ANAHEIM, Calif. — Move over, John Elway. Inch back, Aspen. Step aside, Coors. Colorado is now officially known for something else: closers.
In the span of two months, Rich “Goose” Gossage was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame and Brad Lidge completed a perfect season with the Phillies, converting all 41 of his save attempts.
Gossage grew up a string bean in Colorado Springs, all arms and knees, who figured he would be a Little League coach before the White Sox had the good sense to draft him. Lidge was raised in Denver, and figured he would be an outfielder, before finding a home on the mound during his senior year at Cherry Creek High School.
They are linked by a state they call home and by a jersey number.
“I wear No. 54 because of Goose,” Lidge said. “I have enjoyed the chance to talk to him.”
As the postseason starts today, Lidge would like nothing more than to mimic him, leading the Phillies to a World Series crown. There’s no way to underestimate the value of a pitcher who can dim the lights and lock the doors. No one has been better this season than Lidge, acquired over the winter from Houston. His fastball command has returned to his 2005 form, setting up a slider that is just plain unfair.
“It’s sick,” Rockies shortstop Troy Tulowitzki said.
Nausea is an appropriate description for the ninth inning. It’s where gags turn to riches and good teams become great ones. Teams that can’t finish, can’t start an argument about winning a championship. Or even get under the velvet rope for the debate (See Mets, New York).
Lidge is a big reason the Phillies are becoming a sexy pick to win the National League pennant. But it says a lot about the bullpens that he might not be the best finisher in the postseason.
“My confidence is high. I am ready for this second stage,” Angels star Francisco Rodriguez said.
Can you blame him? He set a major-league record with 62 saves. All counterpart Jonathan Papelbon did was bull the Red Sox to the World Series crown last year.
“When you have a guy like him as a manager, there is always an end in sight,” Red Sox manager Terry Francona said. “It’s hard to have a successful team without that guy at the end that anchors it.”
From the outside looking in, the role shouldn’t matter this much. It is, after all, just three outs. But try convincing that to anyone who has gone out to the mound with no one warming up, the crowd on its feet and eager hitters frothing like Old Yeller.
“It’s like a drug,” San Francisco closer Brian Wilson said. “There’s nothing like that feeling being the guy out there shaking hands at the end.”
Conversely, there’s no worse punch to the gut than a closer blowing a lead.
“As a hitter when the game unfolds and you have a two- or three-run lead, you’re thinking, ‘Let’s get it to Frankie, let’s keep pushing,’ ” Angels first baseman Mark Teixeira said. “If you don’t have a closer out there who can win games, you feel like you never have enough and you press. You swing at bad pitches and tighten up in the field to try to make every play.”
The Brewers aren’t highly regarded this postseason because of their issues late in games. Eric Gagne was a bust, and Salomon Torres appears miscast. Dan Wheeler will have to shed a similar reputation as a lifetime setup man if he’s to help Tampa Bay continue writing its Disney script.
Even the Cubs’ Kerry Wood and the White Sox’s Bobby Jenks, for all their dominance, can inspire Pepto Bismol moments.
“You are never comfortable when you are hoping to close games out,” said Rockies manager Clint Hurdle, who has been on both sides with the roller-coaster ride of Shawn Chacon and the smooth waters of Brian Fuentes. “When you have a guy that can do it, the biggest thing is the other team knows it. Just watch the other team prepare for the closer. If he’s struggling, there are eight guys out there on deck. When he’s on a roll, there’s one guy out there all by himself.”
Lidge feeds on that moment, but this postseason will test him beyond his stuff. It will test his will. The most enduring playoff image associated with Lidge is his neck snapping back in 2005, watching Albert Pujols and Scott Podsednik hit home runs to win games.
That Lidge hasn’t shown up in Philadelphia. He has demonstrated enough mental strength to bend more spoons than Criss Angel. But it’s the nature of his role to diminish his last accomplishment.
Closers, whether from Colorado or parts unknown, are defined by their next happy ending.
Troy E. Renck: 303-954-1301 or trenck@denverpost.com
Closing time
Last call in baseball can be a wonderful sip or a nauseating trip. National baseball writer Troy E. Renck looks at the eight playoff closers:
National League
Brad Lidge, Phillies: Hitters would rather eat tinfoil than hit his slider.
Solomon Torres, Brewers: Forced into the role after Eric Gagne melted down.
Takashi Saito, Dodgers: If elbow barks, Jonathan Broxton will take over immediately.
Kerry Wood, Cubs: Curveball turns knees to Jell-O.
American League
Francisco Rodriguez, Angels: Lesser velocity, better command, wicked slider.
Jonathan Papelbon, Red Sox: Pitches with chest puffed out and throws old-school heater.
Dan Wheeler, Rays: Pitches to contact, but has held hitters to a .185 average.
Bobby Jenks, White Sox: Owns a World Series ring. Relies heavily on high heat.
