This shouldn’t be taken as a slight of Greg Maddux, who by any career measuring stick was one of baseball’s greatest pitchers, or a perceived knock on Tom Glavine, who won more than 300 games and was MVP of the only World Series the Braves have won since moving to Atlanta.
But at his best, John Smoltz was the guy.
He was the pitcher you wanted for big games. The pitcher you wanted for the postseason. The pitcher you wanted for one game, one inning, one moment. He threw with power and aggression, and he just looked like he wanted to be there, like he was meant to be there.
“Never a nerve or anxiousness,” Smoltz said Tuesday. “I was reliving a childhood dream of stepping on the mound when it counted the most.”
Smoltz was elected to the Hall of Fame on Tuesday. He was named on 455 of 549 ballots because, well, the other 94 electors must have been watching a different game.
He was the Braves’ best starter when he had to be. He became one of the game’s best closers because the team needed somebody to replace John Rocker, and that’s the only reason Smoltz and Rocker ever should be referenced in the same sentence. Then he transitioned back to starter and was an All-Star two of the next three years, which was every bit as remarkable as his first transition.
He endured five surgeries, including Tommy John. He had pitched half of the 1999 season with a torn ligament, even lowering his arm in his delivery to minimize the pain.
“Nobody knew how hard that year was. I tried to fake it,” he said.
When the season ended, he tried to learn how to throw a knuckleball, before ultimately realizing he had to have the surgery as a last resort.
That was John Smoltz. He was the guy who wanted the ball, under any circumstances. Even if his ligaments and tendons weren’t completely functioning, his mind would take over. The man played Jedi mind tricks with himself.
Tom Glavine, who will be at the gates of Cooperstown, N.Y., in July to greet his former Braves’ teammate, said, “He was more competitive across the board than anybody.”
Where does Smoltz slide in this Braves’ Hall of Fame rotation with Maddux and Glavine?
“It depends on the time of the season,” Glavine said. “That was the beauty of it. One of us always had the hot hand.”
Smoltz had it when the Braves needed it most.
The fact he wasn’t a numbers-driven guy made him unique for a baseball player, but given his career, is perfectly logical. When he was drafted by Detroit in 1985 — finally, as the 574th pick and in the 22nd round, 20 rounds later than he expected — he didn’t set typical pitching goals related to wins or strikeouts.
He just wanted to pitch — for as long as possible.
“I thought about surviving,” he said. “Everything I was taught growing up was about never being complacent about what you are. I had this big roller-coaster start to my career. I went to the All-Star game in my first full year (1989), won 11 games (in the first half), then I won one game in the second half. I went through enough of those things that it forced me to push myself as hard as I could. But I always envisioned myself pitching into my 40s. I always envisioned myself finding a way, finding the next adjustment.”
He vividly remembers his days as a youth in Detroit, pitching to a brick wall 45 feet away.
In his mind, he went 99-1. Why?
“100-0 doesn’t sound believable.”
He spent most of his career as a starter, winning 213 games. He won a Cy Young in 1996 (24-8, 2.94), finished in the top seven in voting four other times and pitched in eight All-Star games. He would’ve won a lot more games if not for the three-plus seasons he spent as the team’s closer, which resulted in 154 saves, as well as the time lost from injuries.
But Smoltz and Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley are the only two pitchers in history to record 20-win and 50-save seasons, and Smoltz is the only pitcher with 200-plus wins and 150-plus saves. That’s a lot of history.
Most impressive of all was what happened in October.
For a franchise often associated with postseason fizzles, Smoltz was like the anti-Brave. He was 15-4 with a 2.67 ERA in 41 playoff starts. In 1991, the season Smoltz says best defines “what makes me tick,” he was 12-2 with a 2.63 ERA in the second half after a miserable first half (2-11, 5.16). He won the National League West Division clincher against Houston and the NLCS Game 7 winner over Pittsburgh.
Both were complete games, and the pennant winner was a shutout.
Food poisoning prevented him from starting the first three games of the World Series against Minnesota. But he won his Game 4 start 3-2 to even the series. Then he shut out the Twins for 7 2/3 innings in the Metrodome, only to have the Braves ultimately lose 1-0 in 10 innings to Jack Morris.
That October, we learned all we would need to know about John Smoltz.
How could he be so comfortable in those moments, when even other great pitchers of his generation failed?
“In my mind, in my own cathedral, I had already played it out (as a youth),” he said. “Ernie Harwell was doing the announcing, and I was doing the pitching.”
He didn’t take PEDs to aid in recovery or pop “greenies” to stay alert over the long baseball season. He wouldn’t even drink coffee. He found value in, “putting your head on the pillow, knowing you did the right thing.”
That was never in doubt. The Hall of Fame just got a little better.
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