Jamie Moyer: Houdini in Seattle

(Jamie is now pitching for the Philadelphia Phillies. He is still effective and is now the Houdini of the east.)
 
Jamie Moyer is like the all-star basketball player you go to watch, and after the game, you say, “Gee, he didn’t do much today,” until you look at the score sheet and see that he had thirty points and fifteen rebounds. Jamie has averaged over 15 wins the last six seasons, and hardly anyone outside of Seattle pays attention. This year, he already has ten wins, and people are just starting to notice. The sad fact is, to most people, there is nothing spectacular about a soft tossing lefty who knows how to pitch, continually upsets hitters’ timing, doesn’t strike out a lot of guys, and doesn’t toot his own horn, but wins. The other day, I commented to him that he is having another outstanding year, but that hardly anyone outside Seattle was noticing. He replied, “That’s the way it should be.” He would just as soon have it that way. I’ve got him figured out. It’s all part of his deception.
 
Jamie is like Houdini, the master of deception. Watch him pitch from the side, and even the fans say, “I could hit this guy.” After all, he is just 6 feet tall and 175lbs. He’s probably 6’1” but wants you to believe he’s smaller. Stand him next to Roger Clemens and you’d probably think he was the Rocket’s agent. There is no stream of intensity flowing out of him on the mound, just deep concentration like that of an accountant pouring over numbers and theories.
 
When he throws the ball, what you see is what you don’t get. One night I was listening to his game on the radio.During one inning, the announcers were commenting on how he hadn’t thrown a pitch over 75 mph that whole inning. The next inning, they described how he struck out a hitter on three straight inside fastballs. It’s almost like he knows what the hitter is trying to do before the hitter knows it himself.
 
Jamie gives up slightly more hits than innings pitched. He’s averaged around 2.5 walks a game. That means, for Jamie, in a typical nine-inning game, over eleven guys are going to get on base. That should translate to a lot of runs given up and more losses. Runners get on first and third with one out, and the next hitter hits a routine double play ball to the middle of the diamond to end the threat. Guys are hitting a ton of, what would be sacrifice flies, against Jamie. The trouble is, they only hit them when no runner is on third. Hitters attempt to move runners into scoring position against him, but end up either getting jammed or reaching out and hitting a weak ground ball or pop up without advancing the runner.
 
He wins. It looks like magic.
 
But is it really magic or is he just trying to deceive us? Jamie admits, “It’s not that easy.” Every time he pitches, it’s like David with his slingshot against Goliath. It’s hard work mentally and physically to get hitters out consistently without an overpowering fastball. Charlie Hough, the old knuckle ball pitcher, said it best when he emphatically exclaimed, “I throw just as hard as Nolan Ryan. The ball just doesn’t get there as fast.” Even though Charlie was trying to be funny, the point is well taken that it takes the same kind of effort and work ethic for a control pitcher to be successful as it does for an overpowering pitcher.
 
Jamie Moyer works hard to make things look like magic on the baseball field and off.
He disciplines himself physically and mentally. He has great work ethic. He learned it from his parents. They are now in their seventies and still work, even though they could retire. They taught him to have a passion to succeed, to work hard, that nothing comes easy, and that nothing is given to you. He works hard physically to enable himself to throw his various pitches where he wants them.
 
It’s also no accident that he can read hitters. He keeps what he calls, “a little book” on the hitters. He doesn’t keep a lot of information in the book. He just keeps tendencies that help him read what the hitter will do against him in different situations. Once he takes the mound, he is in his own zone of concentration. All of his preparation allows him to recognize what the hitter is expecting and give him something else.
 
It’s that way in Jamie’s life, too. He gives you the unexpected from someone so successful. He and his wife Karen have formed the Moyer Foundation benefiting children’s charities. I expected to hear him talk about all the kids he has helped. He pointed out to me that, “when you see those kids go through that fight and through that battle, (for life), it really puts throwing balls and strikes, getting strike-outs, getting double-plays and giving up home runs in the right perspective.” You get the feeling he is benefiting more than the kids. This is a man with great respect for both baseball and life.
 
Jamie Moyer is forty years old. He’s not ready to retire. He’s having too much fun deceiving hitters. I asked him how he would like to be remembered. He said he would like people to remember him as a good teammate, respectful of the game, others and himself, that he used what talent he had, and that he put in a good day’s work.
 
No problem! He’s a class act and it’s not magic.
 
June 16, 2003, updated June 25, 2007
By Geoff Zahn Former Head Baseball Coach University of Michigan and 12 Year Major League Veteran Pitcher