Rob:
The story is coming out now that Brenly’s decision to pull Schilling after just 88 pitches in Game 4, a decision that most of us ridiculed, came after Schilling gave clear signals that he was spent. Most pitchers would deny they were tired even after their pitching arm fell off in mid-pitch, and I imagine that’s doubly so for Schilling. So I’m prepared to cut Brenly some slack for bringing in Kim in the eighth, even though that decision gave the Yankees a chance to come back in both Game 4 and Game 5.
But Brenly hardly gets off scot-free. After all, when he sent Kim out there to pitch the 10th in Game 4, Brenly had to know that he was making him unavailable for Game 5. (Keith Woolner did a little research, and he tells me that a pitcher has come into a game the day after throwing 60 pitches just twice in the last three years—and both times it was in Colorado, where the rules are a little different.)
For the first eight innings last night, it looked like Brenly understood that. He stuck with Miguel Batista well past the bounds of reason, allowing him to throw 126 pitches, his longest outing in 18 months. Batista was just effective enough to keep the Yankees off the board, and when he got into a jam in the eighth, Greg Swindell got Tino Martinez to fly out to end the threat.
If Brenly had left Swindell out there in the ninth, the Series might be totally different.
Swindell is, after Kim, the best reliever on the squad, and he’s certainly the most accomplished. He’s been one of the best lefty relievers in baseball since 1997. He had an up-and-down year, mostly because he was very homer-prone this year, but with a two-run lead that’s not an issue until someone gets on base—and Swindell, unlike Kim, has exceptional control. If I were Brenly, I would have let Swindell start the ninth and left him out there at least until the tying run came to the plate.
Actually, if I were Brenly, I would have had Randy Johnson secretly warming up in the dugout tunnels. Maybe that’s crazy, but the Diamondbacks were facing a situation in which:
1) They were three outs away from taking a 3-2 series lead, and going home with Johnson and Schilling set to start Games 6 and 7.2) Their best reliever had thrown more than 60 pitches the night before. 3) The Diamondbacks literally had no other quality relievers in the bullpen. 4) Their best starter had not thrown in three days. 5) Tomorrow was an off day. 6) Perhaps most important, Johnson has a history of bailing out his team as a reliever in the playoffs, with spectacular results. In Game 5 of the 1995 ALDS, Johnson shut down these very Yankees in extra innings until the Mariners could mount their series-winning rally in the 11th.
I understand the argument against it. Game 5 was not an elimination game, and you generally save desperation strategies like this one for games in which your back is to the wall.
But really, wasn’t Game 5 a real must-win for the D-Backs? Didn’t they know that if they lost Game 5—especially after holding a two-run lead into the ninth—the Yankees would probably be bringing their dancing troupe (Mystique and Aura … performing nightly!) with them to Arizona? Wouldn’t another shocking late-inning collapse completely take the fight out of the Diamondbacks? I know that’s hardly an analytical statement, but ask any Red Sox fan if they thought their team had any chance of winning Game 7 in 1986.
And ask any Diamondbacks fan whether they think their team has any chance of bouncing back to win this Series.
