French-American historian Jacques Barzun got it right.
“Whoever wants to know the heart and mind of America had better learn baseball, the rules, and the reality of the game.’’
The Story wants to take that one step further.
Whoever wants to know the art and mind of pitching had better talk to Randy Jones, the 1976 NL Cy Young winner. Randy at the age of 71 still loves to talk the game – if you happen to run into him in San Diego or at one of his RJ Grills at Petco Park, featuring half pound hot dogs, hot links, kielbasa and bratwurst, this means you – Behind the Dish – because the knowledge of pitching flows from him like his curly hair flowed out from under his classic brown and gold Padres baseball cap on the July 12, 1976 cover of Sports Illustrated. “San Diego’s Confounding Randy Jones.’’
Simply put, Jones is a pitching genius. Some numbers first to back that up.
In 1976, the lefty won 22 games, two years after losing 22 games. He started 40 games that season, having pitched 25 complete games over 315 1/3 innings. Those led the league as did the 274 hits he allowed, only 15 them home runs. He surrendered only 109 runs. He struck out just 93 batters. And he worked fast.
“Think about those 93 punchouts,’’ Jones proudly told BallNine. “Half of those had to be the other pitcher. I only struck out like 40 real hitters. If I struck you out, it wasn’t my fault, it was yours, you just missed it.’’
Jones’ fastest fastball was 87 miles per hour. He would never throw it that hard.
“At 87 it would not sink, it would just tail,’’ he explained. “As soon as I’d drop it down to 81-82, then the ball would start sinking. I could throw 73 and the bottom would fall out of it and it would be in the same spot in the strike zone.
“I just changed speeds and my mechanics never changed. A lot of times I would throw a slider into a right-hander’s hands, and I would throw that harder than my fastball and they would look at me like: ‘How the hell are you getting in my kitchen?’ I’d throw the slider 83 and the fastball 78. It was fun setting up guys.
“I would wear out my spot out there on the outside corner, right below the kneecap. I wouldn’t throw a strike the whole game sometimes. I didn’t have to. They would call that pitch a strike and they would keep swinging at it and it was over. Here we go. I’d just live out there.’’
He could pitch. Then he offered this 2021 reality.
“I don’t even know if I would get drafted today. I don’t know about the analytics today. Either you can pitch or you can’t pitch.’’
2 comments:
Low powered pitchers should study Randy Jones tapes. And emulate.
Not his Mets years though.
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