Now it was Burnett's turn: he reached back and let go. Simmons half-saw a white blur and raised his glove -- but not high enough and not soon enough.

The ball broke Simmons' jaw. In three places.

Eight years later, National League hitters can relate. Burnett has such an easy motion that it's hard to tell he can throw in the upper-90s until it's too late. Even the guy who sees his heater the most, Marlins catcher Charles Johnson, has a hard time tracking it: "It's hard to describe his ball. It's very explosive. It gets on me quicker than I expect."

Nothing about Burnett is as expected. One day six years ago, Burnett was a good prep third baseman. The next day, after blowing away the third-ranked team in Arkansas in his first-ever start, he was a major league pitching prospect. During the last month and half, he's followed three straight gems with four straight losses. In a recent start against the Devil Rays, he followed six straight strikes with six straight balls.

Managers and pitching coaches see that sort of thing and mumble under their breath, in unison: "Just ... throw ... strikes!" But where's the fun in that? It's precisely A.J. Burnett's unpredictability that makes him such a delight to watch. (That plus his talent: his W-L record was only 5-5 at the break, but his 3.10 ERA would have been good enough for fifth in the NL had he pitched enough to qualify.) "I am," says Burnett, with impressive understatement, "an interesting person."

Back in May, I sat with Burnett in the Marlins film room as he watched his ugly no-hitter for the first time. He laughed as he watched himself get wild in the eighth. When the TV play-by-play man mentioned that "A.J. Burnett has now thrown eight straight balls," Burnett observed, "That's normal."

He wasn't embarrassed; normal is not what he's after.

A.J. Burnett is not an All-Star. He's not even the staff ace. But he will be both someday, and we're telling you about him right now for one reason.

So you can see it coming.

Eric Adelson is an associate editor for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at eric.adelson@espnmag.com. Click here to read Eric's story on A.J. Burnett, which appears in the July 23 issue of ESPN The Magazine.