Bye Bye Moose........you really grew on me

In the 2000 offseason the Yankees signed Mike Mussina, the ace of the Baltimore Orioles staff who, by age 32, was a model of pitching excellence and consistency. I was all on board for the move. Pitching wins championships and the Yanks had just rattled off three straight championship years on the shoulders of their starting pitching and strong bullpen. In those years, the rule of thumb was that, if the Yanks scored 5 runs, the game was over because their pitchers would never allow the other team to eclipse that margin.

But, I have to admit, the first two seasons Mussina was a Yankee I was not very impressed. The record was fine, and his penchant for being better in the second half than the first half showed he had the big-game chops to deal with NYC, but there was something about his particular nature that bugged the hell out of me.

If you gave Mussina a perfect June afternoon, with little wind, no clouds, and an umpire that was calling a good game, he could brilliant. On those days he was like a professor, mixing and matching his pitches to keep the other team off balance. But, if you threw a wrinkle in there, Mussina would always just seem completely out of sorts.

If the weather wasn't good, if the umpire had an erratic strikezone, or if, God forbid, Mussina were forced to deviate from his normal routine and pitch on, say, 3 days rest of 6 days rest, chances were you were in for a sub-par outing.

That annoyed the hell out of me, to be honest.

Then, 2003 came along and the Yankees entered the first of what would become back-to-back epic ALCS matchups with the Red Sox. In my opinion, it was one of the great all-time series, with everything from one-run nail-biting games to a brawl that reveals how much the two teams actually disliked one another.

In game seven the Yanks found themselves down by 4 runs in the fourth inning with men on first and third with one out. Pedro Martinez was on the mound for the Sox and a 4 run lead already seemed insurmountable. Any more and the Yanks would be dead, beaten by their long-time rival on their home field.

Mussina was brought in from the bullpen to get out of the jam. He had never done anything like this before. It was out of his comfort zone. It was outside of his normal routine and, as I watched him warm up, I was convinced that he would spit the bit. It played into my own little narrative perfectly.

Instead, Mussina saved the inning, the game, and the series. He immediately recorded a strikeout and a double play, keeping the game at a 4-run deficit, and followed that up with two-plus scoreless innings after that. He was the brick wall the Yanks needed, keeping the contest within range of a comeback and, as everyone remembers, comeback they did, culminated by the Aaron Boone homer off of Time Wakefield in the 11th inning - one of the most dramatic homers in history.

From that moment on my perspective changed on Mussina. He had shown me the guts of a champion. He had showed that, when his team called on him, even when it was WAY outside his comfort zone, he was able to not just perform, but perform at a high, high level.

Mussina would go on to be the Yanks most consistent pitcher during an unusual time for the Yanks. He would never win a championship, despite getting to the big dance twice, and he would watch as the Yanks went from championship caliber to second-tier team unable to make it out of the first round of the playoffs year after year. He would become a vocal leader of the team, willing to speak his mind and say the things most athletes avoid. His interviews were always interesting and informative, revealing more than the cliche-filled rhetoric routinely spewed by athletes looking to protect their image. While Mussina was about as honest a baseball player as there ever has been, I can't remember one overtly controversial thing he said that led to weeks of distractions for the team, showing that an intelligent baseball player can be upfront with the media without producing negative headlines.

Much of the talk about Mussina now focuses on his Hall of Fame credentials. If I had a vote, mine would be yes for two very simple reasons: one, he is as consistent a pitcher as ever walked the face of the earth, winning 270 games while only losing 153. Second, he did that while pitching his ENTIRE career in the AL East and pitching in the steroid era. If you are going to annoint Curt Schilling or John Smoltz, both of whom have won less games and pitched most of their career in the NL, then, in my opinion, you have to annoint Mussina as well. In my opinion, had Mussina pitched in the NL the vast majority of his career, not having to deal with the big lineups and small parks offered up in the AL East, he would probably have a few 20-win seasons and 300 wins by now, and we wouldn't need to have this discussion.

But the debate will rage and Mussina's fate will lie in the hands of writers who routinely show their absolute stupidity when it comes to such votes.

To mea, it doesn't matter whether he makes the Hall or not. Mussina will always be a great pitcher and one I will remember very fondly. His unique intelligence and personality were never more on display than this last week when, after winning 20 games, he stepped away. How many other players could do such a thing? History tells us only one has - Sandy Koufax - and he did so because his arm was so battered and bruised he could no longer take the pain.

Mussina looked at his career the way an objective fan might, realizing that his 20 win season and perfect health were probably exceptions to the rule going forward. Would he come back and be as successful next year as he was this year? Probably not. But think of how much it must take a person to admit that to themselves? Athletes are usually the LAST to know they are done. Mussina, in that sense, may have been the first.

I hope, for the game's sake, that Mussina eventually returns in some capacity. I, personally, would love to see him try his hand at broadcasting, where I think Mussina would be excellent, offering honest assesments with insight and humor. Is there any doubt that Mussina could break down a pitcher and a game better than anyone?

But chances are the quiet Mussina will retreat to his Pennsylvania home, take care of his kids, start some small company to occupy his time, and enjoy his new life. And, hopefully, one day he will deliver a speech on the steps of Cooperstown.
I wish him nothing but the best and, while it seemed as if I would never say such a thing early on, I will truly miss the man. He was a Yankee, no questions asked.