Andy Pettitte has arrived at his baseball eulogy, at an attempt to define 16 years that took him to places as diverse as the Canyon of Heroes and the Mitchell Report.
In trying to summarize a career well done and the condition of the Yankees now that Pettitte has made his retirement official, I come to this thought:
“Andy Pettitte was not A.J. Burnett.”
Pettitte is in a Cooperstown conversation not because he had Hall-of-Fame stuff like, say, Burnett, but because he maximized a good repertoire by limiting extra-base hits, shackling running games with an elite pickoff move, inducing double plays, and finding the calm and concentration to execute the handful of key pitches each game that determine outcomes.
He never stopped working on his craft, arriving in the major leagues one kind of pitcher and retiring another. He developed his signature cutter in the majors. His futile annual attempts to hone a changeup became a long-running joke on the team. But he never gave up, and in his waning seasons Pettitte’s changeup became a weapon, particularly as a contrast to his two-seam fastball, another pitch he perfected along the way.
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Pettitte falls into the unique category of players about whom you never heard a bad word inside a clubhouse. He was universally respected, in many cases loved. His sincerity was palpable. He cared about teammates, remained upbeat and non-judgmental. But mainly it was about how Pettitte performed his job.
In the past 48 hours, numerous ex-teammates used the words “accountability” or “responsibility” in speaking of Pettitte. He felt a burden not to let the clubhouse down. He treated side sessions like games, and his workout routines were methodical and manic. He refused excuses and defined dependability — which explains why his teammates rallied around him universally when he divulged his use of human growth hormone.
No team ever thought Pettitte’s failures came because he was unprepared mentally or physically. That is why the Yankees were always so comfortable handing him the ball in any circumstance: They knew he would be unafraid of the moment, committed fully to the responsibility. A former Yankee, who wanted anonymity because he did not want to insult any ex-teammates, said, “No one I ever played with cared more about doing well for the team than Andy Pettitte.”
In his second tour with the Yankees, which began at age 34 in 2007, Pettitte attained a Jedi-esque level. He had even greater peace in the storms. His pitching IQ enlarged to provide better insight into what would work and when. His self-assurance heightened, helping not only his confidence, but also that of his teammates. Some have said that in a crisis, simply looking down the bench at Pettitte generated the positive vibe of “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way.”
Which brings us from Andy Pettitte to Burnett, the anti-Pettitte. Burnett turned 34 last month and became more vital to the 2011 Yankees this month with Pettitte retiring in the aftermath of Cliff Lee’s rejection. Suddenly, Burnett is no worse than the No. 3 starter, while the Yankees play Russian Roulette with the fourth and fifth spots.
Thus, the Yankees must trust a pitcher who minimizes great stuff by being among the league leaders in hit by pitches, wild pitches and stolen bases allowed. His arsenal never evolves, so on days when the fastball or hard curve are absent, Burnett cannot summon finesse or a third pitch. Burnett does not execute well under stress. In fact, that is when you find his poorest work.
And no young player will gain confidence looking down the bench at a player who doubts himself as much as Burnett does.
New pitching coach Larry Rothschild already has had a tutorial with the righty that the Yankees want to believe will foster a more consistent Burnett. But how many pitchers leap from tremulous to trustworthy at this late date? In the end, Pettitte nearly did not listen to a heart that was telling him to retire because he knew how much the Yankees needed him, and how much now falls on Burnett.
“Mentally, [Burnett] needs to put blinders on and not worry about anything else,” Pettitte said. “God has given him an unbelievable arm and the ability to play this game and sometimes I think you can make it a little too confusing and a little too complicated, but I think if he continues to try to simplify things [results will be better]. I know he’s working hard. He wants to be great.”
Great officially retired yesterday. Andy Pettitte is gone. So the Yankees need the anti-Pettitte more than ever.