9.23.2005
Maddux Tries to Close It Out
When it comes to Greg Maddux I get irrational. I still find him to be the greatest pitcher of my lifetime, no matter what the numbers and Roger Clemens say. This is in the same vein as my blind love for, say, Widespread Panic, or a good chicken chimichanga: my analysis will forever be clouded by connections to my own life, connections that I probably don't have in common with you. But I can still feel completely assured when I say it: Greg Maddux is the greatest pitcher of my lifetime.
I learned to pitch by watching him: how to maximize the effect of an arsenal of pitches that was average to mediocre; how to predict a hitter's reaction to a pitch based on his reaction to the previous one; how to get ground balls; how to work every section of the strike zone and beyond. A two-seam fastball that darts back over the inside corner to a lefty for a called strike three has come to be known as "Maddux-like," as has the complete-game shutout that requires 78 pitches and under two hours to play. And while he was never as charismatic a figure on the hill as a Pedro Martinez or a John Smoltz, he was charmingly human in his competitive streak; you can always count on hearing one expletive from him per outing, plainly audible over the announcers and crowd noise, not in a hostile way but because he is pissed at himself. This usually happens during a relatively unimportant point in the game. The great ones stay on themselves.
At age 39, Maddux has lost what bite he once had on most of his pitches. The 4.14 ERA is pedestrian, as is the 13-13 record. He's now at 318 career wins, tied with Phil Neikro for 15th on the all-time list. He was a Hall-of-Famer long ago, his team is not going to the playoffs, and he's still under contract for one more year, so we are not seeing his swan song. As we head into the season's final week only one thing is at stake: Maddux's streak of seasons with at least 15 wins, currently a record 17 and counting.
As records go, this one is pretty low-wattage. Fifteen wins is an arbitrary mark, not beyond the reach of, in any given year, Jeff Suppan, Chris Capuano, or Paul Byrd--and Maddux hasn't had to be a Cy Young-caliber pitcher for 17 years in a row. His claim to fame will always be that run from 1992 to 1996 or so, when he would keep an ERA a full run lower than the league average amidst an environment of exploding offense all throughout the majors. He doesn't need the marks for consistency to make it into Cooperstown.
Still, when a team runs out of things to play for on the season, it sometimes has to make things up. It is in this spirit that Dusty Baker has finagled the Cubs' rotation to allow Maddux the two more chances he needs to reach 15 wins in his worst season since his 1987 rookie campaign. Maddux has said all the right things to the press, insisting that he doesn't care, but he's not exactly turning down the extra work either. Reportedly he won't even make the second start if he doesn't win the first. We don't exactly lack for interesting subplots to the 2005 season, not with the AL playoff races being what they are, and not with the steroid speculation simmering perpetually as it is, but this is the one I'll be paying the most attention to. It's not for the sake or the record itself, but rather for the sake of seeing Greg Maddux take on a new mini-game within the real game: win your next two starts, buddy, or else. Like I said, rationality doesn't enter into it.
I learned to pitch by watching him: how to maximize the effect of an arsenal of pitches that was average to mediocre; how to predict a hitter's reaction to a pitch based on his reaction to the previous one; how to get ground balls; how to work every section of the strike zone and beyond. A two-seam fastball that darts back over the inside corner to a lefty for a called strike three has come to be known as "Maddux-like," as has the complete-game shutout that requires 78 pitches and under two hours to play. And while he was never as charismatic a figure on the hill as a Pedro Martinez or a John Smoltz, he was charmingly human in his competitive streak; you can always count on hearing one expletive from him per outing, plainly audible over the announcers and crowd noise, not in a hostile way but because he is pissed at himself. This usually happens during a relatively unimportant point in the game. The great ones stay on themselves.
At age 39, Maddux has lost what bite he once had on most of his pitches. The 4.14 ERA is pedestrian, as is the 13-13 record. He's now at 318 career wins, tied with Phil Neikro for 15th on the all-time list. He was a Hall-of-Famer long ago, his team is not going to the playoffs, and he's still under contract for one more year, so we are not seeing his swan song. As we head into the season's final week only one thing is at stake: Maddux's streak of seasons with at least 15 wins, currently a record 17 and counting.
As records go, this one is pretty low-wattage. Fifteen wins is an arbitrary mark, not beyond the reach of, in any given year, Jeff Suppan, Chris Capuano, or Paul Byrd--and Maddux hasn't had to be a Cy Young-caliber pitcher for 17 years in a row. His claim to fame will always be that run from 1992 to 1996 or so, when he would keep an ERA a full run lower than the league average amidst an environment of exploding offense all throughout the majors. He doesn't need the marks for consistency to make it into Cooperstown.
Still, when a team runs out of things to play for on the season, it sometimes has to make things up. It is in this spirit that Dusty Baker has finagled the Cubs' rotation to allow Maddux the two more chances he needs to reach 15 wins in his worst season since his 1987 rookie campaign. Maddux has said all the right things to the press, insisting that he doesn't care, but he's not exactly turning down the extra work either. Reportedly he won't even make the second start if he doesn't win the first. We don't exactly lack for interesting subplots to the 2005 season, not with the AL playoff races being what they are, and not with the steroid speculation simmering perpetually as it is, but this is the one I'll be paying the most attention to. It's not for the sake or the record itself, but rather for the sake of seeing Greg Maddux take on a new mini-game within the real game: win your next two starts, buddy, or else. Like I said, rationality doesn't enter into it.
