They call this the year of the pitcher, and I could not agree more. For the baseball fan who loves the art and symmetry imbued in a well crafted pitching performance, you’ve certainly had a lot of reasons to hang on the edge of your seat. Braden, Garza, Hernandez, Galarraga, and many others have all given us cause to save our ticket stubs and bore our future grand children. However, few hurlers have produced as much sepia-toned memory fodder this year as Roy Halladay. And, while the rest of us mull over the historical impact one pitcher can have on his first foray into the National League, I’m sure, knowing Doc, he’s not slowing down to cut out news paper headlines. That’s what makes the Doctor, the Doctor, after all; he doesn’t take five to celebrate himself, he wants results, and boy is he getting them.
If you’d have told me Doc would throw a perfect game this season then follow it up with a no-hitter his first time in the play offs, it wouldn’t have shocked me at all. Doc has always pitched as if he’s competing with Moore’s Law, not the rest of the MLB. He logs more innings with less pitches and fewer walks than nearly every other competitor in his position, year after year. In fact, he logs more complete games then most competing team pitching staffs combined, which, given modern baseball’s penchant for matching every genus of pitcher against every species of hitter, is flat out mind boggling. I know when Doc pitched for the Blue Jays it was generally accepted that the bullpen had the night off when he took the mound so I can only imagine the appreciation the shoulders and elbows in the Phillies’ pen, a national league pen no less, have for the Doctor’s healthy arm prescription.
The work Roy Halladay puts in on the field, as impressive as it is, is only a side effect of what he puts in off it. Observe Roy’s work ethic for just one cycle of the pitching rotation and any doubt you held that Chuck Norris was just God warming up to create Halladay (which explains their similar looks) will irrevocably be destroyed. Yet, beyond the legendary work ethic, the thing that may strike you the most is Doc’s respect for the game.
Roy Halladay couldn’t fake the way he is if he tried. He has no routine to forge for the camera, no mask of invented public persona. He simply is who he is, and that person is one possessed with a single-minded focus to be the best; a consuming, unquenchable thirst for excellence. It is for this reason I believe so many hearts where broken in Toronto when Doc left. It’s as if, dare I say it, he is an athlete who realizes exactly what an amazing gift he has and tires every day to get the most out of it. When he walks around a clubhouse with that missile lock type focus on his face, you know what’s on his agenda. His silent, sweat-dripping, camera dodging dedication is the ultimate form of respect to fans, and to the game he toils to master. Great players come and go, but in a world where television specials are commissioned to announce team signings, and ESPN spins 24 hour coverage of those vacillating over retirement, it’s refreshing to know there is someone unquestionably committed to the integrity of his profession. In the end, isn’t that all we can truly ask of the people we cheer for?
I don’t think it comes as a surprise to anyone that the good Doctor is this year’s Baseball America MLB Player of the Year. It will undoubtedly be added to a pile of lifetime awards that may be only be measured in sheer tonnage. I also don’t think it will come as a surprise to anyone if Roy doesn’t stop long enough to say much about it. After all, what is there for him to say that his pitching and dedication haven’t already told us?
– Dirk
