While one
former Sox reliever heads to Cleveland, another one is departing.
Keith Foulke, bothered over the last couple years by bad knees, a bad elbow and a worse Boston scene,
called it a career today. What's interesting is that he retired before going to camp, which means he could've easily squeezed $5 million out of the Indians and chose not to. That takes some stones.
He'll be best remembered for his incredible performance in keying the Red Sox's comeback over the Yankees and recording the final out of the 2004 World Series, but here are the three things I'll remember about Foulke in Chicago:
No. 1: That change. I liked Foulke because he didn't look intimidating, and his fastball was nothing but a complementary pitch, but he still turned into a dominating closer. It was about 10 m.p.h. slower than his fastball, and always had that bit of drop at the very end that kept hitters fooled for as long as he was healthy. Only Pedro Martinez and Trevor Hoffman featured a better one.
No. 2: Emblematic of Jerry Manuel's regime. Manuel never liked Foulke. He wanted a closer with "closer stuff," and when Foulke struggled in May, Manager Ghandi used that as an excuse to bury him.
And bury him he did.
From June to October, Foulke posted an ERA of 1.80 in 55 innings with a WHIP under 1.00 -- and saved only three more games. Manuel instead chose Antonio Osuna and Damaso Marte to close, and it pretty much forced Kenny Williams to find somebody Manuel liked.
The Sox ended up with Billy Koch, who Manuel repeatedly trotted out in the ninth despite the fact that he had nothing going for him -- all because he threw a whopping 2 m.p.h. harder. It wasn't long after that Manuel found himself out of a job, thank goodness.
No. 3: The Sox-Tigers brawl. Even though Foulke should've had some experience in fracases with his hockey background, he somehow managed to get the worst of it. The gash on his face required five stitches, and gave him a permanent reminder of his White Sox career.
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On
a brighter note:
Jay Mariotti, who pops up in the paper almost as often
as those naked kids in the "Love Is ..." comics, counted up his columns
the other day and realized he's already written more pieces than his
contract requires him to deliver for the 12-month period ending April
30.
So rather than pound out another explanation for why things
aren't the way they ought to be, he intends to take a vacation--until
May. So much for the Masters, the NCAA Final Four, baseball's opening
day and the first blown save of the season.
While fully aware Hawk Harrelson only needs to hear the Sun-Times columnist's name to set him off, this should hopefully give us one month free of "Heinie Bird" references and petty back-and-forth sniping. When those two go at it, nobody wins.