TAMPA — Enjoy it. Soak it in. You will not see anything like it again any time soon.
You are watching the final chapters of someone described by Phil Hughes as “larger than life” and by Brian Cashman as a “rock star” and by Andy Pettitte as “the greatest pitcher ever.”
That is why as Yankees’ workouts for 2010 began yesterday, we turned to the finish. We open with The Closer.
EX-YANKEE WANTS DAMON WITH TIGERS
Mariano Rivera is 40, and by all logic that should mean the curtain is descending. But what is logic with Rivera? His age-39 season, after all, stands seamlessly with any of his best campaigns, and his best campaigns “make him the best closer ever,” Jorge Posada said.
Surgeons who have cut into skin and muscle and bone could attest that he really is not an android. So, at some point, the birth certificate will win. Not yet, though already the cutter that was once 95-96 mph is 89-91 mph. Thus Rivera is a great symbol that location and movement really do matter more than velocity. But how much more can he lose and still remain effective: 88 mph, 87, 86?
“The slower he throws, the more the ball moves,” Hughes said. “I really think he could pitch at 84 mph because the cutter will move 3 feet. Also, he is like a video game where you can control putting the ball exactly where a hitter can’t hit it. It sounds strange, but we play with a video game.”
This is the reverence for Rivera. There is something about him. A grace, a dignity. These qualities combined with his skill and results give him a Koufax-ian glean. Think about when the great Dodger lefty showed up on Monday in Mets camp. Forty-four years after his final pitch, Sandy Koufax elicits a reaction that transcends pitching. He still turns heads, evokes whispers, hypnotizes a crowd. There is magic, charisma, aura.
When I think about players who might draw the same reaction years from now, I think of Rivera. Heck, Posada admits to “awe” with Rivera, and Posada first caught Rivera nearly two decades ago in the minors.
Why? It is about longevity in a job known for its rise-and-fall, Gagne-esque brevity. It is about an unshakeable nature that enables him to flourish at the end — of both games and seasons. Eight closers entered last postseason. Seven messed up. Rivera’s team won a championship. It is about how the Yankees have played tactically since Rivera’s ascension, counting outs until he could be deployed. In the playoffs last year — despite the age — there were calls for him to pitch in the eighth inning and even the seventh.
But, again, this is about more than being the greatest closer, possibly the greatest postseason pitcher. He is humble, yet possibly the most self-confident player in the majors. He carries a regal flair without arrogance. He can be beaten, but never defeated.
Rivera’s mere physical arrival in the bullpen around the sixth inning each game transforms the tenor from frat house to laboratory. He picks a different reliever to sit next to daily to play psychiatrist about yesterday’s failure or pitching coach about today’s challenges. “It is amazing,” Hughes said. “He throws one pitch, yet knows everything about every pitch.”
It is about his annual stop across the street to the Yankees’ minor league camp where he will gather prospects to share his wisdom.
“He’s in street clothes,” Cashman said. “He is not asked to do it and no one else does do it, but him. You have to see it. It is E.F. Hutton stuff. When he talks, people listen.”
It is about his annual jaunts to the Yankees’ Dominican base where the organization’s pitching coordinator Nardi Contreras said, “He is talking to kids in a room filled with pictures of him on the wall and you have to see the expression on the faces.”
He defines living legend and defies the clock. But that clock is ticking. So enjoy this, soak it in. Another Rivera is not coming around any time soon.