The Curious Case of Mark Wohlers

Those of you who are unfamiliar with the Braves machine of the 1990's may not recognize the name "Mark Wohlers" right off the bat.

Those of you who consider yourselves Bravos faithful, on the other hand, can only shake their heads at the mere mention.

First, a bit of background. Mark was a young fireballer out of Holyoke, Massachusetts, signed fresh out of high school by the Braves in 1988. He spent three years in the minors honing his craft: relief pitching.

Now, not every young pitcher dreams about eating up late innings, waiting on the closer to get loose. But Wohlers thrived, in no small part because he was surrounded by (and you can argue with me on this, but you'll never convince me otherwise) the best pitching staff ever assembled by mortal men. Wohlers was a fantastic setup man from his callup in 1991 until he was promoted to closer in 1995. He showed he was a puppy with big paws just a month after his major league debut when he pitched two innings between starter Kent Mercker and closer Alejandro Peña, combining for a no-hitter against the Padres.

Wohlers earned his keep with just a handful of pitches: an average slider and a good split-finger fastball.

Oh, and the fastest fastball in the league, regularly crossing the 100 MPH mark, and reaching 103 MPH in a spring training game in 1995.

Mark's position in the Braves roster of pitchers was a unique one. Surrounded by control and finesse, Wohlers was the quintessential power pitcher: who cares if it's right down the middle as long as it's too fast to hit?

Fast forward to the 1996 World Series. Mark made his first All-Star team as a closer, using his skills to their maximum potential. His 39 saves (combined with his 100 strikeouts) proved he was just as valuable to the team as Smoltz, Glavine, Maddux, and the rest. He helped the Braves make it back to the Fall Classic, facing the resurgent New York Yankees. The significance of the South's premiere team facing the "Yankees" was not lost on the news media, resulting in more than a handful of headlines intimating that the South would rise again after the World Championship run the previous year.

Game 4 rolls around. The Braves won the first pair in New York by a combined 15-1, but Game 3 in Atlanta went to the Yanks 5-2.

The Braves lead after the seventh, 6-3. The eighth begins, and the beloved Bobby Cox decides to put his best late-game pitcher in to preserve the score. Wohlers comes in to cover two innings.

An inauspicious start as journeyman Charlie Hayes and walking-endorsement-of-clean-living Darryl Strawberry both reach on singles. Hayes advances to third due to a bad play on Mariano Duncan's hit by Pacman Rafael Belliard. Jim Leyritz comes to bat, and here is where things get a little bit fuzzy.

Six pitches later and Leyritz sends one over the left field fence, accomplishing three things: scoring three runs, tying the game, and shattering the confidence of what had been one of the most dominant closers over the past three years.

Wohlers muddled through the ninth, but he was pulled at the end of regulation baseball. Once-great starter Steve Avery came in to mop up in the tenth and promptly gave up three wallks and a single, giving the Yanks a one-run lead. Brad Clontz, who none of you will ever hear of outside of this article, then gave up a fly ball dropped by poster-child-for-wasted-potential Ryan Klesko to cement the win for New York.

The Braves lost the next two games, and have yet to win another World Series game.

Back to Mark Wohlers, after the horrid end of the season in '96, 1997 was a minor hiccup. He doubled his walk ratio (a harbinger of things to come), but still recorded 33 saves.

1998. Mark Wohlers, previously a reliable flamethrowing closer, forgets something. Something important. Namely, how to throw a fastball for a strike.

It has many names. The Yips. Dartitis. Steve Blass Disease. But what it boils down to is an inability to do what once came as naturally as breathing.

It has happened before. Not just to the aforementioned Steve Blass, who couldn't perform in 1973, but to many pitchers. Kevin Saucier. Clay Kirby. Randy Jones. Sam Mitiello.

It happened after. Rick Ankiel, perhaps the most famous of the recent sufferers, transitioned to an outfielder once he came to terms with his malady.

Mark walked 33 batters in 21.1 innings. Such a performance led to Triple-A Richmond, where he walked 36 batters in 12.1 innings.

Finally, the Braves put Wohlers on the disabled list. Everyone knew why. Nothing was physically wrong with him. But they had to put something down on the form. They finally decided on the three harshest words ever uttered in baseball history: inability to pitch.

Wohlers stuck around for a few years, bouncing around the league to the Reds, the Yankees, and the Indians. But he was never the same after that fateful day in Atlanta in 1996.

Sources:
Wildly Out of Control
The Baseball Cube
Retrosheet
Baseball Reference
Wikipedia, because I'm a horrible person

Brian McCann: Make The Switch

That bat? MAGIC!

Given: Brian McCann is the second or third most powerful hitter in the Atlanta lineup, behind some combination of Jason Heyward, Chipper Jones, and maybe Dan Uggla (if Uggla's previous non-Braves performance is an accurate indicator).

Given: Jason Heyward is going to be around a long time, and hopefully will continue his overall trend of being awesome. The consummate five-tool player.

Given: Chipper, on the other hand, will be kicked up to the coach's section of the bus within two years. He is one of the top three greatest switch-hitters in the history of baseball and is (in the minds of most everyone with a functioning forebrain) going to be making a nice little speech at Cooperstown within a decade. Chipper also either never used steroids or never got caught, making him a nice counterpoint to the raging roidheads that will be his competition for space in the Hall.

Given: Dan Uggla's acquisition is arguably the first time the Braves have gone after a "star" second baseman, and so far (four games into the season) shows promise of staying there for the length of his contract (five years).

Given: Brian McCann, although a pretty good catcher, contributes more as a hitter than a catcher. He's committed more errors than any other starting catcher the past two years, and has never been less than 3rd in total errors.

Given: Brian McCann, as a result of the high-fatigue position of catcher, misses 20 to 30 games per year. Not a massive amount for a catcher, but more than your average starting third baseman. Plus, he's not getting any younger, and extensive damage is going to be done to his knees in the next few years.

Creepiest photo of McCann I could find.

Proposition: Since Chipper is going to be gone soon, and Brian is a better batter than a catcher, the Braves and Fredi Gonzalez need to start transitioning McCann to 3rd as soon as possible. He'll last longer as a player, he'll get more at-bats, and hopefully his knees won't be as powdery as the foul lines when he's sixty. J.C. Boscan is a decent catcher and sitting in AAA waiting to be called up. Wilkin Castillo and Shawn McGill are other options if Boscan doesn't work out.

TL;DR, McCann is awesome and I want him to be more awesome on a more frequent basis. Going to 3rd is a way to do that.