It’s the ninth inning and your team has a lead so slim it’s anorexic. The bad guys have the bases loaded and their best hitter at the plate. He’s been tearing the cover off the ball all night and looks ready to do it again. This is exactly the sort of situation he thrives in. There’s only one guy you can turn to: Your closer.
The closer is one of the most glamorous jobs in baseball. It’s also deceptively simple. You get the last out of the game with a lead so small that other team can tie or win. Doing this is called a save. Closers are usually brought in during the final inning, under all the stress and they usually need three outs. Seems simple. It’s not.
It takes a particular sort of headcase to be a closer. If you see them come into a game where they have a big lead, more often than not, you’ll see them destroy that big lead and ramp up the pressure to the level they feel comfortable at. These are deep sea fish. They breathe where others are crushed and explode where others breathe.
Kevin Gregg of the Blue Jays is a lot of things. He is not a closer.
If you look at his numbers you would be deceived. He is fourth in the American League in saves. He’s only blown a few. Even if the Jays had one of the best closers in the game, they might –at best– only have a few more wins.
What those numbers don’t tell you is the amount of nail-biting fuckduggery it’s taken for Gregg to get those saves. They don’t tell you how bad he looks under pressure, the lack of fear he inspires and just how quickly he goes to pieces. Those numbers don’t tell you that Kevin Gregg has been very lucky.
The first game back from the All Star Break, he saved a game on only six pitches and was aided by some remarkable defense from the new shortstop. That put me in a good mood and I figured: Hey it’s the second half of the ball season. A fresh start. What Gregg did in Tampa was complete bullshit but his numbers are fairly decent and he’s gotten results. Let’s give him another shake.
It took him one more game to blow all my goodwill right out the hatch while making me regret my moment of hometown kindness. And not because he simply pitched a bad game. I expect that to sometimes happen. But because he is SUCH A FAT HEADED PRICK when he does it.
Last night, he pitched against the Baltimore Orioles. The worst team in baseball. The worst team that baseball has seen for a while. They’re so bad, they’re often referred to as the OriLOLs. But the Jays had been taken to the woodshed by the OriLOLs starter, Guthrie and entered the ninth, holding onto a 3-2 lead. And here comes Kevin Gregg.
He struck out the first batter he faced on three pitches. Against the next batter, he got a bad call. A pitch that had been called a strike all night was suddenly no longer a strike. That’s it, I thought, Gregg is going to fall apart. And he did. a closer should never walk anyone and Gregg walked the bases loaded, getting one more out in the process. (Scott Moore flied out, which shows you just how bad the OriLOLs are. A sensible team would not be swinging at anything Gregg threw until he proved he could throw something over the plate.) Against the very worst team in baseball, the closer had walked the bases loaded. He was imploding. You could see it in his body language, his face and his pitches. Kevin Gregg was out of his depth.
Now, it did look like the umpire was squeezed him — not calling strikes that had been strikes all night. I can’t blame the ump for doing that. Gregg had almost attacked an umpire in Tampa. You do not make friends with bullshit like that. But a closer should have good enough stuff to throw it over the plate against Baltimore and still get outs. Gregg does not. He would not go near the plate. He was pitching, not with the aggression that speaks well of a closer, but with fear. The terror of being hit. By Baltimore!
Bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth. One run lead.
And Cito Gaston did the right thing. He fired Kevin Gregg.
pic nicked from here
He walked to the mound. Kevin Gregg sees him coming and you can read his lips: ”You got to be fucking kidding me.”
Cito was not kidding. Gregg was pulled. Instead of reacting how one is supposed to in that situation, quietly, walking to the dugout with your head down and just praying that the next guy gets you out of the mess you created, Kevin Gregg threw a tantrum. In front of millions of baseball fans, watching the highlights on ESPN, he told his manager to go fuck himself and stormed off.
You don’t often see Cito get pissed off. Whether you think it’s a good or bad thing, you can’t debate about how laid back the man is. He might actually be in a coma. And seeing Cito get angry on that bench, seeing the looks he gave Kevin Gregg, I was scared right through my television. You do not tell your manager to go fuck himself you definitely do not do it on the mound after YOU fucked up and YOU walked the bases loaded and YOU were going to lose the whole hard-fought game. You sit the fuck down and you shut the fuck up.
Shawn Camp came in. He threw a ball way wide of the plate. The ump called it a strike. That’s the ump’s way of saying: “Fuck you Kevin Gregg.” Not even Camp could believe he got that call. He got the final out on a ground ball and the Jays won the game. Gregg fired, Camp hired. I don’t care what anyone says about Gregg still having his job. He does not. The closer is more than a title. He is the guy you go to close the game. Last night, that was Shawn camp. And he deserves it.
As the team was giving each other high fives, Cito says to Gregg: “I want to see you in my office.” They spent twenty minutes in there after the game. No one knows what was said but I think we can all guess. I’m just hoping that Cito does not play the nice guy for once. He is known for holding a grudge. And God help me, I want him to hold one here.
Because, Kevin Gregg, I’ve said it before: If you can’t pitch right, you can still act right.
