Why do closers carry the highest of expectations?

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Anyone watching the pressure packed games of the postseason knows how important a bullpen is today, especially the back end of the pen–through the Royals 2-1 win over the O’s on October 15 a record-setting 14 postseason games were decided by one run– but just how good should a pitcher be to be considered a standout closer? How high should our expectations be? Start with a study done not too long ago which revealed that about 95% of the times a team holds a lead entering the ninth inning the result is a victory for that team. In theory then, and ideally, any reliever going into the final frame with a lead should be able to nail it down and earn an easy (or relatively easy) save.

Well, it’s not quite that simple— the study which came up with that percentage focused on teams having a lead of any amount of runs. Naturally, if a team is leading by a wide margin entering the ninth, the win would be easy to secure and, a reliever who wraps things up in such situations can’t even earn a save. So, exactly how difficult is an elite closer’s job, and how often should he earn saves in order to justify his exalted status?

First of all, expecting a reliever who does come into a contest in a save situation to be able to slam the door seems not to be asking too much. It’s not like the closer always comes in and has to face the meat of the order. Further, by the very nature of baseball—for example, there’s the irrefutable fact that even great hitters make an out around 70% of the time—getting, say, three outs before blowing a lead should not be that difficult.

It seems to me that a reliever should be successful somewhere around 85%, and, in fact, one study I came across says that historically speaking teams do win right about 85% of the games in which they carry a one-run lead into the ninth inning. So an 80% success rate for a closer may seem impressive to some people, but it is actually substandard.

Also, it’s a lot easier for a reliever, going all out, working just one inning, never having to face the same batter twice, to end the year with a lower ERA than most starters. With that in mind, I hold relievers, especially those considered to be either very solid or great closers to a high standard. Furthermore, to attain the lofty status of an elite closer, I expect to see a save rate of close to 90% or better.

In 2014 those special pitchers, the “lights out” type, included Huston Street of the Padres with a major-league leading save percentage of 96. The next best rates came from Cincinnati’s Aroldis Chapman with his sizzling stuff (95.8) and Greg Holland, the Royals star, (94.7).

So, guys like Rafael Soriano with his slate of 32 saves out of 39 save opportunities in 2014 doesn’t overly impress me.  Jake Petricka of the White Sox had a worse save percentage (77.8), and Houston’s Chad Qualls (76) had the worst save percentage among all of the closers listed on the MLB website. That list of 30 closers included nine men at 90% or better, 19 in the 80% bracket, and just two with a percentage in the 70s.

Even though some of the 30 pitchers possessed far from stellar stats, it remains true that those men did, in fact, earn their job for one reason or another. Some clubs seem content (or they have to be content) with relievers who successfully save games at, say, an 80% rate. Maybe, based on that kind of a low expectations the closer job isn’t all that difficult.

That gets back to the debate of could virtually any pitcher become an effective closer? Based on what seems to be the going definition of “effective” (rather than by my more rigid standards), the answer seems to be:  not every single pitcher, but more pitchers than one might think. The assertion here is that the job of closer, while admittedly is a tough and important one, is not quite as difficult as many would believe.

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The current rules state a pitcher can earn a save if he does the following things: 1) he finishes the game which his team wins 2) He either a) enters a game with a lead of not more than three runs and he pitches for at least one inning or b) he enters a game with the potential tying run on base, at the plate, or on deck, regardless of the score. He may also get a save if he works three or more innings and the official scorer feels he deserves a save.

Therefore, unless I’m construing things incorrectly here, a reliever could, in fact, get a save in a contest in which he pitched horribly. Say he entered with two outs in the ninth with a three-run lead, and one man on base. He then serves up a home run, inflating the ERA of the previous pitcher, and the next hitter rips a ball which screams its way into the right field corner then bounces away from the outfielder. The batter-runner tries to stretch his sure triple into an inside-the-park homer only to be thrown out at the plate. The pitcher did nothing at all to help his team hold the lead— only the skill of his defense saved his neck.

That’s effective pitching, worthy of a save? He basically caused his own big mess then got rewarded with a save. And there have been even worse examples of poor pitching which still resulted in a save (keep reading).

Before the 1974 season the original save rule which went into effect in 1969 was revised. Starting in 1974 a pitcher had to face either the potential tying or winning run already on base or at the plate when he came into the game and he had to preserve the lead. Clearly that rule, without the “on deck” condition, made getting a save a more difficult task than what the current rule calls for.

Going back to 1969, the rule of the day basically called for the reliever to hold the lead which he inherited and cling to that lead through game’s end. Again, that rule was much tougher than what exists today.

Nevertheless, even under the 1974 rules some horrible pitching performances still earned saves. For instance, on June 6, 1973, Cleveland fell to Minnesota, 13-9. In that affair Dave Goltz was awarded a save even though he gave up eight earned runs on 13 hits, including four homers over his three-inning stint. He entered the game with his Twins up, 9-1, and proceeded to give up two runs in the seventh, two in the eighth, and four in the final inning, with every run coming on homers.

I don’t foresee any more revisions to the current save rule, but I do think it is not demanding enough. Cheap saves cheapen the closers’ craft. Study a pitcher’s stats carefully before hailing him as a true closer.

Certainly, though, we should still give credit and lavish praise on those men such as Mariano Rivera and Trevor Hoffman who year in and year out excelled at this job. Such men usually argue that closing is not for everyone, and they mention the physical and mental make up of men who do succeed as closers. They cite the blood vessels which flow with ice water as a necessity to handle the pressured packed job they have, and they preach that not everyone has the confidence, composure, and, again, the sheer guts it takes to face, say, the heart of a potent team’s lineup with a game on the line.

There is something to be said about the “closer’s mentality.” In the old days when the term fireman was widely used, closers were (and a handful today still are) figuratively like firefighters. On a much, much lower level of heroics, and on a ridiculously lower level of danger than firefighters face, great relievers go into a burning situation when others want to flee.

So, yes, acknowledge the greats, but don’t be fooled by the closers whose overblown stats fall short of the truly special ones.