Luvofthegame
09-08-2006, 02:54 PM
Padres closer's finishes differ from those of other relievers
By Barry M. Bloom
MLB.com
9/7/06
As Padres closer extraordinaire Trevor Hoffman nears Lee Smith's all-time record of 478 saves, the never-ending discussion of how experts have evaluated the accomplishments of closers throughout recent baseball history continues to rage.
The save rule was instituted in 1969, was abridged twice by 1975, and has been static ever since. Thus, the definition of the save has remained the same for 31 years. But the way managers use their closers hasn't. And that is the point of dispute.
"No matter what, for Hoffman it's a tremendous achievement," said Cardinals manager Tony La Russa on Thursday night before his National League Central-leading club defeated the Diamondbacks, 6-2, at Chase Field. "He's done it for so long. Hitters keep seeing him over and over again and he keeps getting them out."
Hoffman heads into San Diego's final 23 games needing five saves to tie the enigmatic Smith, who pitched for eight teams in his 18-year career that ended in 1997. Smith came to the Majors among the generation of closers who often pitched two innings or more to earn a save, and retired among the generation of closers who are now largely final-inning specialists.
La Russa, then the manager of the A's, said that too much emphasis is placed on the change in tactics that occurred in the late 1980s when he, pitching coach Dave Duncan and Dennis Eckersley joined forces in Oakland.
"Everything that's happened with relievers has been an evolution," La Russa said.
Hoffman's career began in 1993 while Eckersley was still going strong. A right-hander like the Eck, Hoffman has now pitched nearly 14 seasons for the same team and has also made the ninth inning his undisputed territory.
From Rollie Fingers, Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter to Eckersley, Hoffman and Mariano Rivera, the role of the closer has certainly evolved.
"Times have changed," said Steve Kline, the left-handed relief specialist for the Giants this season. "There's no more three-inning save guys. The sport is too specialized."
Unlike Fingers, Gossage or Smith, Hoffman, now 38, has never thrown more than 90 innings in a single season nor has he started a game. The 90 came for the Marlins and Padres in his first big-league season, but overall, he's averaged about 63 innings a year.
Former relievers, such as Gossage, scoff at such use.
"Don't even compare me with Hoffman or Rivera," said Gossage, who threw 102 innings for the Padres as late as 1984. "I'd love to have been used like them. I went and set up for Dennis at Oakland (in 1992 and 1993), so I know the way he was handled, how pampered he was over there. Not to take anything away from these guys, to compare what I did with what they did. ... It was even a joke with the coaches. We joked with Eckersley all the time."
The concept was simple. If you use a closer two or more innings a game he was good for three appearances a week, perhaps four. Use a closer for the ninth inning only, following a couple of good setup men (La Russa also used Rick Honeycutt and Gene Nelson back then) and the closer was good to go a lot more often.
La Russa, who managed the A's from 1986 to 1995, said the thought of having Gossage work just the ninth is tantalizing.
"If you had Gossage strong, pitching four or five times a week, my goodness," La Russa said. "It's scary to think about how good he'd be."
In its original form, a save was awarded to the pitcher who simply finished a game. A few years later the rule was given some definition. A pitcher was awarded a save if he came on with the tying run at least in the on-deck circle or if he pitched the last three innings. In 1975, the final codicil was added: at the time he came into the game with less than three innings to go he had to be protecting a lead of three runs or fewer.
No matter. Managers of that time, like Dick Williams and Bob Lemon, plucked their best guy out of the pen when the going got rough and left him in there. Gossage's performance for the Lemon-led Yankees in the famous 1978 one-game playoff at Fenway Park is a case in point.
Gossage came into the game against the Red Sox with one out in the seventh inning and pitched out of a jam for Ron Guidry. He then had to pitch out of his own self-made jams in the eighth and ninth innings, ultimately facing Carl Yastrzemski with two out, runners on first and third, a 5-4 lead, and the division title on the line.
Gossage, who hails from Colorado Springs, turned his back to the plate, took a deep breath, and thought to himself: "What's the worst thing that can happen? Tomorrow I'll be back in the Rockies."
Yastrzemski popped out to third baseman Graig Nettles in foul territory and the next day the eventual World Series-winning Yankees were in Kansas City.
That wouldn't happen today.
"The three-inning closer? I'd say those days are gone," said Bruce Bochy, the former catcher and Padres manager who played with Gossage on the Padres in the 1980s and has always had Hoffman, when healthy, as his closer. "Goose was a special case. I'm not going to use Hoffy like that, especially at this stage of his career."
By the time La Russa took over the A's and Eckersley arrived in 1987, it had already become implausible.
In Eckersley, La Russa had a pitcher with the right temperament: a guy who started 361 games and was ready to convert from starter to closer with the hope of jump-starting his career.
"He was a starter so he was used to pitching in the ninth inning," said La Russa, who never started Eckersley again after the 1987 season. "He enjoyed competition. Don Zimmer (at one time Eckersley's manager in Boston) told me that he would always be ready to pitch and he would never make any excuses."
La Russa parlayed Eckersley into a World Series title (1989) and three successive American League pennants (1988-90). Eckersley parlayed his adjusted role into 390 saves and a plaque hanging in the Hall of Fame.
Though the closer's role hasn't been the same since, La Russa hesitates to take the credit.
"The impetus for the reasoning was more Dave Duncan than it was me," said La Russa, referring to the man who is still his pitching coach in St. Louis. "The importance of the closer has been growing and growing."
Hoffman's stature is emblematic of that point. And as he gets near the all-time saves record, the discussion continues to rage on
By Barry M. Bloom
MLB.com
9/7/06
As Padres closer extraordinaire Trevor Hoffman nears Lee Smith's all-time record of 478 saves, the never-ending discussion of how experts have evaluated the accomplishments of closers throughout recent baseball history continues to rage.
The save rule was instituted in 1969, was abridged twice by 1975, and has been static ever since. Thus, the definition of the save has remained the same for 31 years. But the way managers use their closers hasn't. And that is the point of dispute.
"No matter what, for Hoffman it's a tremendous achievement," said Cardinals manager Tony La Russa on Thursday night before his National League Central-leading club defeated the Diamondbacks, 6-2, at Chase Field. "He's done it for so long. Hitters keep seeing him over and over again and he keeps getting them out."
Hoffman heads into San Diego's final 23 games needing five saves to tie the enigmatic Smith, who pitched for eight teams in his 18-year career that ended in 1997. Smith came to the Majors among the generation of closers who often pitched two innings or more to earn a save, and retired among the generation of closers who are now largely final-inning specialists.
La Russa, then the manager of the A's, said that too much emphasis is placed on the change in tactics that occurred in the late 1980s when he, pitching coach Dave Duncan and Dennis Eckersley joined forces in Oakland.
"Everything that's happened with relievers has been an evolution," La Russa said.
Hoffman's career began in 1993 while Eckersley was still going strong. A right-hander like the Eck, Hoffman has now pitched nearly 14 seasons for the same team and has also made the ninth inning his undisputed territory.
From Rollie Fingers, Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter to Eckersley, Hoffman and Mariano Rivera, the role of the closer has certainly evolved.
"Times have changed," said Steve Kline, the left-handed relief specialist for the Giants this season. "There's no more three-inning save guys. The sport is too specialized."
Unlike Fingers, Gossage or Smith, Hoffman, now 38, has never thrown more than 90 innings in a single season nor has he started a game. The 90 came for the Marlins and Padres in his first big-league season, but overall, he's averaged about 63 innings a year.
Former relievers, such as Gossage, scoff at such use.
"Don't even compare me with Hoffman or Rivera," said Gossage, who threw 102 innings for the Padres as late as 1984. "I'd love to have been used like them. I went and set up for Dennis at Oakland (in 1992 and 1993), so I know the way he was handled, how pampered he was over there. Not to take anything away from these guys, to compare what I did with what they did. ... It was even a joke with the coaches. We joked with Eckersley all the time."
The concept was simple. If you use a closer two or more innings a game he was good for three appearances a week, perhaps four. Use a closer for the ninth inning only, following a couple of good setup men (La Russa also used Rick Honeycutt and Gene Nelson back then) and the closer was good to go a lot more often.
La Russa, who managed the A's from 1986 to 1995, said the thought of having Gossage work just the ninth is tantalizing.
"If you had Gossage strong, pitching four or five times a week, my goodness," La Russa said. "It's scary to think about how good he'd be."
In its original form, a save was awarded to the pitcher who simply finished a game. A few years later the rule was given some definition. A pitcher was awarded a save if he came on with the tying run at least in the on-deck circle or if he pitched the last three innings. In 1975, the final codicil was added: at the time he came into the game with less than three innings to go he had to be protecting a lead of three runs or fewer.
No matter. Managers of that time, like Dick Williams and Bob Lemon, plucked their best guy out of the pen when the going got rough and left him in there. Gossage's performance for the Lemon-led Yankees in the famous 1978 one-game playoff at Fenway Park is a case in point.
Gossage came into the game against the Red Sox with one out in the seventh inning and pitched out of a jam for Ron Guidry. He then had to pitch out of his own self-made jams in the eighth and ninth innings, ultimately facing Carl Yastrzemski with two out, runners on first and third, a 5-4 lead, and the division title on the line.
Gossage, who hails from Colorado Springs, turned his back to the plate, took a deep breath, and thought to himself: "What's the worst thing that can happen? Tomorrow I'll be back in the Rockies."
Yastrzemski popped out to third baseman Graig Nettles in foul territory and the next day the eventual World Series-winning Yankees were in Kansas City.
That wouldn't happen today.
"The three-inning closer? I'd say those days are gone," said Bruce Bochy, the former catcher and Padres manager who played with Gossage on the Padres in the 1980s and has always had Hoffman, when healthy, as his closer. "Goose was a special case. I'm not going to use Hoffy like that, especially at this stage of his career."
By the time La Russa took over the A's and Eckersley arrived in 1987, it had already become implausible.
In Eckersley, La Russa had a pitcher with the right temperament: a guy who started 361 games and was ready to convert from starter to closer with the hope of jump-starting his career.
"He was a starter so he was used to pitching in the ninth inning," said La Russa, who never started Eckersley again after the 1987 season. "He enjoyed competition. Don Zimmer (at one time Eckersley's manager in Boston) told me that he would always be ready to pitch and he would never make any excuses."
La Russa parlayed Eckersley into a World Series title (1989) and three successive American League pennants (1988-90). Eckersley parlayed his adjusted role into 390 saves and a plaque hanging in the Hall of Fame.
Though the closer's role hasn't been the same since, La Russa hesitates to take the credit.
"The impetus for the reasoning was more Dave Duncan than it was me," said La Russa, referring to the man who is still his pitching coach in St. Louis. "The importance of the closer has been growing and growing."
Hoffman's stature is emblematic of that point. And as he gets near the all-time saves record, the discussion continues to rage on