Mariano Rivera and his fastball are a cut above

Sporting News, The, Nov 1, 1999 by Bob Hille

As good as Orlando Hernandez is--and clearly this World Series proves he's very good--El Duque isn't even the best postseason pitcher on his team.

Hernandez, whose career postseason ERA is 1.02, trails teammate/terminator Mariano Rivera, who in the span of four short seasons has gone from a one-pitch caddie to John Wetteland to confident closer.

Simply put, Rivera is baseball's most dominant and dependable reliever, a whippet-thin (6-2, 170 pounds) righthander with a creamy-smooth delivery, a nasty cut fastball that's hell on hitters' hands and Louisville Sluggers alike and the imperturbable temperament of an air-traffic controller in the JFK/LaGuardia/Newark International triangle.

Rivera's career postseason ERA (0.41) is tops among pitchers with 30 or more innings pitched and has helped put him--one month from his 30th birthday--on the brink of, no joke, World Series immortality.

"What's in the water down there in Panama? You guys are so cool," Game 2 winner David Cone asked Rivera recently, alluding to Rivera's and fellow Panamanian and Yankees reliever Ramiro Mendoza's ability to perform under pressure, a question to which Rivera responds it's simply "a gift from God."

What, then, might rattle Rivera? "Giving up a run," he says with a straight face. "I still remember what it feels like." Of course, it has been awhile. Not only has Rivera not given up a run since July 21, he had given up only two earned runs in his 44 postseason innings as the Series shifted back to New York.

So the man teammates call "Mo" found himself going into Tuesday's Game 3 with four career Series saves, two from tying Rollie Fingers as the all-time World Series leaden Because of Game 2's 7-2 score and lack of a save opportunity, Rivera won't get a chance--this year, at least--to surpass Fingers.

But just wait because two professional epiphanies turned Rivera into arguably the most-feared reliever in the majors and unarguably the most effective in World Series history: 1) when he realized that no matter the result he was, and would be for the foreseeable future, the Yankees' closer when Wetteland left for the Hangers after the 1996 season, and 2) when he learned that there's more than one way to throw a fastball.

The former helped him adjust to his role, the latter to excel at it. On the day Rivera closed out the Braves in Game 1, going 1 1/3 scoreless (what else?) innings, manager Joe Tone remembered the rocky early beginning to his closer's career: "He had trouble functioning as a closer early on. We kept saying you're going to get the ball, I don't care how many times you spit it up."

Rivera says once that notion settled in, he began to learn how to do this job. When the call comes today, he takes with him the necessary confidence and, more important, a lethal cut fastball.

It wasn't until 1997 that Rivera started toying with the grip on his fastball. He began immediately to evolve from a strikeout pitcher (he averaged almost 11 per nine innings in '96 as setup man to Wetteland) to one who induces ground balls, thus improving his efficiency and making him available more often to Torre. Now he uses almost exclusively the cut fastball clocked in the mid-90s that seems much faster because he lulls hitters with a smooth delivery that explodes the ball in on hitters' hands.

"Every appearance he breaks at least one bat," Cone says. "We keep a tally on the bench."

Try this tally, too: Lefthanders hit .143 with one home run against him this season, a direct result of his cutter. "No one has a cut fastball like him," Red Sox first baseman Mike Stanley says. "You're thinking it's a slider, then you see it hit 96, 97 mph on the screen and you're like, `Geez, no wonder this guy is so good.'"

The Braves learned the hard lesson in this World Series. Maybe, then, the Braves' Brian Jordan has the only foolproof plan to avoid getting blown away by the cutter: "One way to beat him is to not let him get into the ballgame."

That doesn't necessarily translate to beating the Yankees. Mendoza and Jeff Nelson worked the final two innings of Game 2 while Rivera warmed up in the bullpen. Just in case.

RELATED ARTICLE: WORLD SERIES CAPSULES

GAME 1

HERO: Orlando Hernandez pitched seven innings of one-hit ball, showing off a dazzling assortment of pitches and arm angles to keep the Braves off-stride and move to 5-0 in six career playoff starts. His postseason ERA stands at 1.02, trailing only Sandy Koufax and teammate Mariano Rivera among players with at least 40 playoff innings.

GOAT: Brian Hunter, inserted into the lineup as a defensive replacement at first base for Ryan Klesko, committed two errors in the eighth inning as the Yankees turned a 1-0 deficit into a 4-1 lead. Hunter made four errors in 114 regular-season games, but he became the first player at his position to commit two in one World Series inning since the Milwaukee Brave's Frank Torre (Joe's brother) did it in 1958 against, yep, the Yankees.

WHY THE YANKEES WON: New York's opportunism continues to be the difference between it and its opponents. When Hunter's error on a bunt left a sliver of daylight, the Yankees broke through with timely hitting (a two-run single by Paul O'Neill). Once New York has the lead late, forget about it; it turns to Rivera, who is automatic.