SARASOTA, Fla. — On his forearm the words “Stronger Than All” are emblazoned in ink, and he can look down on them whenever he’s on the mound. Until he turned 18, he used to write those words on his cleats, but for his high school graduation present, Riley Cooper’s parents allowed him to label himself with the mantra that has defined his life.

It’s a lyric from a heavy metal song, Pantera’s “Strength Beyond Strength.” Cooper has listened to that song his entire life, before the words screamed over top the raucous melody really held meaning. They hold meaning now — they’re everything for the Orioles minor leaguer who has the stuff to belong and the big, burly frame and outsized personality to stand out.

Cooper is a lot like the metal songs that populate his playlist. Listen closely and there’s intention in the words, in the beat — it’s not just a tidal wave of energy blasted through an amp.

He bulldozes through lineups in his own way. He’s not a high-profile pitching prospect in Baltimore’s system; he doesn’t throw with the sort of high velocity that captivates scouts and makes front offices salivate.

But he gets outs — and then he’ll yell and scream as if the whole stadium can hear the music that courses through him.

“I have that in my head at all times,” Cooper said. “When they call my name, I flip that switch a little bit and get into that. That mentality is there, and I let it come out.”

For every Paul Skenes, there are dozens of pitchers with an arsenal similar to Riley Cooper, and each of them dreams of pitching in the biggest moments. The differentiator between Cooper and the dozens, however, might be his makeup — his heavy-metal listening, take-no-prisoners, full-throated confidence that turns on when he steps onto the mound.

That bravado was on display frequently throughout LSU’s path to the 2023 College World Series. Cooper pitched 9 2/3 innings in relief and allowed just one run. And after he tightroped out of sticky situations, Cooper yelled in a way that made him a social media sensation.

“Ain’t nobody can touch me!” Cooper screamed at one point, and it was hardly hyperbole during that stretch of games.

Cooper realizes the hyperbole, though. He’ll be the first to admit that he didn’t have the best stuff on that LSU pitching staff — that would be Skenes, of course, who went on to become the top overall pick in the 2023 draft and the National League Rookie of the Year for the Pittsburgh Pirates a year later.

Cooper, listed at 6-foot-2 and 270 pounds, was taken in the 13th round of the 2023 draft by the Orioles. His selection flew under the radar in comparison; his professional debut wasn’t flooded with television cameras; his arrival in the major leagues may be far off — and there’s no guarantee one will ever occur.

For however many dissimilarities between Skenes and Cooper there may be, there is one undeniable similarity.

“When people tell me about Coop, everyone always wants to judge that book by its cover, right?” said Wes Johnson, the pitching coach for Skenes and Cooper at LSU in 2023 who is now the head baseball coach at Georgia. “They look at his body, they look at his makeup. They immediately go, ‘Yeah, whatever.’ And I go, ‘No, you don’t know that kid. I know that kid. That kid’s a winner. That kid wants to win. He will do whatever it takes to win.’”

There are a handful of players from that LSU team who have that intangible desire to be on the right side of a score, Johnson said, and Cooper’s name is right there beside Skenes and outfielder Dylan Crews, whom the Washington Nationals selected with the second pick of that same draft.

Those two big-name prospects have already made it to the majors, and they’ve done it with fanfare. They are the sort of prospects rebuilding franchises rely upon — the Pirates and Nationals have staked much of their future to Skenes and Crews succeeding in the majors.

That’s not Cooper. The fate of the Orioles doesn’t stand on his left arm, or his metalhead ways. But in baseball, it takes all kinds. Just last season, 60 players appeared in a game for the Orioles. On a team as prospect-driven as the Orioles, it can be hard to remember there are players who weren’t taken first overall in the draft — but there are so many more of them than there are instant stars out of high school or college.

So players such as Cooper are worth knowing. Because you never know.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Johnson said. “Coop is going to get to the big leagues in some form or fashion, right? He may not be there long, or he may be there for 15 years. We don’t know the answer to these things. In the offseason, you’re going to see him, he’s going to be in the middle of a mosh pit.”

After a spring training start at Ed Smith Stadium, Skenes answered questions from a gaggle of reporters about his vast pitch mix, his season preparation, his offseason progress. And then Cooper’s name came up.

How would Skenes describe him?

“He’s a lefty reliever,” Skenes smirked. “I think that’s the best way to put it.”

Lefty relievers have a stereotype surrounding them. They’re a bit eccentric, be it with superstition or their arsenal. They can be junk ball throwers. And in Cooper’s case, he can be the kind who eats Starbursts between innings, dances in the clubhouse and then flips a switch when he takes the mound.

“Just an absolute animal,” Skenes said. “He’s not going to let anyone beat him. Just going after guys with his stuff. He believes in himself more than probably anyone I’ve ever played with.”

That last line is something — here’s Skenes, a former Air Force Academy cadet turned LSU champion-turned-MLB-superstar, and he doesn’t know anyone who believes in himself more than Cooper?

It goes back to the tattoo. Stronger Than All.

There’s a reason Cooper has a 25-minute pregame playlist he listens to before every game. The last song to play before he enters the stadium is “Strength Beyond Strength,” as it has been for years.

“That right there is just the mindset,” Cooper said. “Obviously, I’m not stronger than all. But it’s just the mindset of thinking that way and a way of life, always thinking that. A mindset with the way I go about everything. It always spoke to me.”

Cooper learned that from a young age in Fresno, California, as he and his dad listened to Pantera and other metal bands on car rides to and from games. But it’s under Johnson at LSU in 2023 when Cooper took that next step.

“Fake it ‘til you make it,” Johnson often told Cooper, and Cooper realized it was just another way to echo the meaning of his tattoo. When Johnson arrived, having just served as the Minnesota Twins’ pitching coach for 3 1/2 seasons, he saw the value of Skenes right away. But he also noticed how valuable Cooper could be.

Burly can be a way to describe Cooper, and that build can be deceptive. “I don’t look like most baseball players,” Cooper said, and the former All-State selection at Clovis North High School in California has used that as motivation. “Always having a chip on my shoulder, trying to prove people wrong,” he said.

Johnson saw that determination, and while the coach tweaked certain aspects of Cooper’s game, he largely let him be. Even though letting him be meant accepting Cooper only needs to throw 10 or 15 pitches to be ready for game action.

“It’s funny. You go back to the LSU staff, and you’ve got Skenes who does a four-hour warmup, and you’ve got Coop who warms up for about 20 minutes,” Johnson said. “That’s what makes this game great.”

During the College World Series, a reporter asked Cooper how he recovers so quickly between games. Cooper’s goofy off-field persona showed through when he said “water and sleep,” then added that “the weight on me helps me recover a little faster.”

He was teasing himself, as he does. In that way, he became a popular figure at LSU for more than the big outs he recorded.

“It goes back to that confidence and belief, right?” Johnson said. “I’ve said for years, if you get a guy with a little bit of talent, and you get him to believe he’s really, really good, and believe he can get out whomever — Ohtani or whoever you think the best hitter is in the league now — that guy is going to have a chance to win. And that’s Riley.”

Johnson is quick to admit that Cooper’s Stuff+ ratings likely aren’t very high. He doesn’t induce the most spin or create the highest velocity. Nor does he need to — not necessarily.

During his second and final year at LSU, Cooper led the team with 32 appearances, and he struck out 63 batters in his 61 2/3 innings. In 88 innings last season for Low-A Delmarva, the 23-year-old made a strong first impression in professional baseball with a 3.07 ERA and 88 strikeouts.

“I think everybody is caught up in the 100-mph arm, and I had them. I had them when I was with the Twins,” Johnson said. “And I’ve seen 100 get turned around and go into the second deck. And I’ve seen 90 to 92, executed, not get touched. And I think that’s another thing. Riley’s confidence and belief, but also he knows he can throw the ball where he needs to throw the ball. Is it going to be 100? No. Is it going to be 95? Probably not. But he knows he can execute pitches, and I think that still goes a long way in the game.”

Added Skenes, in his more succinct manner: “He doesn’t have the best stuff, but he’s all about getting outs.”

In early March, in the ninth inning of a spring training game, Cooper took the mound in an Orioles uniform for the first time. He was brought over from minor league camp to serve as an extra arm, and while many at Ed Smith Stadium had begun to shuffle toward the exits at the end of a game that didn’t count, the moment was massive for Cooper.

He said he was more nervous for that appearance than he was to compete in the College World Series, and it showed. Cooper walked a batter and allowed a two-out hit, putting himself in a jam with the score tied at 6.

But then Cooper wound back and struck out Blake Sabol, a 27-year-old who has played 121 games in the majors, to end the threat.

Cooper didn’t roar — he held that in for a bigger moment, when the stakes are higher — but he had gotten the opportunity to pitch in a big league uniform. A few days later, when he shagged fly balls as an extra player on the long bus ride to Lakeland, Florida, two fans yelled his way: “Go Tigers,” a nod to his recent LSU fame.

“It’s not the worst thing to be remembered as,” Cooper said, and it’s true. He’s a national champion. He pitched alongside Skenes. He even made it here, to the minor leagues, and into a spring training game.

“That’s a huge accomplishment in my life and I’m proud to talk about that,” Cooper said.

But? There’s a but, right?

Say what you will about the stout LSU folk hero, the one who captivated social media with his energy and fills clubhouses with metal music. Just don’t say his story ends there.

“I know I’m not done,” Cooper said, “and I want to prove I can pitch at the highest level.”