Good Game, Great Guy

Tom Glavine won tonight. And the Mets beat the Dodgers. Glavine's line: 6.1 IP, 5 H, 0 R, 0 BB, 5 K, 101 pitches, 62 for strikes. He is listed at 13-6 with a 3.98 ERA. And none of that had anything to do with his greatest victory tonight. He pitched. Into the 7th. It was his second start since he got back.
Tom was out for a couple weeks. While he had been diagnosed with Raynaud's Phenomenon in 1990, he never made any noise about it. Believe me, he has been my favorite player since 1988. If there had been reports about this, I'd have seen them. Raynaud's causes numbness in the extremities. Glavine has pitched the last 16 years with no feeling in the index and middle fingers of his gifted left hand after his pitching assignments. Just the cost of doing his job.
287 wins into his Hall of Fame career, the cold spread to his ring finger. At that point, he knew he was in trouble. The trouble was diagnosed as blood clots. Devastating words to a pitcher. Remember James Rodney Richard? Glavine might need surgery, they said. The implication was that his season, this magical Mets' season, would be lost. And perhaps his career was over.
Tommy John, Bert Blyleven, Jim Kaat. Great pitchers, all. Genuine competitors. All just short of 300 wins. None of them in the Hall of Fame. All just short of immortality because the clock ran out on them. Not because of illness/injury. Tommy would go to the Hall, on the first ballot, with no more wins. That isn't the issue.
The issue is that cosmic justice cried out for Glavine to get to finish his career, and leave on his own terms. Tom was never elegant like Maddux. I saw Greg Maddux pitch a complete game with 76 pitches. Tom grinds his out. He never threw as hard as Smoltz. I doubt that anyone ever stood in a batter's box and felt fear for their physical well-being because Tom Glavine was on the mound. He never had Avery's stuff.
What Tom always had was intelligence and determination. And toughness. He may look like everybody's brother-in-law, but that guy is as tough as nails. I appreciate Maddux, but when he was done, he quit. Almost asked out of the game. Whenever Bobby Cox came out with Glavine on the mound, he had to bring a crowbar. He never quit. He never asked out.
He was the heart and soul of the Braves' run. Oh, they've won a few more divisions since he left for New York. But they haven't advanced in the postseason. Not once. Not since their guts-Tom Glavine-got cast off over one stinking year on a contract.
He won all of those games, picked up a couple of Cy Youngs, led the greatest team sports run in history, and all the time gave strong leadership to the players' union-often bearing the fans' wrath post-1994, because he was the leading voice and face for all the players during that strike.
He also set the standard for lending his name, face and energy to the charitable community in Atlanta, principles that he carried to New York, leading to his 2005 Clemente Award nomination by the Mets.
I am thrilled that I'll get to watch Tom win his 300th game sometime next year. And if everything breaks just right, maybe I'll be in the stands at Turner Field as Tommy wins that game in a far more attractive uniform than the Mets' orange and blue. I'm delighted that he will continue his career until he's ready to call it quits. But I'm far more grateful that he is well, and back to doing what he loves. He is what all players should be.
I have already informed my wife that our vacation, 5 years after Tom hangs up his spikes, will be at Cooperstown, NY, on Induction Weekend. I wouldn't miss it for the world.