SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — The San Francisco Giants, having faced 6-foot-10 Randy Johnson more than any sadist would suggest, figured after signing him this off-season that the coast was clear. No more sidearm fastballs at their ribs. No more leg-trembling at-bats against the most intimidating left-hander of their lives.
Or so they thought. In Johnson’s first throwing session against Giants hitters on Saturday, his new teammates took a few too many pitches for his taste. Unabashedly incensed, Johnson grumbled afterward, “Swing the stinking bat!”
“Something tells me the next guy who takes a pitch against Randy’ll get a fastball right in the cranium,” one Giants player said, requesting anonymity because he preferred not to be that guy.
Johnson may be 45, he may have lost a bit off his fastball and his back may have more scar tissue than Joan Rivers. But he remains a pitching force, and a fine fit for the lurching Giants.
His contemporaries Roger Clemens, Greg Maddux and Mike Mussina have all retired, and Tom Glavine’s elbow may not hold up for the Braves. But Johnson still stands tall, five victories short of 300.
Somewhat under baseball’s radar, after two operations in 10 months ruined his 2007 season and carried over into 2008, Johnson dominated the National League for the Arizona Diamondbacks in the second half of last year. He struck out fewer batters than usual and allowed a few more hits, but he posted a 2.41 earned run average that ranked fifth in the major leagues.
“I’m only as good as my back feels,” Johnson said, noting that his herniated disk has not been particularly troublesome for about a year. “My arm feels fine. As good as my arm feels, I don’t think I’ll be the pitcher my arm would allow me to be, because my back won’t tolerate the amount of force that it needs to provide to do the things that I did in the past.”
Beyond his 295 wins, that past includes two no-hitters, five Cy Young Awards and 4,789 strikeouts, second to Nolan Ryan.
Johnson pitched 194 innings last year, 10 of them in two minor league rehab games in April, over 32 starts. But his days of consecutive complete games or starts on three days’ rest are probably over, and he readily admits that his fastball has lost some zip.
Johnson’s fastballs averaged 93.6 miles an hour in 2003, when he was 40, but have steadily slowed to 90.4 last year, according to the Inside Edge scouting service. In part because of this, he throws fewer of them on the inside part of the plate, preferring to nibble on the outside corner more than in his flamethrowing past. But Johnson’s reputation has diminished less than his pep.
“Randy is known not necessarily as a headhunter, but he’s definitely someone where you take too big of a hack or lean in too far he’ll let you know,” said the Giants right-hander Matt Cain, who at 24 is close to half Johnson’s age. “I want to talk to him about how to take advantage of the inside corner, and not to let hitters dig in.”
Johnson, who agreed to a one-year, $8 million contract with $5 million more in incentives, was signed in part to mentor the Giants’ three young starters: Cain, Tim Lincecum (who won the 2008 National League Cy Young Award) and the rehabilitating Noah Lowry. His presence will also help San Francisco’s other primary starting pitcher, the troubled Barry Zito.
Zito and Johnson could not be more different in repertory or temperament. But Zito, who emerged in Oakland on a young staff and flopped after moving to San Francisco as a headlining free agent, said he expected to relax more with an older star in the rotation for a change.
“I feel younger,” Zito said of Johnson’s presence in the clubhouse. “I feel like I have a more fresh perspective coming into this season. I can just be a kid again, like I was when I came up.”
Johnson is reminded every day that he is no kid, not with lower-back issues he said he first experienced late in his second and final year with the Yankees, in 2006. He took two epidurals to numb the pain before his Game 3 start against the Detroit Tigers in the first round of the playoffs that year, but pitched poorly and lost. Surgery and a trade back to Arizona, where he had won a World Series and four of his Cy Young Awards, soon followed.
At 45, Johnson has a 25-year-old arm and a 65-year-old back. He undergoes about 30 minutes of back stretching exercises to throw reasonably safely; one awkward move could reinjure the disk and end his career.
“Being a tall guy and the incline of the mound, that puts a lot of stress on his back,” Dave Groeschner, the Giants’ trainer, said. “Throw a weakness in there and he has to be extra-aware of stretching and keeping his legs and arm in proper position.”
Johnson will do that in his first exhibition start on Friday, and continue the routine for as long as he pitches, which could be longer than most assume. One full year of pitching comfortably the way he did last summer would leave him fit to go again next year; only one pitcher in the post-1961 expansion era has made more than 30 starts at age 46, and that was the knuckleballer Phil Niekro.
Johnson’s pitches still zip half again as fast as Niekro’s did, though. And he has no intention of slowing down.
“I got through last year and proved that when I’m healthy and I give my back ample time to recover, I can pitch 180 or 190 innings,” Johnson said.
Asked if he could pitch until he was 50, he did not rule it out. Like opposing hitters — and even his own — Johnson will keep moving Father Time off the plate.
Or so they thought. In Johnson’s first throwing session against Giants hitters on Saturday, his new teammates took a few too many pitches for his taste. Unabashedly incensed, Johnson grumbled afterward, “Swing the stinking bat!”
“Something tells me the next guy who takes a pitch against Randy’ll get a fastball right in the cranium,” one Giants player said, requesting anonymity because he preferred not to be that guy.
Johnson may be 45, he may have lost a bit off his fastball and his back may have more scar tissue than Joan Rivers. But he remains a pitching force, and a fine fit for the lurching Giants.
His contemporaries Roger Clemens, Greg Maddux and Mike Mussina have all retired, and Tom Glavine’s elbow may not hold up for the Braves. But Johnson still stands tall, five victories short of 300.
Somewhat under baseball’s radar, after two operations in 10 months ruined his 2007 season and carried over into 2008, Johnson dominated the National League for the Arizona Diamondbacks in the second half of last year. He struck out fewer batters than usual and allowed a few more hits, but he posted a 2.41 earned run average that ranked fifth in the major leagues.
“I’m only as good as my back feels,” Johnson said, noting that his herniated disk has not been particularly troublesome for about a year. “My arm feels fine. As good as my arm feels, I don’t think I’ll be the pitcher my arm would allow me to be, because my back won’t tolerate the amount of force that it needs to provide to do the things that I did in the past.”
Beyond his 295 wins, that past includes two no-hitters, five Cy Young Awards and 4,789 strikeouts, second to Nolan Ryan.
Johnson pitched 194 innings last year, 10 of them in two minor league rehab games in April, over 32 starts. But his days of consecutive complete games or starts on three days’ rest are probably over, and he readily admits that his fastball has lost some zip.
Johnson’s fastballs averaged 93.6 miles an hour in 2003, when he was 40, but have steadily slowed to 90.4 last year, according to the Inside Edge scouting service. In part because of this, he throws fewer of them on the inside part of the plate, preferring to nibble on the outside corner more than in his flamethrowing past. But Johnson’s reputation has diminished less than his pep.
“Randy is known not necessarily as a headhunter, but he’s definitely someone where you take too big of a hack or lean in too far he’ll let you know,” said the Giants right-hander Matt Cain, who at 24 is close to half Johnson’s age. “I want to talk to him about how to take advantage of the inside corner, and not to let hitters dig in.”
Johnson, who agreed to a one-year, $8 million contract with $5 million more in incentives, was signed in part to mentor the Giants’ three young starters: Cain, Tim Lincecum (who won the 2008 National League Cy Young Award) and the rehabilitating Noah Lowry. His presence will also help San Francisco’s other primary starting pitcher, the troubled Barry Zito.
Zito and Johnson could not be more different in repertory or temperament. But Zito, who emerged in Oakland on a young staff and flopped after moving to San Francisco as a headlining free agent, said he expected to relax more with an older star in the rotation for a change.
“I feel younger,” Zito said of Johnson’s presence in the clubhouse. “I feel like I have a more fresh perspective coming into this season. I can just be a kid again, like I was when I came up.”
Johnson is reminded every day that he is no kid, not with lower-back issues he said he first experienced late in his second and final year with the Yankees, in 2006. He took two epidurals to numb the pain before his Game 3 start against the Detroit Tigers in the first round of the playoffs that year, but pitched poorly and lost. Surgery and a trade back to Arizona, where he had won a World Series and four of his Cy Young Awards, soon followed.
At 45, Johnson has a 25-year-old arm and a 65-year-old back. He undergoes about 30 minutes of back stretching exercises to throw reasonably safely; one awkward move could reinjure the disk and end his career.
“Being a tall guy and the incline of the mound, that puts a lot of stress on his back,” Dave Groeschner, the Giants’ trainer, said. “Throw a weakness in there and he has to be extra-aware of stretching and keeping his legs and arm in proper position.”
Johnson will do that in his first exhibition start on Friday, and continue the routine for as long as he pitches, which could be longer than most assume. One full year of pitching comfortably the way he did last summer would leave him fit to go again next year; only one pitcher in the post-1961 expansion era has made more than 30 starts at age 46, and that was the knuckleballer Phil Niekro.
Johnson’s pitches still zip half again as fast as Niekro’s did, though. And he has no intention of slowing down.
“I got through last year and proved that when I’m healthy and I give my back ample time to recover, I can pitch 180 or 190 innings,” Johnson said.
Asked if he could pitch until he was 50, he did not rule it out. Like opposing hitters — and even his own — Johnson will keep moving Father Time off the plate.
written by: ALAN SCHWARZ
