There is something energetic, almost spiritual, cooking inside this Marlins clubhouse. That something is endemic of any team that learns to win, builds confidence, and coheres into a formidable gestalt. Watching Max Meyer and Otto Lopez accept their All-Star appointments in front of the entire clubhouse, that something was visible in the face of Kyle Stowers, who beamed with pride as Meyer spoke of “the most fun I’ve had playing baseball” and emphasized that it would be even better in October.

Lopez, when asked about how it felt to set the club record for hits before the All-Star break, deflected also, saying that all he cared about was bringing October baseball to Miami.

For an organization that prides itself on a brand of forward-thinking, analytics driven strategy, it seems that players drinking the Kool-Aid has imprinted something unquantifiable on this team. Something beyond data, or simple wins and losses. For all the talk of Clayton McCollough’s wonky lineup cards and rigid conformity to the front office’s vision—think the antithesis to Moneyball’s Art Howe portrayal—he seems to be well liked by the players and is as much a part of this currently high-functioning organism as anyone on the staff.

Of course, success breeds camaraderie on its own. Any sports team that wins develops a certain ease, as players are more wont to accept their roles, contribute how they can, and adhere to the managerial strategy that is evidenced to work by the continued on-field result. It is impossible to quantify what a willingness to say, accept a strict platoon as has Owen Caissie, or an early hook from an 8^th inning perfect game attempt as Eury Perez endured, contributes to winning. But the Marlins seem to have impressed on their chosen players a certain flexibility, and with it a laser focus on winning at all costs. They do not have hard-won egos yet, as many of them were previously desperate for an opportunity or unproven.

Another thing I’ve noticed: faith seems to be a common denominator between many of the Marlins players, from Meyer to Marsee to Lopez. It makes me wonder if spirituality is considered a “winning ingredient” for the front office and suggests to them an underlying belief in something larger than themselves, a commitment to unseen truths bearing fruit in time. Just a stipulation, of course. And many MLB players are religious.

Of course, only time will tell whether those team-first attitudes stick if the team continues to win and succeeds in its goal of bringing October to Miami. Jacob Marseee, for example, will have to respond whenever Cam Cannarella gets a Spring Training invite or callup. Certain players will be traded unexpectedly. Nobody has endured a true stress test. They are here, and their first weekend of a good home crowd without mainly visiting fans in the seats resulted in a deflating sweep.

This second half will continue to bring it. The Marlins are not surprising anyone now. They will need to respond, as a collective, to keep the good energy flowing.