Randy Johnson is selling his 2005 season and he is selling it hard. At times, he sounds more like the tallest member of the Elias Sports Bureau than perhaps the greatest lefty pitcher ever.
Actually, he sounds a little desperate. As if spewing his numbers will make you believe, in retrospect, that his 2005 Yankee debut was far better than the perception. Seventeen wins was the fourth most in the AL. Two hundred eleven strikeouts was second, and his 225 2/3 innings ranked fifth in the league.
He knows his stats as if he is about to draft himself in a fantasy league.
He knows his stats as if he is about to draft himself in a fantasy league. But it is the one time he mentions a statistic not yet on his baseball card that Randy Johnson galvanizes attention. Because this is when he promises a better campaign in 2006, saying, “17 wins is good, but I expect more this year.”
Nevertheless, he was not dominant, at least not to honor his recent past. He was good-to-very good, not great. And the Yanks thought they were purchasing great. There were too many flat sliders that went for too many homers, too few days when you thought he owned a game. Johnson, 42, said it was neither his age nor his clashes with the higher-visibility/stress forum of being a Yankee. His mechanics were horrid, and by the time he rectified them he had lost a half a season and gained a personal catcher (John Flaherty).
He certainly seemed comfortable yesterday, even amiable as he chatted in the Legends Field clubhouse. But the strongest impression still was of an all-time great trying to convince listeners that the greatness remains. That he might not strike out 300 at his age, but does anyone 10 years younger do it? That even Roger Clemens struggled in Year 1 as a Yankee and thrived thereafter. That “people say I’m getting old, but I’m still pitching at a level most people wish they could.”
God forbid a player look positively on his past years’ highlights when spring training is just around the corner. When you’re predisposed to disliking someone, guess what the angle is gonna be when you write about ’em? Randy’s not cute ‘n’ cuddly, and that’s how I like my fastball pitchers.
since I’m predisposed to disliking RJ, I take your point. However, I don’t think Sherman is totally out to lunch on this one. Steinbrenner didn’t bring him to the Bronx for a merely a-ok season, one with highlights including boorish public behavior, getting tossed from a crucial September game and coming up very small in a playoff game against the Angels. For a guy that seemed pretty fucking determined to end up in Pinstripes, Johnson, if print and video evidence is anything to go by, bristles at the scrutiny and expectations that go along with his workplace and salary.
True, he’s a bristler. He makes porcupines jealous. But I can’t see this particular criticism du jour as being anything more than spring training topic fluff. (Gotta find that angle! There ain’t shit-all else to write about.)
Everyone, including Big Ugly, expected far better things in 05, and very true he collapsed big-time in the playoffs. However, I just don’t see the brimming flop sweat on Randy’s forehead from reading these comments. It reads more like much Post ado about next-to-nothing. If he’s underperforming come September, then I’ll buy an hour of Joel’s palm reading services.
Yes, the entire league wishes they could pitch like a 42 year OLD man with one good knee. Go get’em Randy! RJ wishes he could pitch like Eric Milton at this point.