You can’t visit my blog very often without realizing that I am a Boston Red Sox fan. A rabid Red Sox fan who grew up watching the “close but no cigar” in 1975, the horrible collapse of ’78 culminating in Bucky Bleepin’ Dent’s home run that broke the hearts of millions of us in New England. I watched all those heartbreaks and more. And I wept with rare joy when they defeated Leviathan, I mean the Yankees, in the improbable comeback in ’04 and then the Cards to win the World Series.
But I am also a baseball fan. When I lived in central Florida I watched the Rays. I would cheer for them unless they played the Red Sox. But having gone to games in the Trop, I find many Rays fans to be …. really obnoxious. And this before Joe Madden’s “smartest guy in baseball” act that has really worn thin. He is a very good manager but so stinkin’ condescending. Living in AZ now, I cheer for the D’Backs except for the rare occasions they play the Red Sox. I like the D’Backs (and Goldy) a whole lot more than the Rays.
I will confess that I actually cheered for the Yankees to win the first year of their run with Jeter & company. It was about friendship, plain and simple. I’ve read books on Yankees stars: Ruth, Gehrig, Mantle. So, I’m not a complete homer.
There is no denying Mariano Rivera’s place in baseball. He was the best closer in baseball for nearly 20 years. He was a one pitch wonder who still got guys out. He was nearly automatic in his prime. Additionally, for me, Mariano is a professing Christian who is using some of what baseball has afforded him to talk about Jesus. My curiosity arose and I wanted to read his autobiography, The Closer (written with Wayne Coffey).
Part of what is interesting is that they left some of Mariano’s imperfect English in the book. As he notes, in the book he didn’t know word one of English when he boarded the flight to Miami as a young man. He credits Tim Cooper for teaching him English on those long rides on the bus in the minors. The book, therefore, feels authentic with talk about eating iguanas and other things. There is a sense of humor to the book because Mariano doesn’t take himself to seriously. His humility shows throughout the book. There was one place where I was a bit surprised, when he mentioned Whitey Bulger. He may keep up on current affairs, but I thought only people in Boston really cared or thought about Bulger.
This book is mostly about baseball. He does devote a few chapters to life before baseball. He is the son of a Panamanian fisherman who was out to sea 6 days a week. It was not an easy life for his family and Mariano seemed destined for a similar life. After dropping out of school he was working on his father’s boat to save money to go to mechanic’s school. He wasn’t a 16 year-old free agent signing who lived in a baseball camp. At this stage in his life he barely played baseball because he was only on dry land one day a week.
Then the improbable happened. A bad pump with a full load of fish meant the boat sank. He now had some time to play baseball. He was an outfielder. One day the starter struggled and the manager inextricably pointed to Riveria in the outfield. He hadn’t pitched in years. He was confused but jogged in and threw strikes allowing his team to get back into the game and win. Destiny isn’t really the issue. Providence is: God working out His purposes and plans in creation. All of these improbable things need to happen for Mariano to go from guy on a fishing boat to signing a contract with the Yankees. Two teammates, wanting the $200 if he was signed, recommend him to a scout who’d previously seen Riveria as an outfielder to no avail. His control, since he still didn’t throw in the 90’s, encouraged the Yankees to take a chance on the skinny fisherman’s kid.
Riveria sees God’s hand at work in his life. This is one theme that runs through the book. There are also plenty of lessons about baseball and the choices that change a life forever. He provides the cautionary tale of Brien Taylor who was a #1 draft pick on his first minor league team. He admired Taylor’s smooth delivery and amazing results. He looked like he was going to deliver. But one night in the off season he came to his brother’s aid in a fight. His injured shoulder needed surgery and he was never the same. The player with tons of talent and expectations was out of baseball and eventually in prison but the guy no one expected to matter would become the greatest closer in history.
At times he shares this thoughts on guys like Jeter, Cano and Alex. You can see his fondness for Jeter (which is well deserved on the field) and frustration with Cano and Rodriguez. Both of them have amazing amounts of talent. But, in Rivera’s opinion, Cano isn’t driven like Jeter to harness it all. He makes the controversial statement that if he had one game to win he’d want Dustin Pedroia as his second baseman. Pedrioa, like Jeter, is driven and engaged on every play. Alex, well, as he says a few times Alex just makes life harder on himself with decisions that don’t make sense.
When he talks about his faith, a few pages at a time, I’m not sure how the ordinary fan will feel. It doesn’t put me off, and it seems to fit what he’s talking about, but I’m in the same boat as him. He doesn’t get bogged down in the distinctive beliefs of his particular church, but sticks to the common beliefs of Christians. That shifts in the epilogue a bit as he talks about the church that he and his wife, Clara who was his high school sweetheart, founded. But I don’t turn to athletes for theology or exegesis, and neither should you.
So you see a portrait of a man who is humble and loves His God. You see a man who enjoyed a life he never envisioned who did not get greedy but shares from the abundance with others. It is not a book to discover dirt but to learn something about his life and circumstances as well as his perspective. He has some life lessons drawn out from those things. It was a good read, particularly when you think of all the different players mentioned. One fact he related is interesting in light of the rash of Tommy John surgeries was that in the 5th game of a series against Seattle, David Cone threw 147 pitches. Not close to Tiant’s 225 in the ’75 World Series, but still amazing in light of the strict pitch counts which would soon enter baseball.
[I received a complimentary copy of this book for the purposes of review.]
Cavman Considers 