Hey, we're not the only ones remembering Cito...
I came across the following over at the Tao of Stieb:
Watching Game 6 of the 1992 World Series last night, it struck us that the great and knighted Cito Gaston had a propensity to make some bone-headed decisions. Cito inserted Jimmy Key into the game in the 10th, but didn't bother with a double switch which would have moved Key further down the lineup and moving the more defensively sure John Olerud into the field. Instead, Key was inserted directly into the lineup, which meant that he had to lead off the next inning.
If Gibby pulled anything close to that in a meaningless game in April, the entire press box and Jays blogosphere would be in absolute paroxysms of rage for months afterwards.
This struck a deep and resonant chord. Being ancient and full of... years, among other things, I have vivid memories of actually living through much of this history. So let me drag myself away from my current studies of the 2008 Atlanta Braves, and think back upon that tense struggle with their 1992 squad.
For I remember thinking that very thing as it happened, on that Saturday night in October sixteen years ago. I actually spoke aloud to the radio - wait a second? The pitcher's spot is up first next inning? And no double switch? Earth to Cito! Why?
And why the radio, you ask? My television was broken. I watched Game 1 at a friend's place. Jays lost. After the Jays won the next three games, I went back to watch Game 5 on the tube. Which they lost. At that point, I resolved there would be no more screwing around, and committed myself to the radio. The things we do....
Anyway, I thought it very strange at the time, and if the Blue Jays hadn't almost instantly won the game, the series, and the whole damn championship - I don't know about paroxysms of rage but there would certainly have been some awkward questions.
But it's strange. What seemed inexplicable at the time doesn't seem quite so odd in retrospect. Granted, there's nothing like Winning the Damn World Series to cast a warm glow on just about anything. But bear with me!
Let's set the game situation. It's the bottom of the 10th. The score is tied 2-2. The top of the inning just ended with Pat Tabler pinch hitting for Manuel Lee. Here's your lineup:
White, cf
Alomar, 2b
Carter, 1b
Winfield, rf
Maldonado, lf
Gruber, 3b
Borders, c
Tabler, ph
Henke, p
Henke is due to lead off the next inning against Atlanta LH Charlie Liebrandt. But that's only if Henke makes it through the bottom of the10th. Which seems unlikely - he threw 28 pitches in the bottom of the 9th. Derek Bell has already been used as a pinch hitter. Alfredo Griffin obviously has to come into the game to play shortstop. Beyond that, you've still got John Olerud and Ed Sprague on the bench. In the bullpen, Mark Eichhorn, Mike Timlin, and Game 4 starter Jimmy Key are available. Key's had two days rest since working 7.2 innings (86 pitches) on Wednesday. Timlin and Eichhorn each worked a scoreless inning in Thursday's Game 5 defeat.
Leading off for the Braves is 3b Terry Pendleton, a switch-hitter. He'll be followed by two lefty batters, RF Dave Justice and 1B Sid Bream. What to do?
1. Gaston could have have immediately brought Key into the game, inserting him in the 8 spot in the order. Griffin would come in to play short, batting 9th, and leading off the next inning.
2. He leaves Henke in - Griffin goes in at short batting 8th.
Gaston went for Door Number 2, and Henke got Pendleton. The question at this point had really amounted this: who would you rather have pitch to Terry Pendleton - Tom Henke or Jimmy Key? Pendleton had faced Henke twice in his career, both times earlier in this
series - he struck out and popped out in foul ground. The only time he
had faced Key was when he went 0-3 against him in Game 4. He'd flied
out to right and lined out twice.
Pendleton was a switch-hitter, but he had a long history of being much better against left-hand pitchers. In 1992, he hit .356 against them, and .290 against right-handers. His final career numbers would be .262 against RHP and .287 against LHP.
The Jays had scouts, and Gaston was presumably aware of those numbers. So Henke stayed in for the first batter. But now, with the LH batters, Gaston sent for Jimmy Key. If you're going to do a double-switch, now is the time. There were two possible ways to do this:
Option 1. Olerud comes in to play 1b. Carter goes to either LF (replacing Maldonado) or RF (replacing Winfield). The pitcher takes the departed outfielder's place in the batting order, either 4th (if Winfield leaves) or 5th (if Maldonado leaves.)
This means that Olerud will lead off the 11th against Liebrandt. Over his first three seasons, Olerud didn't play all that much against LH - at that point in his career, he'd never faced Liebrandt (they wouldn't meet until 1993, when Liebrandt went to Texas.) Olerud had held his own against southpaws in his limited exposure to them (.268 with 9 HR in 254 at bats). In 1992, he hit .258/.393/.392 against them. His chances of doing something were certainly better than Key's, who had never batted in the major leagues (Game 4 had been in Toronto, with the DH in effect.)
Option 2. Sprague comes in to catch, batting 9th and leading off the next inning. Key comes into the 7th spot in the order. Sprague had made three appearances in the series, all as a pinch-hitter - he'd hit the dramatic Game 2 homer hitting for Duane Ward, batted for Olerud in Game 3 and received an intentional walk before Maldonado's game-winning hit, and flied out batting for Olerud in Game 5. On that last occasion, he'd stayed in the game at first base. While he was the team's backup catcher for this series, he'd caught just 15 games in the majors at this point in his career, and none in the last three weeks - and he'd shown very little aptitude for throwing out opposition base stealers. The Braves baserunners had been tormenting regular catcher Pat Borders through the entire series - they stole 15 bases (3 caught stealing) in the six games. In the 7th inning of this very game, Gaston had been willing to burn two pitchers to put a stop to it. He replaced Todd Stottlemyre with David Wells with two out and Otis Nixon on first in order to: a) give Borders a better chance of actually throwing out a base stealer, and b) get Deion Sanders out of the game. With Ron Gant pinch-hitting, Borders threw out Nixon stealing, and Wells was done for the night (.1 IP, no batters faced) and Ward took over for the 8th.
The first order of business, of course, was to make it through the bottom of the inning, which is what argues against bringing in Sprague to catch. But bringing in Olerud would improve the defense, at two spots - he was a better first baseman than Carter, who was a better outfielder than both Maldonado and the 41 year old version of Winfield.
But here's the thing. Once you get through the inning, Olerud leads off. And if something good happens, and a rally starts to form - maybe someone gets hit by a pitch, maybe someone knocks out a base hit - Jimmy Key is going to come up to bat in Winfield's spot with runners on base. There may be two outs by then. Ed Sprague will have to bat for him, and then there's no bench left at all. If you don't take the lead, you've got Eichhorn and Timlin to get you through the rest of the game. However long it goes on. And if any of your position players turns an ankle, you're totally screwed.
I suppose you could say that Gaston essentially chose to bite a bullet, get this regrettable at bat out of his way as soon as possible, and play a two out inning.
This stuff is lots of fun - how about the Braves in the bottom of the 11th, with runners on 1st and 3rd with none out, down by 2 runs in the last inning of the season if they don't tie the game, dropping down a sac bunt? The lead runner held at third, the pinch runner (John Smoltz) moved up to second. But really - was this any time for small ball? Of course, when Rafael Belliard is swinging the bat for you, there aren't all that many options...
Gaston pulled something equally head-scratching almost exactly a year later. In Game 4 of the 1993 series, with the Jays trailing by four runs, Tony Castillo led off the seventh inning. At that point in his career, Castillo had exactly one hit in 12 major league at bats. He struck out, and even after the next inning's fireworks, the opposing Phillies were still flabbergasted that Castillo had actually come to the plate. "They gave up", they muttered darkly, in bitter disbelief.
Castillo pitched the seventh inning and gave up another run as the Jays fell five runs behind; he then scooped up the W when the Jays exploded for six runs in the 8th inning. Castillo's spot came up again in the midst of it all - there was one out, two runs had scored to make it 14-11 Phillies, and the bases were loaded. This time Ed Sprague batted for Castillo and struck out. But Henderson followed with a two-run single and White followed that with a two-run triple...
Good times!
https://www.battersbox.ca/article.php?story=20080307085804220