Cecil can give Jays’ pen positive spin
A harmless-looking little stutterstep on the tag at first base. And, OWWWW-AARRGGHHH, there went Brett Cecil.
With it — that left calf muscle tear, a freakish injury late in Game 2 of the American League Division Series — went the team’s extended playoff fortunes a year ago, or so a great many Blue Jays cognoscenti still believe: the bullpen butterfly effect.
And here’s the thing about how often fate comes around to lap itself in baseball: For the Jays to secure a wild-card berth at the stubby end of this season — and to even dream on a longer playoff run — they’ll doubtless need the brilliance of Cecil, circa 2015. In lieu of Joaquin Benoit, walking-booted this week with the very same injury that drop-kicked his bullpen compatriot last September, back in a time when the surprisingly effective Benoit wasn’t even a trade twinkle in the GM’s eye. Of course, that was another GM.
Benoit’s a DL cast-off, his cast not coming off for at least two weeks — a ridiculously rosy projection when one considers that it took Cecil months and months of rehab to get healthy again and there’s still scar tissue in there that occasionally breaks off. “You stop feeling the pain a lot sooner though,” the alienlooking (on account of his geeky goggles) southpaw was saying Thursday afternoon, prior to the Jays rubber match against the ankle-biting Baltimore Orioles.
With Benoit out, set-up go-to-guy Jason Grilli scuffling and closer Roberto Osuna smacked around silly of late — Osuna had back-toback blown saves this week, while the bullpen has collectively taken it on the chin this month, blowing five of 11 save opportunities and posting a nosebleed 4.59 ERA.
All of which suddenly makes Cecil, the target of nasty booing earlier this season, a preferred option to nurse the Jays out of their accelerating bullpen jams, unless John Gibbons throws pitching limits for starters out the window.
“No, I haven’t been waiting for this opportunity,” says Cecil, who came out of spring training last year as the designated closer, lost the job, got the job back, lost it again, then put together a brilliant season from June 21 on, allowing only two runs (neither earned) through 31 2/3 innings in lights-out relief. “It’s more so I’ve been waiting for myself to come around.” He adds, wryly: “I’ve watched a lot of guys’ careers in this clubhouse and I don’t think I’ve seen one as up and down as mine.”
He means from the disaster of this April — 0-5 with three blown saves and a 5.57 ERA in 13 appearances — then six weeks on the sidelines with a torn lat muscle, his recent shininess rusting in the bullpen, a rumbling of dissent whenever Gibbons summoned him to the mound.
“I don’t want to say he doesn’t trust me. Just, he was putting me in situation where he knows I’ve been successful in the past, sticking by the baseball code — lefty versus lefty, even though I had great numbers against righties before.”
Cecil’s labours in the first half this year went south because his signature curveball — big and gorgeous and almost unhittable — went AWOL. “It’s tough for a pitcher when their secondary stuff’s not working; you’re not throwing it for strikes. Essentially (hitters) don’t have to worry about that pitch so they can just sit on fastballs.’’
Where once the curveball was unrecognizable from a fastball when it left his hand — that’s what made it so biting, a two-fingered spike curve — hitters were seeing it large earlier in the season, laying off, making honking contact instead with a high-80s cutter and 94-95 fastball. “If my curveball’s not hitting, it’s easier for them to see the ball.”
The why of it? Who knows, except that the curveball is a “feel pitch,” says Cecil, that requires many reps to instill obedience and command. So much of pitching that doesn’t rely on blazing heat is a composite of disparate factors, from mechanics to cunning to self-confidence.
“Now I throw it in for strikes. I make it look like a strike for a very long time, until the end, and then it’s a ball. Whereas before it was either way out of the zone or up spinning or I’d just spike it in the ground. Way easy to lay off.”
When the curveball is snapping, everything becomes more composed and reliable. In April, the batting average against on Cecil’s curveball was .333; in August it was .118. Entering Thursday night’s game, it was .000 for September — nobody could touch it in 7 2/3 innings pitched.
All season Gibbons has insisted the Jays need Cecil to be Cecil, by which he meant the Cecil of last summer, cornerstone of the ’pen. It would be fair to say, however, that Gibbons got Cecil-shy, crushing instead on Rule 5 pick-up Joe Biagini and really digging Grilli before the 39-year-old got tattooed sideways.
The manager’s faith in Cecil has apparently been restored incrementally, at first avoiding highleverage situations, staying within the lefty-lefty wheelhouse and the sub-inning appearance. “You need to get a certain number of clean outings, clean appearances,” says Cecil about earning credibility and a full inning’s work, which Toronto will need of him down the stretch and beyond. “Not necessarily in a row but you need to get a handful of them just to get some confidence back.
“For the most part, (Gibbons) has been putting me in situations that he feels I’m 100 per cent comfortable in and I can more than likely succeed at it. So that when we get to the end of the season, get to the playoffs, he knows that I have confidence in myself.”
Wednesday night, Gibbons turned to Cecil with two on, one out in the seventh, Jays up 2-0, a righty in the on-deck circle, a righty in the hole. He struck out Nolan Riemold swinging and induced a groundball out from Adam Jones, mixing up curves and sinkers. That was Cecil ’15 redux. For Jays to avoid ’16 reflux, they’ll probably be wanting more of that guy.