|
NAME |
ROOKIE YEAR |
ROOKIE YEAR |
YEAR 2 INNINGS |
LONG-TERM OUTLOOK |
|
STEVE SPARKS, Mil |
1995 |
202 |
88 |
Out all of '97 before bouncing among seven teams from '98 through this
year |
|
MATT MORRIS, StL |
1997 |
217 |
113 |
Missed all of '99 and most of 2000, but averaged nearly 16 wins from '01 to
'05 |
|
CHRIS HOLT, Hou |
1997 |
209 2/3 |
0 |
After missing all of '98 was 20--38 before retiring at end of 2001
season |
|
JASON DICKSON, Ana |
1997 |
203 2/3 |
122 |
Was 13--9 with 4.29 ERA as a rookie; 12--12 with a 6.07 ERA thereafter |
|
ROLANDO ARROJO, TB |
1998 |
202 |
140 2/3 |
All-Star as rookie (14--12, 3.56 ERA); used mostly out of bullpen by
2001 |
|
FREDDY GARCIA, Sea |
1999 |
201 1/3 |
124 1/3 |
Most durable of the bunch--on track for sixth straight season of 200+
innings |
|
GUSTAVO CHACIN, Tor |
2005 |
203 |
51 1/3* |
May return this week after landing on DL in June with elbow injury |
|
JOE BLANTON, Oak (right) |
2005 |
201 1/3 |
155* |
Has stayed healthy in sophomore season, though key numbers have
suffered |
|
*stats through Sunday |
Like fraternity
brothers exchanging the house handshake, the past and present Motown pitching
phenoms extended their famous right arms toward each other in the spartan
visiting manager's office at Fenway Park on Aug. 14. "So, you must be the
rookie," said the older of the two, still possessed of that famously goofy
grin and curly hair. This day happened to be the older man's birthday, but even
at 52, Mark Fidrych exuded youthfulness, even if the golden locks that once
spilled out from under a Tigers cap had turned to gray. � On the other end of
the handshake, the second coming of Fidrych smiled. "Glad to meet you,"
23-year-old Justin Verlander replied. As Fidrych did in that magical summer 30
years ago, Verlander has captivated baseball fans with a performance that,
while lacking the Bird's showmanship, could win him the American League Rookie
of the Year award (his 15 wins through Monday was tied for second best in the
league) and the ERA title (his 3.05 was second).
Brothers in arms,
the two righthanders talked pitching, of course. "How come when you guys
throw a hundred pitches, it's only the sixth inning," Fidrych queried,
"and when I threw a hundred it was the ninth?" The conversation--as all
intramural chats between coal miners, circus acrobats, retirees and pitchers
tend to--quickly came around to the preservation of health.
Fidrych, visiting
from his home in Northborough, Mass., where he drives a commercial truck, gave
Verlander a pointer. He told the rookie that when he was pitching, he used to
land on a bent front leg as he released the baseball. Verlander, the Bird
noted, sometimes lands on a stiff leg. "That will put more stress on your
arm over time," Fidrych said.
In that moment
everything that's both wonderful and worrisome about great young pitchers was
never more evident. Fidrych's '76 season earned him a place on the Mount
Rushmore of rookie prodigies, alongside Herb Score, Fernando Valenzuela and
Dwight Gooden. None of those pitchers, however, will make the Hall of Fame,
testifying to the tenuous nature of pitching at a young age.
Fidrych threw 250
1/3 innings as a rookie but only 162 more over the rest of his major league
career, which lasted only five years. His arm gave out from the workload of
throwing 24 complete games that season for an otherwise irrelevant Detroit team
that finished 24 games out of first place. He threw six straight complete games
in August, two of them extra-inning games while on three days of rest.
Verlander, whose
considerable gifts include a fastball that has been clocked as high as 101 mph,
and at 99 in the ninth inning, had thrown 153 1/3 innings at week's end,
putting him on pace for 200 innings. That should scare the tar out of Tigers
manager Jim Leyland and his omnipresent Marlboros. While hardly Birdlike, 200
innings is a frightful leap from the 130 innings Verlander threw last season as
a first-year pro. The industry standard now is to limit young pitchers to
annual increases of about 30 innings.
But Leyland's not
too worried about his prodigy. With "agents, pitch counts, big contracts
and MRIs," he notes, young pitchers are treated like Faberg� eggs. This
season has revealed a whole crate of them who, like Verlander, could very well
decide the pennant races--and beyond. Most of the young hurlers being relied on
in September have never pitched a six-month season before (minor leagues
typically wrap up around Labor Day) or have already exceeded their pro high in
innings pitched. For instance, the Los Angeles Angels, who nursed 23-year-old
Ervin Santana into October last year, are counting on righthander Jered Weaver,
23, who has already doubled the 76 innings he threw last year, and lefthander
Joe Saunders, 25, who needed to gulp cough syrup at 6 a.m. to finally fall
asleep before his first start at Yankee Stadium on Aug. 11. Saunders won that
night, as he and Weaver almost always have this season. The two rookies were a
combined 13--1 at week's end, and Weaver's 9--0 start equaled the AL record set
by Whitey Ford for most wins to begin a career.
The National
League race will be influenced by rookie starters in Los Angeles (Chad
Billingsley); San Francisco ( Matt Cain); Arizona (Enrique Gonzalez); Houston
( Jason Hirsh); New York ( John Maine); Philadelphia ( Cole Hamels); and Florida
( Josh Johnson, Scott Olsen, Ricky Nolasco and Anibal Sanchez).
In the AL, in
addition to Los Angeles, Boston ( Jon Lester); Minnesota ( Matt Garza, Boof
Bonser and Francisco Liriano, who is expected back soon from a strained
ligament in his left elbow); Texas ( Edinson Volquez); and Detroit (Verlander
and Zach Miner) will be turning to young starters playing in September for the
first time. August has already been cruel for several of these youngsters,
including Gonzalez (5.64 ERA this month, compared with 4.96 before); Johnson
(5.06 since Aug. 1, 2.50 before); Olsen (8.53 and 3.79); Lester (8.24 and
3.49); and Verlander (5.09 and 2.69). "I'm in uncharted waters, and I know
it," Verlander says. "I don't know what it will be like until I go
through it. But I feel like I'm doing everything I can to stay strong."
Few assignments
in baseball are more difficult than getting a rookie pitcher, especially in the
offense-heavy AL, to grind through 200 innings and live to tell about it with
his shoulder and elbow intact. Ask that rookie to do so into a seventh
month--the postseason--and the degree of difficulty rises much higher. Consider
that in the 11 seasons since the wild-card format was born in 1995: