Nothing boring about a Biagini bullpen
It’s the brotherhood of the ’pen Zen.
Relievers spend most of the game off in their own world, segregated inside a holding enclosure usually located beyond the outfield, spitting sunflower seeds, swapping stories, waiting for the phone to ring for an inning or two or three of service. They come in to hold a lead for the closer, bridging, specializing in the right-handed or left-handed threat, sometimes sent out with, metaphorically speaking, a blindfold and a final cigarette amidst an opposition fusillade of runs and crooked score.
What do they actually do in there? We asked big Joe Biagini about the secrets of the bullpen.
“We have a rule where we can’t talk. So it’s kind of tough to learn about each other. It was my rule. That was when they locked me in the bathroom so I don’t really get to talk much.”
This, of course, is Biagini being Biagini. You never know where his skewed humour will land.
“On a serious note? I hate serious notes. We talk about anything. A lot of it is other than baseball. If you’re locked into every single possible awareness of what’s happening in the game, you kind of get burned out a bit. Every conversation is odd. I would say it’s odd if it’s not odd because there’s a lot of strange stuff going on.” Quite Zen-ish, that. “The personalities of people who make up the bullpen takes it in different directions,” he says.
In the Blue Jays’ bullpen, veteran Jason Grilli has been the alpha male, setting the tone, and that’s not likely to change when the team makes the final decisions on its relief cadre composition for 2017. Grilli is also the primary storyteller, “off-therecord” content, says Biagini. “But pretty much everybody has a story about somebody. It’s fun to tap into that knowledge.”
Sometimes they play word games. Sometimes they discuss their favourite Bible verses. “We spend so much time sitting there together. You’re going to go crazy if you don’t come up with something. I describe it as, there’s so much going on and so little going on at the same time. With so little happening, there’s so much happening.’’ More Zen-ny. Low arm on the totem pole has to carry the “candy bag’’— a backpack stuffed with munchies and drinks for the crew. Biagini, the Rule 5 pickup who exceeded all expectations with Toronto last year, is no longer the bag man.
There was discussion at the start of spring that Biagini, a starter until he arrived in Toronto, would be stretched out as possible rotation depth. Though he “started” in Tuesday’s loss to Boston, giving up two unearned runs, the Jays seem to have cooled to the idea. Manager John Gibbons prefers Biagini out of the bullpen as a reliable right-handed reliever; he had a 3.06 ERA in 60 appearances in his rookie campaign.
With his eccentric personality and deadpan Steve Wright delivery (that’s the stand-up comic, not the knuckleballer), Biagini has certainly lightened proceedings around the clubhouse. When camp opened, he went around the locker room kissing teammates’ hands and told Marco Estrada how nice he smelled.
But now, especially after an offseason appearance on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, the 26year-old admits to feeling some pressure to be flake-funny, particularly when reporters sidle up.
“I think that it comes pretty naturally to me . . . But not everything I say is funny or smart or not regretted. The thing is, I never was a big fan of clichés. It’s more fun to me this way and it passes the time. It helps me get through the day when I come up with a more creative way of expressing myself.”
He’s still refining his technique as quoteworthy observer of life. “As I mature, I will learn more of the subtleties of it. I’m still developing my perspective on the world. I feel like sometimes I can be annoying. I try to add something that makes people laugh but I don’t want to overdo it.”
It’s a growing-up process, just like pitching. “You’re always learning, trying to gain more wisdom, trying to get the most out of this experience in every aspect.”
The no-kidding Biagini is the guy who attends chapel and Bible classes many mornings at spring training.
It’s a subject he’s cautious about discussing. “I came to it basically because my parents were Christians. But it became kind of a struggle for a long time after that, to make it my own and make it legitimate to me. I didn’t want to be doing it for the wrong reasons.
“I believe that God, if he really is the Creator of the whole universe, probably has the best idea of what I should be doing with my life. So I try and fail and try and fail again and try and fail again to cultivate my perspective as an eternal perspective, as one that aligns with the mindset and viewpoint I believe is right.’’
In a baseball context: “I think every day that I’m missing so many opportunities to learn even more than I think I am now, because of the breadth of wisdom and experience here. Who gets to do this? Who gets to have their perspective shaped by the experience of playing majorleague baseball? Not a lot of people. It’s almost like I feel a responsibility to gain as much knowledge and wisdom as I can within this framework — questions like why has God put me in this position and why not some poor Dominican kid?
“I’m going to have to struggle with that, figure it out, and try to be thankful along the way. That’s the whole deal, I guess.”
Here’s another revelation: Biagini acknowledges fear on the mound, a truth pitchers are loath to admit — that they will fail, let down the side.
“If you don’t feel scared, then it doesn’t really mean much to you. It wouldn’t feel significant, it wouldn’t feel worthwhile almost. With experience you get more comfortable . . . you know what works and what doesn’t.
“You still get nervous about executing those things. Sometimes I wish that, man, I wouldn’t get anxious at all. But if I didn’t, I would just be bored.”
And, perish the thought, boring.