Five years after he throws his last fastball, Randy Johnson will be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Don’t take it from me, take it from a guy who knows something about pitching.
“There’s no question,” said Bryan Price, the Seattle Mariners pitching coach. “That’s a no-brainer: Hall of Fame, first ballot.”
If you had even suggested that to Price a dozen years ago, he’d have advised that you enroll in a drug rehab program.
His own pitching career over, Price had just begun a new life as a coach in the Mariners’ minor league organization. That year, 1989, the Mariners made a trade with Montreal that brought them a pitcher better known for his size than anything else. That pitcher was 6-foot-10 and his name was Randy Johnson.
Price might have had more knowledge about Johnson than anyone in the Seattle organization.
Price had been a freshman at Cal-Berkeley in the early ’80s when he heard about a “big, left-handed pitcher” who was playing for a high-school all-star team that he had been on the year before. Curious, Price went to watch the kid pitch and came away impressed by one thing: his size.
Over the next few years, Price would have other opportunities to see Johnson pitch, as he enrolled at Southern Cal.
Price remembered that Johnson “struggled a bit to throw strikes,” but that wasn’t uncommon for a lot of guys in college.
“You anticipated if he could harness everything, with his imposing stature, he could really be something,” Price said.
It took some time, but Johnson really became something: a three-time Cy Young Award winner – with maybe a fourth on the way. And Sunday night, he got the ultimate prize – a World Series championship.
Best of all, he was the winning pitcher in the Arizona Diamondbacks’ 3-2 victory over the New York Yankees in the deciding Game 7. But he didn’t get it in his usual role as a starting pitcher. He got it as a reliever, closing out the game with 1 1/3innings of perfection. And he did it after throwing 101 pitches in a 15-2 victory the day before.
At least one man was “stupified” by Johnson’s performance on Sunday. “He blew my mind away, the way he came in and was able to throw quality pitches,” Price said. “That his body could do it at 38 years old is amazing.
“You can only refer to your own personal abilities. I could barely play a game of catch the day after I pitched. I was 27 when I walked away from the game. If he had been 25, I would still have been overwhelmed by what he did.”
I was happy that Johnson got his ring, even though I still think he tanked it in his last half-season with the M’s. How he could go 9-10 and then suddenly turn it around and go 10-1 with Houston was a little hard to comprehend.
I heard a national sports radio talk-show host say that Johnson’s relief appearance nailed down a spot in the Hall of Fame for him, if he hadn’t already secured one.
I think it was already a foregone conclusion that he was in. Price surely did. “His numbers are too consistent over the last seven or eight years,” he said.
Over the last nine years, Johnson is 151-53, with two 20-win seasons and a pair of 19-win campaigns. His overall major league record is 200-101, a .664 winning percentage. A fellow he was often compared to during the World Series, Hall of Famer Sandy Koufax, was 165-87, a .655 mark.
Who would have thought we would ever mention Johnson in the same breath with Koufax?
One man with some insight into how good Johnson would become was Nolan Ryan. The night he suffered a career-ending injury against the Mariners in the Kingdome, Ryan predicted that Johnson would succeed him as the dominant power pitcher in the American League in the ’90s.
I don’t know how many years Johnson has left as a starting pitcher. I’d assume, if he can stay healthy and based on his 21-6 mark this season, he has a couple of more effective seasons, at least.
What then? Ride off into the Arizona sunset?
Depends. Depends on whether he’s tired of pitching, tired of the baseball lifestyle.
If he isn’t, a smart pitching coach would go to him with this offer: Randy, old boy, how ‘bout becoming a closer?
He’d be a natural. Even if he’d lost a few mph off his fastball, he could still zing it up there in the mid-90s. And he’d still have that nasty slider. And he’d still have that imposing presence.
Price could see Johnson in that role. Nine years ago, no. He was too wild. “But he’s almost a command pitcher now,” Price said. “He just doesn’t walk as many hitters as he used to. He’s so overpowering that he forces you to swing the bat. The last thing you want to do is let him get two strikes on you because he has so many different ways to get you out.”
Price is amazed not only by Johnson, but by a handful of other big-leaguers who are flourishing in what we ordinarily think of as a player’s twilight years – his mid-to-late 30s. Players such as Roger Clemens, Greg Maddux, Barry Bonds, Jamie Moyer and Edgar Martinez are showing that if you take care of your body, your body will take care of you.
Price believes there is one common thread connecting all of these guys. And it isn’t money.
“I don’t think you can have the types of performances these guys are having without a great passion to win,” he said. “That’s what separates them from some guys who have reached a ‘comfortability’ level and are still having fun but don’t want to work as much.”
There can be no doubt that Randy Johnson has that passion to win. Or that a spot in Cooperstown awaits him.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.