Catchers know squat ...

Red Sox Magazine, First Edition, 2004 | By Garry Brown

 

...and alot more: it's a grueling job full of ups and downs - coping with the heat, foul tips and jarring crashes while massaging egos, calling a game and contributing offensively - but someone has to do it.

 

Warning: The first part of this story could be hazardous to your knees, ankles and back. Pregnant women and those with health concerns should not participate without a physician's consent. The SPORTING NEWS assumes no responsibility for any aches, pains, pulls or strains.

 

Bend down into a crouch. Stand up. Now, bend down again. Hold that position. Stand up. Bend down. Hold it. Stand up, bend down, stand up. Got the drill? Now do it 109 times. That's how frequently, in an early-June game against the Cardinals, Astros catcher Brad Ausmus got in and out of his crouch. Those 109 squats came in just eight innings and included 11 during Jim Edmonds' fourth-inning at-bat and 37 in St. Louis' 4-run fifth. Ouch.

 

At least the game-time temperature that night was 79 degrees. To fully appreciate what it's like to live the life of a catcher, try that little interactive exercise when it's 96 and humid. And, for good measure, put on a ski vest, some kneepads and a wool hat. And have your broadest-shouldered buddy fling some low pitches your way. Or run over you.

 

The thing about catching is that while the physical pain dulls the body, the mind must stay sharp. Failing to get in sync with a pitcher can ruin a game shortly after it starts, and waggling one wrong finger in the ninth can waste an entire night's work. The SPORTING NEWS asked current catchers Ausmus, Mike Lieberthal of the Phillies and Jason Varitek of the Red Sox--and former defensive standouts Mike Scioscia (13 seasons as a Dodgers catcher and now manager of the Angels) and Tim McCarver (two decades as a big-league catcher and now FOX Sports' lead baseball analyst)--about the specific demands of baseball's most demanding position.

 

100 degrees of perspiration: How do you handle it?

 

Lieberthal: When you are in St. Louis, Atlanta, it gets unbearably hot--or in Philly when we had the turf. I couldn't imagine playing full time in Florida, when it's almost always scorching. When it's hot, I'm constantly weighing myself. That's the hardest thing for me, to keep the weight on during the summertime. I'm constantly taking protein shakes, making sure I eat. There have been a few times when I got lightheaded during a game. We have ammonia water, and the trainers will spray that on you to try and keep you alert, like they do with a boxer when they put those sticks under his nose.

 

Varitek: You've got to hydrate the night after a game. You've got to make sure you replenish what you lost that day. (My weight) can fluctuate probably 10 pounds after a game.

 

Ausmus: I have a little sweat pad in my mask, by my forehead. Every once in a while, I have to squeeze it to get all of the liquid out of it. So, other than sweating profusely, no, the heat doesn't bother me.

 

My wounded knees: What's it like to crouch for a living?

 

Lieberthal: That's my least favorite part, the squatting, especially since I've had a couple of knee surgeries. My knees get sore, and I get swelling. It takes a few weeks into each offseason before I feel normal, but once I start squatting again at spring training, I'll feel the pain. Even with normal things, like getting in a car, I'll feel it.

 

McCarver: The crouching really gets to you later in life, when you have ankle and knee problems. Nobody fully understands what a catcher goes through, unless you are in that uniform and see the punishment. Catchers are reluctant sometimes to talk about this because they don't want to come across as a bunch of bleeding hearts. But the punishment is real; it's not arguable.

 

Ausmus: In Detroit, in 2000, I caught like 145 games (150, including 140 starts). By the end of the season, anytime I had to climb stairs, my legs would throb--in my thighs, in my quads--with each step. I don't lift weights with my legs during the season; they get enough of a workout.

 

Foul tips, collisions and 58-foot splitters: Where's the Advil?

 

Lieberthal: (showing a discolored circle on his right biceps, courtesy of a foul tip): You get one of these every few games. The ones off your fingers are the worst. And the ones where I really get drilled off the facemask, I'll wake up with a stiff neck. The ones off the shoulder are kind of like getting hit by a pitch when you're batting.


I had one collision in the minors where I hurt my knee. One with Bernie Williams messed my ankle up for a month. Carlos Delgado flipped over me, and that hurt my pelvis. Adam Dunn, last year. It's not like you can chicken out. You just have to take the blow. When you catch the ball, you try and relax to try and soften the blow, but that's not easy to do.

 

Ausmus: My most memorable collision came in rookie ball. There was a man on third, a big guy, who was tagging up on a fly ball. This was when I used to still throw my mask away on a play at the plate, and this guy just crushes me. I go flying, get knocked off the dirt circle, into the grass. I never even had the ball. I get up, try and shake it off. I get in my crouch, signal a fastball and I'm thinking, "Something's wrong here." As the pitcher goes into his motion, I jump up and yell, "Timeout! Timeout!" I had not put my mask back on. The pitcher didn't notice, no one did. One foul tip, and that could have been it for me.

 

Varitek: I got crunched in Double-A. In the 14th inning, there was a do-or-die play at plate, and I had to stay in there, and I got absolutely hammered. It bent in my mask, but I hung on to the ball. I saw the field like this (tilting his head) for the next two innings.

 

Scioscia: Chili Davis hit me in 1987 when he was with the Giants. He just absolutely crushed me. I football, but I think when you take a hit at home plate from someone running at full speed, and you're stationary, you're just hung out to dry.I think, as a catcher, you're always dealing with some form of discomfort. And you're probably going to be dealing with some bigger injuries at some point. I've had two surgeries on each knee. Both shoulders are thrashed. As for throwing, my right shoulder is pretty thrashed.

 

Drop the mitt, it's time to hit: How do you keep a healthy average?

 

McCarver: How in the world can you put up numbers like an outfielder or a shortstop to appease the Hall of Fame voters? It seems to me the punishment catchers take isn't taken into consideration. But there's no question it drives down the offensive output. For instance, let's say you are catching Roger Clemens. By your third or fourth at-bat, your hand has taken a pounding. You are catching Clemens with your left hand, and then when you bat, assuming you're righthanded, your bottom hand can't close fully around the bat handle. It's hard to drive the ball when you are leading with your top hand.


When you catch 130 games and produce (offensively), a guy like Jorge Posada or Jason Varitek, their worth to a team is so dramatic. Guys in Boston just love Varitek. There's a real admiration for what he does. But even after a while, I think people still take it for granted. But I never take it for granted.

 

Ausmus: In that third or fourth at-bat of a game, your legs feel softer, and it's harder to step in and really dive into the ball.

 

Lieberthal: As long as I stay strong and eat right, I should be able to make it six months, get to September still feeling strong. The nice thing about catching is that if you're good defensively, you really don't have to hit. If you're playing first base or right field and you're hitting .200, you're worried about your job. It's a luxury to know that if you're not hitting, you're still OK. That's how important defense is.

 

It's all in your mind: How do you scout an opponent, call a game and do the little things?

 

Lieberthal: With computers, you can load the video of the opponent's last few games, each player's last few at-bats. You can just click it up in seconds with whomever you want to scout. You also get the written scouting reports, and an hour or two before the game, I go up to that night's pitcher, and we come up with a rough game plan on how we'll approach each hitter, at least for the first time around, rather than me thinking one thing and him thinking something else, and we start the game with a bunch of shakes.
The first time through, you can get an idea of what might be working, what might not be working. But you have to be careful because sometimes what isn't working the first time through is clicking the second time, so you can't just abandon pitches.Calling the game, the chess match part of it, that's my favorite part. When a pitcher gains confidence in a catcher, he's less likely to shake him off, question what he's doing in key situations. They respect the knowledge that we have built. You have to make sure you are working up and down, in and out, to keep giving hitters different looks.

 

Varitek: If we're calling a good game and we pitch well, we probably have a 95 percent chance of winning that game. You have to have field awareness--know what's going on in the game situation, who's pitching, who's hitting, the count, hitters' strengths and weaknesses--then you have to add them all up quickly and come up with a decision.

 

Scioscia: That's the biggest influence a catcher will have on the game--the 140 to 150 pitches he will call. What you get the most satisfaction from is calling the type of game that brings out the best in the pitcher because if you do that the team has a chance to win.


One of the biggest components to a championship-caliber club is the pitching. And the most vital component to pitching is the pitcher-catcher relationship--the execution of pitches, the pitch selection, the theory behind what a pitcher's best stuff is.

 

McCarver: The biggest problem with catchers today is many of them are monotypes. By that, I mean that they catch every pitcher the same. Pitchers are different. Some are short; some are tall. Some throw hard; some throw soft. Some have good changeups; others have good curveballs. Catchers have to process all of that and adapt to each pitcher to try and get the most out of him each time out. If a guy is a low-ball hitter and a pitcher is a low-ball pitcher, it's foolish to change and start throwing high fastballs. A catcher knowing the strengths and weaknesses of a hitter actually is way down the list of what is important in calling a game. You don't adapt to a hitter as much as you do to a pitcher.


There's that cliche that the silent things that a catcher does don't show up in a box score. Bull. They do show up. They show up in a pitchers' line every night--in him being more effective or less effective than he could be. Brad Ausmus probably is the quintessential example of someone who calls a good game. His game is silent. Pitchers appreciate throwing to him--all of them do. Some pitchers say that just to pump up their catchers, but they mean it with Ausmus.

 

Ausmus: In addition to advanced scouting reports--the "human intelligence of baseball"--there is so much more statistical information than ever before. You can use all of that info to some degree, but there can be a paralysis of overanalysis. With the scouting reports, I do a bullet-point outline of strengths and weaknesses of every hitter, then we review them as a pitching and catching staff. But you have to keep it simple. You can say a hitter likes this, doesn't like this, but you don't need to attach a number or stat onto everything.


Once you get into a game and you see something that contradicts the scouting report, you go with your gut. Always trust yourself before a scouting report. The scouting report and the statistical analysis may say some guy is a good fastball hitter on the inner half of the plate, and generally he may be, but maybe he's struggling and his swing has gotten a little long. You throw a pitch and see how he goes after it, and you say, "Geez, he can't catch up with an inside fastball with that swing." So we'll go against a scouting report based on what we see in the game.

 

Lieberthal: It also helps if you frame pitches well. The guys who frame well have soft hands, like an infielder's, so when they catch the ball, they can bring it in a little without an umpire noticing the glove moving. Because if an umpire sees that glove jerk even a little, you are less likely to get the call.


As for the running game, there aren't that many great basestealers now, but each team has at least a couple of guys who will go. There's only a couple of really good ones where you know you have to make a perfect throw to get them. I get more of an adrenaline rush when it's (Florida's) Juan Pierre than anyone else. Pierre is the toughest to throw out.

 

Staff psychologist: How do you keep 11 heads on straight?

 

Lieberthal: Some pitchers are quieter than others, especially on game days. Some guys respond better to criticism. Others guys need to be pumped up, constantly be told to stay positive, that things will work out. With young guys, you always have to calm them down, slow them down. Like (the Phillies') Brett Myers---he might give up a hit or walk, and he gets too geared up. He wants to get the outs over with so quickly that he loses his control. I'll go out there and tell him to calm down, stay down, slow down.Other times, you might talk more about the situation instead of what the pitcher is doing wrong. Let's say a guy throws four straight balls, all of them high. By going out there and talking about the next hitter or a scouting report, it can make him think less about those four balls that he just threw because if he's thinking about those, he might try and overcompensate and end up throwing one in the dirt--or right down the middle.


You also might go out there when things are going good. One game, Roberto Hernandez had just struck out someone and he had the next guy 1-2. The scouting report on that guy was that he'll swing at a lot of balls. So I went out to tell him that he didn't have to make his next pitch too good--that this guy probably will chase.

 

Varitek: There's not a typical mound visit. Sometimes it's just to break the rhythm of a bad rhythm.

 

Ausmus: Pitchers have to trust you--trust that you know the hitters and trust that you'll call a good game and control the running game; trust that you'll block balls in the dirt. Second, they have to know you care how they do. You shouldn't be overly concerned with stats, but they need to know you care that they have a low ERA and you don't want to give up a meaningless run.

 

McCarver: I remember when I was a junior in high school and I was getting scouted by Bill Dickey. He gave me a list of things a catcher must do. One of the first things on that list was to be a pitcher's best friend. A lot of the things that are involved with being someone's friend--being diplomatic in certain situations, standing up to them at other times when the situation calls for that--are also involved in the relationship between a pitcher and a catcher.

 

The tools of excellence

A major league scout's view of which catchers are best at specific skills:

Hitting: Mike Piazza, Mets. "The best-hitting catcher in the American League is between Jorge Posada (Yankees) and Ivan Rodriguez (Tigers). But Piazza is the best of all three. He has the power, and he's a good hitter on top of it. Rodriguez is probably better than Posada. Rodriguez uses the whole field and gets really good at-bats with the game on the line."

 

Throwing: Rodriguez. "He uses his arm as a weapon. Brian Schneider throws well for Montreal. So do Raul Chavez, the backup for Houston, Miguel Olivo with the White Sox and Kevin Cash with the Blue Jays."

 

Blocking pitches in dirt: Mike Matheny, Cardinals, and Jason Varitek, Red Sox. "It's their technique. Rodriguez should be the best. but he's not. He reaches for a lot of balls. Matheny is the best I've ever seen. He's like a hockey goalie with his ability to control a ball in the dirt. There's a difference between blocking a ball and having it go 10 feet in front of you and having it right there. He keeps it at a reachable distance. That's his real strength. He just collapses on the ball. He smothers pitches."

 

Framing pitches: Matheny and Brad Ausmus, Astros. "The key to framing pitches is subtle movement--keeping the ball centered. The best I ever saw was Bob Boone (former Phillies and Angels standout). He leaned but never really moved. He caught the ball deep in the center of the body all the time. Ausmus moves real late; he's very quiet--as opposed to guys who get out there real quick. A lot of catchers get real wide on breaking balls. Your ability to maintain your stance and lean a little bit is important so you don't give away location to the runner at second base. Some guys open up so much, the batboy can tell when a breaking ball is coming."

 

Calling a game: Matheny, Ausmus, Varitek. "The key is understanding your pitchers. You've got to look to see when a hitter changes his approach in the box; what does he do in a pitcher's count; when he opens and closes up: when he starts to guess. When a guy knows what he's doing back there, it takes the pressure off the pitcher. Calling pitches is a lost art. So much is dictated from the bench. It hampers a catcher's ability to call a game. He doesn't gain the experience he needs. There's no better guy to call a game than the one behind the plate. Look at the schools these guys went to (Matheny attended Michigan, Ausmus went to Dartmouth and Varitek to Georgia Tech). They work at it. They work to get better."

 

Toughness: Varitek and Gary Bennett, Brewers. "This entails a lot. Being able to come back from getting hit by pitches, blocking the plate, which is another lost art. Bennett is one of the toughest guys I've ever seen. I saw him get completely run over and plowed under when he was the Phillies, and he held on to the ball for the out."--Ken Rosenthal

 

Can't we just get along?

The best way for a player to get noticed is to get in an umpire's face, kicking, screaming and spitting. It's also the worst way for him to be heard. No one is more aware of that than a catcher--he knows the umpires best, considering he spends roughly an hour and a half each game in the same small piece of real estate.

 

And though it's a common belief that the relationship between player and umpire is built on animosity, Phillies catcher Mike Lieberthal says it's simply not true.

 

"I try to be friends with all umpires," Lieberthal says. "They are good guys, and I think you can have a good relationship with all of them if you are honest with them. They are receptive to hearing your complaints if you do it the right way and don't complain after every pitch, if I think an umpire has missed a pitch; I'll wait a pitch or two before I say something, just to let the moment settle down."

 

Umpires, because of the close proximity, get to experience the different communication styles of catchers.

 

"Bob Boone, you could never hear a word he said," says retired Dave Phillips, who was a major league umpire for 32 years. "He wore an old-style mask and mumbled when he was catching. So I just said, 'Yes, Bob' all the time. But then there was Thurman Munson. He habitually talked to everyone, umpires, hitters, whomever. One time, the Yankees were playing the Royals, and (George) Brett finally said to Munson: 'The barbecue is great in Kansas City. No, I haven't gotten married. My golf game is terrible. Now just let me hit.'"

 

The biggest interaction between catcher and umpire, of course, is the establishment of the strike zone each game.

 

"There's no way around it," says Angels manager Mike Scioscia. "You find a way to maybe find out where a pitch was--how they're interpreting the strike zone."

 

There are disagreements regularly--"I have to defend my pitchers when they need it," says Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek--but the key is to keep them diplomatic.

 

"It depends on how how they ask where a pitch was," says Phillips. "If they say, 'A little low, Dave?', well, they'll get a much different reaction than if they say, 'Damn it, where was that pitch?' Asking is one thing, but telling is another. Most catchers are smart enough to realize that."