Tug McGraw: American Swashbuckler

We are in the midst of the cold and lonely baseball offseason, my friends. Times are getting tough. Baseball is not being played. We must distract ourselves in order to avoid this grim reality. First, there were the newly branded Miami Marlins, eager to fill the void. That was pretty fun, what with the uniforms and garish aquarium and free agent chaos and whatnot. Yu Darvish provided a bit of excitement for a while. Most recently, we have Prince Fielder and Scott Boras to thank for the brief respite from our wanting. All too brief, I’d say. It’s times like these when I sometimes look to the past for sustenance, and it’s in the past where we are able to discover and reimagine one Frank Edwin McGraw Jr. Or, if you like, Tug.

Tug McGraw was born in 1944 and was named after his father. The McGraw’s were a familiy found of nicknames, it seems, and Frank Edwin McGraw Sr. went by “Big Mac.” It’s widely known today that Tug came about his own nickname because of a certain overeagerness exhibited by the young McGraw during breastfeeding. This kind of creation myth is what makes Tug so ridiculously entertaining and is but one of many charming anecdotes ascribed to his credit. Let’s get to the baseball before I have to research his awkward teenage years.

As a relief pitcher, Tug spent an astonishing nineteen years in the Major Leagues, pitching for the New York Mets and Philadelphia Phillies. He was twice an All-Star and won two World Series Championships with a decade between them. He recorded the final out of the 1980 World Series, bringing the Phillies their first baseball championship. Performance wise, Tug was pretty up and down. His ERA and WAR totals fluctuate wildly from season-to-season. Baseball-Reference and Fangraphs disagree with how much credit to give him for some of his more successful and home run suppressed seasons, crediting him with 20.4 and 9.5 WAR respectively. All told, his career 6.59 K/9 shows a guy who could miss some bats, and a cumulative ERA+ of 117 paints the portrait of an above average, serviceable relief pitcher.

That’s Tug McGraw the baseball player. Tug McGraw the man is decidedly more compelling. The guy could really turn a phrase, something us baseball nerds find particularly amiable. His catchphrase “Ya Gotta Believe” is very notable and famous. Asked once how he was going to spend his baseball earnings, Tug wisely said, “”Ninety percent I’ll spend on good times, women and Irish whiskey. The other 10 percent I’ll probably waste.” I don’t think I need to close read that statement in order for it’s full affect to be realized, and I believe it goes without saying that his affinity for Jameson is something any self-respecting drinker would admire (he called it Uncle John). He was also known to give his pitches names like Peggy Lee, Bo Derek, the Cutty Sark, and the Titanic, each with an explanation and story to boot. He may have once replied “I don’t know, I never smoked AstroTurf!” when asked which type of surface he preferred to play on. The internet can’t seem to decide if that one was really from Tug or if Joe Namath said it, but the fact that the confusion exists is still rather telling. Not content with simply being a compelling player interview, after his retirement Tug went on to report on sports and zany nonsense for the local ABC affiliate in Philadelphia. Considering the all of the above, I don’t suppose this comes as a surprise.

In this world, fame breeds fame, and to further cement his legend as one of baseball’s most hilariously interesting players, Tug sired none other than popular country music recording artist Tim McGraw. You might know him from CMT or the football film Friday Night Lights (be sure and watch the TV series, as well), but you’d be remiss if you were to ignore the most classic song Tug McGraw’s son ever set to tape: Don’t Take the Girl. This is a baseball blog (isn’t it?) so I won’t take up your time with a close examination of the song or its lyrics, but please believe me when I say that both are worth your time. Everything really comes full circle, and you will be amazed at the narrative complexity.

That is Tug McGraw: American Swashbuckler. He played professional baseball, he said wonderful things, he reported the news, and he raised a true country music legend. He had one hell of a life, by any measure I’m sure. Tug died in 2004, at the age of 59. He lived to see his son achieve massive success, and to be enshrined in the Philadelphia Baseball Hall of Fame. I hope on this day without our favorite pastime being actively played, his life and career were able to remind us all that baseball and its characters are pretty great. I’ve failed to mention arguably Tug’s most famous quote, because I’ve been saving it for here, for the end. It’s equal parts existential, cold-blooded and awesome, and he said it after his Mets were beat by the Oakland A’s in the 1973 World Series:

"Ten million years from now, when the sun burns out and the Earth is just a frozen snowball hurtling through space, nobody’s going to care whether or not I got this guy out."