Mariano Rivera acquired a new first name this season.
“Yeah, now everyone calls me 41-year-old Mariano Rivera,” the premier closer in history says, a smile at the corner of his mouth. “It doesn’t bother me.”
I hear he is being a bit diplomatic about that. Earlier in the season, a friend of Rivera said, the righty was not thrilled to have his age attached as an adjective before his name, particularly when manager Joe Girardi did it in explaining being careful with his closer.
Rivera, modest as a Nowitzki, nevertheless is as prideful as any athlete. He sees honor in durability, nobility in the stoicism to work through aches and pains. He has never used his birth certificate as an excuse and he would prefer others not do it for him.
After all, here he is still grinding out games and innings and genius while younger men in his own bullpen have already withered.
Pedro Feliciano and Damaso Marte have combined for zero innings. Rafael Soriano, positioned as Rivera’s set-up man and potential heir, lasted 15 unimpressive innings before also landing on the disabled list. Joba Chamberlain, another who has flitted in and out of the imaginary line of succession to Rivera, is to undergo Tommy John surgery Thursday.
And here is Rivera, third-oldest pitcher in baseball (only Boston knucklerballer Tim Wakefield and Texas lefty specialist Arthur Rhodes are older), still healthy and productive; not needing an age-related mulligan, not needing a line of succession yet.
“I don’t even think about it,” Rivera said of his sturdiness. “I just thank God for today.”
The man with so many major league yesterdays is being modest. He may have heavenly help and DNA advantages, but he also has a well-earned rep for treating his job with seriousness. With some prodding, he will mention a fastidiousness about diet, exercise, rest.
“Baseball is the school that never stops teaching,” Rivera said about learning more annually about taking care of himself, preserving the gift in his right arm. “My wish was to stay in the big leagues, so I never take any of this for granted.”
Amazingly, he is not just upright, but as valuable at this moment as any time in his days as a Yankee. The dependable portion of the bullpen is now Rivera and David Robertson. After that is hope that Luis Ayala has turned back the clock, Boone Logan could rediscover last year and that a kid — spin the wheel on a Kevin Whelan or Hector Noesi or some other mystery guest — can provide dependability.
“This [the pen] was supposed to be the strength of this team,” Rivera said, nodding to his left where the consecutive lockers of Soriano, Feliciano and Marte are next to his. “No one thought we would be in this position in spring training. I wouldn’t say I am worried, but it is different than we expected and more difficult now. But I am going to war with what we have and what we have is capable of doing the job.”
Optimism and self-confidence are as much a part of Rivera’s reliever tool bag as his cutter. He has used those traits to accumulate 575 saves going into last night, 26 fewer than record holder Trevor Hoffman. Yet as he nears an actual record, he receives none of the fanfare associated with Derek Jeter’s attempts to become the 28th man to reach 3,000 hits.
“It is better for me to go under the radar,” Rivera said. “I think it is right what Jeter is getting; he is going to be the first Yankee ever to 3,000 hits. To me that is amazing. We are talking Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra. None of them did it. But he is going to do it, and I can’t wait to see it.”
As opposed to Jeter, who is four-and-a-half years younger, Rivera has so far made few statistical concessions to age. If you are looking for dents, his WHIP (1.07) and OPS against (.580) remain elite for mortals, but are his highest since 2007. Lefties were hitting him better than normal (.273).
But his ERA was still 1.85, he had not allowed a homer in 24 1/3innings and had 16 saves in 19 tries. That was the pitching of someone ignoring age; same as he ever was. Closing games. Closing on Hoffman. Opening the mind to the possibility of brilliance for someone whose first name is “41-year-old.”