Curt’s Case for Cooperstown
On Thursday, Curt Schilling confirmed what I figured would be the inevitable outcome of the team prescribed rehab program. When renowned shoulder expert Dr. James Andrews describes your bicep as “three strands of spaghetti” – especially if you’re on the wrong side of 40 – you probably aren’t going to be too optimistic about playing any sport at a professional level, even if you’re Curt Schilling. Should the Red Sox be fortunate enough to find themselves playing October baseball, the closest Curt will be getting to the mound is at his seat on the dugout bench. The 41-year-old underwent season ending surgery June 23rd on the right shoulder that played such a pivotal role in bringing Boston two World Series trophies. The surgery will keep Curt from throwing until next winter at the least; he could very well be looking at adding his name to the retirement list.
Schilling himself acknowledged on EEI’s Dennis and Callahan show that there is a “pretty good chance” he has thrown the last pitch of his career.
To me, anything he contributed this year would have been gravy. When he got here in ’04 he was a power pitcher with pin point control and a devastating splitter, by the end of ’07 his only elite skill was control. The velocity was gone, the pitches weren’t as sharp, but Curt’s game was never predicated solely on velocity. His control and ability to execute a game plan seamlessly aided a relatively smooth transformation from fire-baller to finesse pitcher – save one trip to the DL. Even though his style changed, when it mattered most, in October, the results were there. The guy’s a warrior, and last year – probably the most challenging year of his career on the field - was no different. He was a different pitcher, sure, but that didn’t change the results. Whether he was throwing 96 or 86, the post season was his where he always made his presence known. Going 3-0 in October, including seven strong innings in Game 6 of the ALCS in which he rendered only two earned runs to a powerful Indians lineup, he solidified his status as one of the best big game pitchers of all-time. The stage was set perfectly for a curtain call, and he delivered going five and a third gutsy innings giving up only one earned run in Game 2 of the World Series, all the while his right arm hanging on by a thread. Holding the cap up high, choking back tears – that’s the goodbye I want to remember. Selfish, maybe, but watching one of my baseball heroes struggle to be league average would have hurt.
With further arm issues, the chances of him rebounding even to his 2007 form are slim. With surgery on the horizon, it’s looking more like Schilling’s shoulder is forcing the issue and closing the book on his career, and it made me realize how fortunate I was to be a fan of this team at this time. We are all fortunate to have caught some of the greatest moments of one of the greatest big game pitchers of all time. This has been a great decade to be a Boston sports fan, thanks in large part to the Red Sox, and there is no player who is more responsible for their recent success than Curt Schilling. Go ahead, call me on it. It’s true.
It seems everyone in Boston with a keyboard is talking about whether or not Curt will end up in Cooperstown now that his career is probably over. The prevailing thought amongst people I’ve heard from is that he is a lock, and while I idolize him for what he has done here, I don’t feel the same way – or didn’t. During the first quarter of the Celtics comeback game (you know, before the comeback part), a couple friends and I were trying not to think about the game at hand when someone asked me what hat Schilling would be wearing on his Cooperstown plaque. So I started explaining (read: ranting) all the reasons I have for thinking he won’t make it. If Luis Tiant isn’t in the Hall, how can Schilling go? He’s only won 20 games three times, he has never won a Cy Young award, and he has always played second fiddle to great pitchers. And pretty much as soon as I blurted that out, I started re-thinking it all.
Luis Tiant and Curt Schilling are in no way related. I think I liked that line because it made me seem like a baseball history-buff when in reality, my baseball knowledge doesn’t stretch far beyond 1995. And what is a 20 game winner other than some combination of good and lucky? It takes a dominant pitcher to win 20 games, but it also takes a good bullpen and some run support, and those things have nothing to do with the pitchers individual performance. If the Hall of Fame is the ultimate acknowledgment of the success of an individual’s career, why are wins such a crucial stat in determining what is and what isn’t a Hall of Fame career? To get a win requires a degree of luck. If a pitcher leaves in a close game, he needs the bullpen to hold out. If he leaves in a blow-out after giving up six runs and still gets the W, he might manage to draw boo’s from the crowd and boost his resume all at once. Granted, it takes a special pitcher to amass the large career win totals we’ve seen from guys like Maddux and Glavine and Randy Johnson (who will get 300 before it’s all said and done) but I don’t think just because every 300 game winner is a worthy Hall of Famer (and they are), that every worthy honoree must be one as well. Career victories aren’t the same as career dominance, ask Jack Morris (254, .390, 2478), Dennis Martinez (245, 3.70, 2149), David Wells (239, 4.13, 2201) and Jamie Moyer (237, 4.21, 2181 and counting). They’re just four guys higher on the career wins list that have also have higher career ERA’s and less strike outs than Schilling (216, 3.46, 3116).
This seems like a good time to mention that Schilling – known for his post-season brilliance – took home the ’93 NLCS MVP with the Phillies after making two starts and logging exactly zero victories in the series. Curt Schilling reminds me of someone else entirely: his career has a little Don Drysdale in it. Like Drysdale, he belongs in Cooperstown if you evaluate his performance from outside of the shadow cast by his big name staff-mates. Drysdale dominated by today’s standards, but is remembered for whom he pitched alongside – Sandy Koufax. Drysdale’s plaque is in Cooperstown along with Koufax’s, but he pitched in an era where the league ERA hovered right around three (In three different seasons during Drysdales’ career, the league ERA was almost exactly at or just under three).
As the late 90’s approached, the game began to transform into a hitting-dominated sport. Schilling pitched in the Majors when the league ERA for his career ballooned out to almost four and a half. In 2004, the league ERA in the AL was almost five, and Schilling stepped up and finished second in the Cy Young voting to Johan Santana, who had a historic second half to rob Schilling of what would have been his first career Cy. Not that that was new to him, Randy Johnson stole a couple from him with machine-like history book-type seasons when they were on the same staff. Drysdale and Schilling have the same hurdle to overcome by having to earn their recognition while being over-shadowed by all-time greats not just in the same league, but on the same staff.
Despite my initial doubt, I think Schilling, like Don Drysdale, has the resume to do it. Plenty of deserving candidates get over looked by the Hall of Fame voters. We’ve been rooting for Jim Rice and Luis Tiant for years in Boston, but when the fans of the Phillies, Diamondbacks and Red Sox root for Schilling, it’s different. We think about some of the most indelible post-season performances we’ve seen from any player passing through each of our cities. There is something about every Hall of Famer that separates him from the pack, usually regular-season accolades like MVP and Cy Young awards that highlight their dominance in a particular season. Schilling’s career had a little Drysdale in it, but Schilling won’t be remembered like Drysdale, as a number two starter. Schilling separated himself from the pack in each of his October starts, and in every series he took the ball first. Every spring, Schilling was penciled into the two spot, but when fortunate enough to play October baseball, it was an easy decision for his manager who to give the ball to for the first game. Curt took the Game 1 start over Randy Johnson in Arizona in 2001 and Pedro Martinez here in 2004. Two of the best pitchers of all-time, first ballot Hall of Famers, who expect the ball opening day and get it year after year, but not in October, not on Schilling’s team.
He’ll go into Cooperstown for what he did for his teams in the playoffs. Had he received the awards and amassed the wins, we wouldn’t even be talking about this. There would still be the bloody sock and four straight complete game victories from 1993-2001. The guy Schilling is fighting for the distinction of best big-game pitcher of all time is Whitey Ford, game one World Series starter in ‘55 ‘56 ‘57 ‘58 ‘61 ‘62 ‘63 and ‘64. The only difference between the two is while Schilling made 55,000 New Yorkers shut up, Whitey Ford sent them into elation. Here’s to hoping the silence in New York and Atlanta and Cleveland and the rest in the long list of cities Curt quieted with his determined right arm speaks loudly to the voters. He deserves it.
