Casting a vote that did not include Rivera's name would have been without excuse. His numbers speak for themselves, but his character sets him apart. Call me a biased Yankees fan if you'd like, but Mariano is my favorite ballplayer of all-time. I've met Yankees legends before, and I've really enjoyed those experiences. I talked to Johnny Damon about stealing two bases at once in the 2009 World Series, and about the drinking habits of Wade Boggs on airplanes. I conversed with Clete Boyer about manning the hot corner flawlessly and winning World Series with Mantle, Maris, Yogi, and Whitey. I spoke with Doc Gooden about pitching a no-hitter and which stadium they took his picture in for his 1984 Fleer Update rookie card he had just signed for me. But if I'm ever fortunate enough to meet Mariano, I might just cry and give him a hug.
And that's how his career ended. Nearly 44 years old, pitching in his final game, Manager Joe Girardi sent Derek Jeter and Andy Pettitte out to the mound to take Mariano Rivera out of the game. He broke down and wept in the arms of both teammates. Three legends stood there, who had grown up together in the minor leagues in the early 1990s, Rivera having signed with the Yankees as a fisherman from Panama for a signing bonus of a few thousand dollars. Jeter had become the Captain and one of the greatest shortstops of all-time, Pettitte a premiere starter who thrived in the playoffs, and Rivera the one you trusted on the mound in the game's most tense moments on its biggest stage.
Rivera finally broke into the big leagues in 1995 at age 25, the same year in which the other three members of the Core Four (Jeter, Pettitte, and Jorge Posada) made their major league debuts. He was not great. The Yankees had him come up and start some games, which went poorly, and he was then banished to the bullpen. Between ten starts and nine appearances out of the bullpen that year, Rivera finished the season with a 5-3 record and an uninspiring 5.51 ERA. However, his performance out of the bullpen in the playoffs was stellar and the Yankees hung onto him, rather than moving forward with tentative plans to trade him. Rivera never made another major league start.
The Yankees moved Rivera to the bullpen permanently, and he had a great year as the setup man in 1996, ending with the Yankees winning the World Series. Closer John Wetteland won the World Series MVP Award after saving all four Yankees wins, but the Yankees chose not to resign him after the season, instead opting to give Rivera a chance at closing out games. It was a decision they will never regret. By the time he walked off that mound one final time, tears in his eyes, taking off his hat to salute the crowd, Mariano Rivera had saved a record 652 games during the regular season. Named to 13 all-star teams, his record stood at 82-60, with a 2.21 ERA and a WHIP of 1.000. Those are impressive numbers, but his postseason numbers put them to shame, because they don't even make sense.
Rivera somehow got better when the heat was on in the playoffs, against the best hitters in the game. He was named MVP of one of the five World Series Championships he helped the Yankees win, but he should have been named MVP of the dynasty. In 141 innings across 96 playoff games, Rivera saved 42 games, with an 8-1 record. His WHIP was 0.759. His ERA was 0.70. No one will ever match what he did in the playoffs. Most of the damage, to opposing teams and bats, was done with his cutter.
While he had a great year out of the bullpen in 1996, it wasn't until 1997 when his cutter showed up. Rivera told the story to Michael Kay on CenterStage: He was playing catch with fellow pitcher Ramiro Mendoza before a game, and Mendoza was getting frustrated because the ball kept cutting at the last moment. Rivera insisted he wasn't doing anything differently than usual, and certainly wasn't doing it on purpose. He and pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre tried to fix it, but they could not, and they soon realized it was not something that ought to be corrected, as batters were largely helpless against the pitch. Rivera, a devout Christian man, calls it a gift from God. It sure was. Batters knew what was coming, but they still couldn't hit it, for nearly two decades.
What a treat it was for a Yankees fan like me to grow up watching Mariano pitch, from the time I was a kid, through much of my 20s. I remember being in Yankee Stadium countless times when the Yankees went into the ninth inning with a lead. Inevitably, Metallica's "Enter Sandman" would blare over the loudspeakers, and Mariano Rivera would jog in to finish the job, just as he had during the World Series in 1998, 1999, 2000. When Jimmy Rollins said the Phillies were going to beat the Yankees in five games during the 2009 World Series, and Rivera was asked to comment, rather than offering his own prediction, he simply stated, "That's not what's going to happen." The Yankees won in six games, with Rivera once again closing out the Fall Classic.
My favorite piece in my memorabilia collection is a baseball signed by Mariano Rivera. My dad got it for me when he was working somewhere where Rivera's brother-in-law was also working. I was in college at the time, and when Dad told me who he was working with, I asked if he could get Rivera to sign a baseball card for me. A few months later, my dad told me that his friend had apologized to him because he lost my baseball card. But to make up for it, Dad's friend gave him a baseball signed by Rivera to give to me instead. Dad passed away in 2011, but some of the memories I have with him are of going to Yankee Stadium, watching Yankees games on the couch at home, and playing catch in the backyard. I never accidentally developed a cutter.
Rivera is spending a lot of time with his family now, and with his church, and helping out those who are less fortunate. He always has. He never asked to be Sandman. If he chose the music that played when he came into the game, he said he would have chosen a Christian song. He never asked for the most devastating cutter of all-time, or to create so much scrap lumber on a baseball field. God gave him a gift. And, with Mariano Rivera, God gave Yankees fans and baseball fans everywhere a gift. He embodies all of the great things a baseball player and a compassionate human being should be.
Mo wasn't a perfect ballplayer though. He was a subpar starter for ten games, and he blew some saves, even in the playoffs, and even in Game Seven of the World Series. And he's not a perfect human being. Everyone sins, and everyone makes mistakes. But Rivera's legacy is incredible because of how many times he did things well and did things right, inside and outside of the diamond. I was at Yankee Stadium in 2013 on the day the Yankees retired Rivera's number, 42. Having been retired across the Major Leagues in 1997 to honor Jackie Robinson, Rivera was grandfathered in and became the last man to wear that hallowed number (apart from every April 15 when everyone wears it to honor Jackie). He was humbled and honored by this, and did Jackie and baseball proud while wearing number 42. No one could have done it better, and if anyone is deserving of 100 percent of the vote for induction into the Hall of Fame, it is Mariano Rivera. A unanimous selection is the perfect way for Sandman to enter Cooperstown.
...And for those of you who thought this was going to be a political post about Nick Sandmann, besides the obvious differences in spelling and baseball statistics, Sandman has stared down the Indians and emerged victorious more than once.
