TUCSON — To understand catcher Yorvit Torrealba’s value, don’t watch him. Watch those who follow him.
Torrealba’s fingers are the road map that guided the Rockies to the best ERA in franchise history. They are the signs that help explain how a team won 21-of-22 games featuring two rookie starters known for their command issues.
Torrealba is not a catcher as much as he’s a traffic cop. He calls the pitches, controlling the game as if he were reading from Mike Shanahan’s 15-play script.
“He has great imagination and knows his pitcher like it’s his family,” pitching coach Bob Apodaca said. “I am his biggest backer. He’s never going to make a mistake in my eyes.”
Just last week, behind the closed doors of the clubhouse, a conversation occurred that illustrated Torrealba’s importance and presence.
He asked Franklin Morales what he thought was his strikeout pitch. Morales said it was his curveball. Torrealba disagreed, saying that it was his fastball. The curveball, he explained, comes in too slowly, allowing hitters to foul it off even when they are fooled.
Emphasizing his sinker, Morales allowed one run in four innings Sunday, creating slight separation in his bid for a rotation spot. Afterward, Morales struggled with his English until the topic turned to Torrealba.
“It’s so great to have a veteran catcher like him back there,” Morales said. “He helps so much.”
Torrealba spared the subtleties in his communication with Morales.
“I told him, ‘You can love me or you can hate me, but you aren’t shaking my signs off anymore. Throw what I put down,’ ” Torrealba said. “That’s my pride. My defense. My pitch (selection).”
Torrealba showed a knack for commanding pitchers even as a rookie in 2002 as a backup in San Francisco.
“I don’t care if he hits .000, he still is invaluable. To know you have him back there or (Chris) Iannetta is comforting,” said reliever Matt Herges, a longtime teammate dating to their days together with the Giants. “If it wasn’t for Torrey’s work with this pitching staff we don’t make the playoffs. No way.”
Just how seriously Torrealba takes his job can be seen in mid-February on the backfields. He lets Apodaca know which pitchers he wants to catch. He stores this inventory in his head. There’s no DVD or little black book.
His memory is uncanny. If he and a pitcher have a disagreement, they head to the video room.
“And I haven’t been in there once this spring,” Torrealba said with a smile.
A typical gameday for Torrealba is more mentally exhausting than physically. He arrives at the ballpark with an idea of how he wants his starter to attack the opponent. He discusses the game plan with Apodaca, then later sits down and goes through each hitter with that day’s pitcher. He asks what they think will work.
Then when the game begins, he earns the ultimate respect: their trust.
“As a pitcher you can’t doubt the pitch you are going to throw,” ace Jeff Francis said. “Yorvit likes to steer the wheel and I am fine with that.”
Torrealba called his, if not the season’s, biggest pitch May 23 in Arizona. The Rockies were 19-27, on the verge of going “Thelma and Louise” cliff diving. Colorado led 2-0 in the sixth inning when Eric Byrnes and Mark Reynolds rapped back-to-back two-out singles. The crowd awoke as Carlos Quentin stepped into the box. On a full count, Torrealba trusted his gut. Quentin had just fouled off a changeup and the catcher was convinced that the young player would be looking for a fastball.
Torrealba signaled for a changeup, even motioning his hands in a half-circle to tell Francis “to throw it right down the middle.” The pitch left Quentin paralyzed. The Rockies won that night to start a 19-for-27 run.
“He hasn’t just embraced our young pitchers or the Latin guys, he helps everybody. He has taken big-time ownership of his responsibilities,” manager Clint Hurdle said. “It’s the way he calls a game, blocks balls and gets to know hitters. And he’s very appropriate with his pats on the back and his slaps on the backside.”
Just do what the signs say.
“You have to have (guts) to be in this league. You can’t be afraid,” Torrealba said. “And if pitchers don’t believe in you, then you have no chance.”
Troy E. Renck: 303-954-1301 or trenck@denverpost.com
