A ‘great redneck’ who is just a good ol’ boy

This is what impresses me about Roy Corcoran (besides his steely nerves on the mound and the late break on his fastball at the plate):

Told recently that the winner of a local radio contest would win a trip to any sports event in the world, he responded with enthusiasm.

“You mean, even Talladega?”

Yep, I like this guy. He’s got NASCAR in his heart, bass fishing as his hobby and a darting 90 mph fastball as his craft.

As veteran Seattle Mariners relief pitcher Arthur Rhodes described Corcoran: “He’s a great redneck.”

Corcoran made the Mariners notice him with an impressive spring training and, despite starting the season at Class AAA Tacoma, he was up with the big-league team on April 2 after J.J. Putz went on the disabled list.

He’s been just what the Mariners needed, and I’m not talking about the necessity for a human yo-yo between Seattle and Tacoma. They’ve used Corcoran 10 times in relief this season, and he’s given them a 1.62 earned run average in 10 2/3 innings.

Corcoran’s reward Saturday was a trip back to Tacoma. He became the unfortunate victim of Erik Bedard’s return from the disabled list, being optioned to the Rainiers to make roster room for Bedard.

Something tells me Corcoran will be back, because he’s been too good on the mound. He’s good in the clubhouse, too, a popular guy around his teammates.

He’s a 27-year-old yes-sir, yes-ma’am Louisiana boy through and through, and you might need a translator to understand his Bayou drawl/twang.

“Talladay-ga, oh ma-yan that would be an experience!” Corcoran said with the enthusiasm of a guy who’d just met Dale Earnhardt. “Now that would be a bla-yast!”

He makes former Mariner Ryan Franklin’s Oklahoma accent sound like perfect annunciation. Like Franklin, Corcoran grew up in a small town — Slaughter, La., population of about 1,000 when the whole family is in town.

Corcoran, 28, and his 30-year-old brother Tim (also a pitcher who is recovering from an injury with the Florida Marlins) share a home on one portion of the 130 acres where his parents live.

“And my two sisters live on the other side of the pasture,” he said.

He loves it down there in the offseason because it’s the exact opposite of his baseball life.

“It’s as laid-back as it can be,” Corcoran said. “Nobody gets in a hurry. Everybody goes to work. Everybody comes home. And we all meet at mama’s house and drink coffee and chit-chat. All the grandkids are there, and then everybody goes home.

“Away from the ballfield, I’m as easy-going as can be. You’d never know I played baseball for a living. Nobody does. Everybody back home is wondering why I don’t act different, why I always go to these little places and talk to everybody. They wonder why I don’t act like a high-profile guy because I’m a ballplayer, but I’m exactly the opposite. I like to talk to people and I make conversation with anybody.”

Credit his parents, father Roy Elliott and mother Barbara Gail, with drilling that quality in their kids. When Roy and his brother were barely into their teenage years, their parents drove them to bigger towns to play ball where their talents would be exposed.

“Dad never coached us; he never got in the middle of anything like that,” Corcoran said. “But we practiced a lot when we were young. We would sit in the living room and Dad would throw tennis balls at us. We would take ground balls in the living room.”

While it became clear his brother’s talent was on the mound, Roy Corcoran became a shortstop who idolized Ozzie Smith of the St. Louis Cardinals. He and the family would drive to Houston and watch the Cardinals when they played at the Astrodome.

Corcoran didn’t begin pitching seriously until he was at Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College, and despite pitching well there it didn’t seem he had a future as a pro.

“I didn’t get drafted, and I figured, ‘Well, that’s it. I’ll go to work now,’” he said.

Then the Montreal Expos signed him as a minor league free agent in 2001 and sent him to rookie ball in Jupiter, Fla.

“I was really nervous because I’d never been away from home very much,” he said.

That’s when older brother Tim guided him.

“He helped me out a lot with the transition, with being away from home for such a long period of time,” Corcoran said. “He gave me a heads-up about how things would be.”

This is his eighth pro season and, despite pitching in 16 games with the Expos and Nationals over the years, it’s clearly his best opportunity. Corcoran believes he’s more prepared mentally than ever.

“I’ve always been a guy who tried to overpower people. If I would just sit back and let that 90, 92 mph fastball work instead of trying to throw it 100, I’ll be more successful,” he said. “I think I’ve figured that out.”

And if he’d never figured it out, then Corcoran would be living a simple existence back home in Louisiana.

“Probably be working construction,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of family that’s put their time in and doing well for themselves now.”

He worked in construction himself about three offseasons, but also at a local chemical plant and at a paper mill. And even if he stays with the Mariners most of this season and makes a few hundred grand, Corcoran says nothing will change. He’ll still go back home for the winter and work.

“I’ll work in the offseason regardless if I’ve got enough money,” he said. “There’s too much down time. I’ve got to be doing something.”

What about NASCAR?

What about bass fishing?

“Me and my brother, we been talkin’ about getting a bass boat,” Corcoran said. “We just might do that. That would be a bla-yast.”

Kirby Arnold’ is The Herald’s major league baseball writer