The Closer's Ripple Effect

If you're a closer in MLB, like me now (closing games is never on a starting pitcher's To Do list, unless you think you can complete what you started), there's more to the end result than your team's place in the standings.  A blown save has a ripple effect. 

Remember the old nursery rhyme, The House That Jack Built?  Here's the last verse:

This is the farmer sowing his corn
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built

Now use that thought process to think about what happens when a closer blows a save:

This is the closer who blew the save and lost the lead

For the starting pitcher who did not get the win and lost the big contract

From the big GM who fired the manager then lost his own job

With the organization that changed its course

Because of the save the closer blew

If I blow a save, my stats are negatively affected.  25 saves in 28 attempts is very good.  25 saves in 35 attempts is very bad.  Right now, I'm 26 for 32.  That's right in the middle.  I am neither "elite" nor "pitiful."  I am "average."  Average is tough for a guy who's always been a "superstar."  Which means this: Superstars earn huge megabucks (the dollar bills we receive are literally larger in size and heavier in weight than those of mere mortals).  Once you are no longer a superstar, the dollars get fewer and lighter.  We become more like the human race.  We are humbled.  Our time grows short.  In other words, if I blow anymore saves, my chances for a new contract in the off season grow slimmer.

But that's just me.  The ripple effect goes deeper.

Let's say a starting pitcher is 10 and 5.  That's okay.  But if he could have been 13 and 5, there's a difference.  If those three wins aren't on his baseball card because his closer didn't close, than his wallet gets lighter.  The years on his next contract decrease.  He may feel additional pressure to pitch longer in a game and throw harder.  He may think he has to do it all by himself.  Which means he may change something about the way he earned those 10 wins.  Which means he may get hurt and never fulfill the promise that was there before his closer started blowing saves everytime this guy pitched.  Yes, other stats would have proven the guy was worthy of a better record.  But front offices will use anything in their power to pay less dollars for lesser stats.  Believe me, a pitcher knows who butters his bread.  And he'll do whatever it takes to keep away from the margarine (stupid analogy, but I'm sticking to it, even if it doesn't make sense).

Now we have the manager.  His team misses the playoffs by a game or two.  He doesn't get that lucrative extension.  He may get fired.  If the closer had done his job, maybe the manager would still have his.  But the closer failed, this reflected on the manager, who goes from the Big Leagues to signing autographs for short lines of hardcore fans at a Sarasota card show in just a few months.

Let's not forget the GM.  Like with the manager, he gets blamed for 1) his team's failures, 2) his failure to obtain a better closer, 3) his failure to have someone ready in the minors to bring up and do the job since the closer obviously sucked and blew a few too many games during the season.

Finally, you have a full organization.  If a team is built to make the playoffs and misses, even if it's by one game (blame the closer here), the whole organization, from ownership on down, takes a microscope to everything done over the past year.  Maybe the failure of the closer taught everyone some sort of world-changing lesson, like never to turn a former superstar starting pitcher into a closer again; the kind of lesson that shakes things up, starts a rebuilding effort, hurts attendance, decreases revenues and sends casual fans and young kids to that team on the other side of town, hurting the future as well.  A few blown saves can change lives here.

So when you think about 9th inning pressure, put yourself in the closer's shoes and socks and underpants.  Feel that sweat.  Imagine the tingles.  It's harder than throwing a ball and more important than winning one game.  A blown save doesn't lead to a single loss.  It can lead to a team's radical and cataclysmic change.