Scott Erickson was the twenty-three-year-old right-hander who provided perhaps the only highlight of the previous September with five wins. Kelly was often wary of September performances against inflated rosters and deflated teams, but Erickson's half-season earned run average of 2.87 secured him a starting spot for 1991.
Instead of searching for "breathing bodies" to fill out a rotation, the Twins had Mark Guthrie and David West, both regular starters in 1990, locked in a battle for the fifth spot. Guthrie entered the race as a favorite after pitching into the seventh inning in 14 of his last 15 starts in 1990. But West had pleased management by pitching winter ball in Puerto Rico, being chosen Most Valuable Player of that league's play-offs.
As Kelly assessed the starters, he had no concerns about Morris or Tapani. Morris brought an unwavering work ethic that eased his assimilation into the team. "Jack was the first player at the park every morning," Wiesner said. "He even beat the manager which is quite a feat. But you could see the example he set for the pitching staff by how hard he worked." Kelly loved the eagerness that Morris brought to the often-monotonous spring drills. "He was always the first one to jump on the mound for a drill because he wanted to do it right and get something out of it. I never had to worry about handling a 'big shot' because he worked his tail off." The road was not quite so smooth for Scott Erickson, who provided Kelly his only real challenge of the spring. This was Enckson's first spring training in a major league camp, and he brought with him his own methods of preparation for the season. Erickson's successes at other levels had thus far sustained his independence, but this was the maj or leagues, and the Twins had not shared Erickson's success. "Scott had his way of doing things, we had ours, and he was going to follow ours," Kelly said. "What Scott had done in 1990 was great for him, but we were last. Now people are watching the players and the players watch each other and if they see someone operate in his own carefree way saying 'I'll be OK,' that's not good enough, because we finished last and I can't play that game. Scott's way was probably good for him and it would probably work, but I couldn't be sure because I had never seen him in the spring. The decision became, 'You're going to do it my way because I'm the boss."'
Erickson pitched well in his first spring outing, and to Kelly's mind, may have settled into a state of complacency. His next several starts were poor, so Kelly chose a pregame exercise session for a calculated explosion.
"Pat Mahomes, one of our prospects, came over from the minor league camp for a day and parked next to Scott during workouts," Kelly said. "Things got much too relaxed for both of them, so I told Mahomes, 'Son, this is no vacation day. You came here to work!' Sometimes, my job is to scream and I got a dual effect here with both Mahomes and Erickson. You can't be afraid to make somebody an example."
Kelly never felt any lasting ill-effects from the outburst with Erickson, and the pair kept a running dialogue open through the spring. What Kelly saw was a young pitcher with the capability of winning many games if he approached his job in the proper manner. Regardless, spring training ended well for Erickson who would start the season's third game in Oakland.
SCOTT ERICKSON
"We had a lot of spring training meetings about good starts. And Scott was the one pitcher who took tremendous stuff to the mound in the first inning."Tom Kelly
On a humid July afternoon in 1990, rookie Scott Erickson settled into the Twins' bullpen to watch a twi-night doubleheader unfold between his new team and the Baltimore Orioles. His major league career had begun just three weeks earlier, and Erickson was a spot starter and long reliever as play resumed following the AU-Star break. Tom Kelly knew little about the tall right-hander who was just 12 months removed from the University of Arizona, other than his best weapon was a sinking fastball that moved so dramatically Erickson himself often had no idea where it would go.
Kevin Tapani was Minnesota's starter in the first game of the doubleheader. The second Baltimore batter, Joe Orsulak, hit a line drive that ricocheted off Tapani's night shin, forcing his removal from the game. Kelly called upon Erickson to enter with no warning,, and the unusual circumstances affected his control. In four-and-two-thirds innings, he walked six Oriole batters allowing j List One run. Toronto SCOLIT Gordon Lakey visited the press box and told the Minnesota media to watch "any pitcher with stuff good enough to survive six waits." It was a notable performance lost amidst a late-inning Oriole win, but Erickson showed the ability to make the one pitch necessary to retire a batter. By September of 1990, Erickson's indoctrination to the big leagues, usually a cautious process for Twins pitchers, was accelerated. He won five games in the final month of the season, and impressed Kelly enough to earn a spot in the 1991 rotation. When spring arrived, however, a "meeting of the minds" was needed. Kelly felt Erickson needed to understand one point. This was the major leagues, and after finishing last in 1990 Kelly felt everyone had to follow the same program. Once Kelly communicated that point to his pitcher, the two established a good rapport. Erickson adopted a more serious approach to his preparation, and he showed he was ready for the season by pitching seven innings of three-hit baseball in his final spring start.
"He was fabulous in his first two regular season starts, " Kelly said. "He pitched well enough to win if we had scored any runs." Kelly and pitching coach Dick Such saw a trend developing in those two losses that would render meaningless the issue of run-scoring while Erickson was pitching. The radar gun readings showed Erickson consistently breaking 90 mph with his fastball. "Scott came to us as an 84 mile-per-hour pitcher," Kelly said. "That's where he was in 1990 and spring training this year. But on Opening Day, he started hitting 90-91 (mph) on the gun. Now a 17-year-old could mature physically and make that jump. But by 22 or 23 [Enckson's age], you are what you're going to be. More knowledge of pitching and added confidence doesn't get you from 84 to 91."
The movement of Enckson's pitches made him difficult to hit. Toss in an extra seven rules per hour and he became absolutely nasty. Rarely does a pitcher make major league hitters look helpless, but Erickson was on the verge of reaching that level of Pitching. He shut out Seattle on five hits on April 26, then drew the Boston Red Sox in his next two starts.
Boston's lineup was regarded as the American League's best for pure hitters. Boston didn't beat you with speed or with power, but with one good major league hitter after another. Jack Clark's power had been added to a lineup that led the American League in runs in 1990. What Erickson did to Wade Boggs, Jody Peed, Mike Greenwell, Ellis Burks, Jack Clark, Tom Brunansky, and company in the space of one week was extraordinary.
On May 1, Erickson held Boston to a sixth-inning single by Jody Reed and a seventh-inning double by Tom Brunansky, but saw his teammates equally stymied by Red Sox right-hander Greg Harris. In his fifth start, Erickson faced the possibility of his team being shut out for the third time. The Twins finally scored when Dan Gladden homered in the eighth off reliever Jeff Gray. With the comfort of a one-run lead, Erickson carefully retired Reed, Greenwell, and Clark in the ninth. Only four Boston batters had reached base, and remarkably, just two fly balls had been hit, both by left-handed batters. For the Twins, it was a win of immediate importance, raising their record to within one game of.500, yet the long-term implications were even stronger. The Twins now had a pitcher fully capable of dominating a game. The Twins' second meeting with the Red Sox was May 7 at Fenway Park. Erickson received a run when Minnesota's first three batters, Gladden, Knoblauch, and Puckett, singled off Harris. Through eight innings that one run would have been sufficient, since Erickson held Boston scoreless. By the ninth inning, though, the Twins lead had grown to 9-0. The Red Sox looked as futile at the plate as they had 17th innings earlier, and the only suspense left was the safety of several Twins' club pitching records. No Twin had ever pitched three consecutive shutouts, and Erickson needed just two outs to surpass Frank- Viola's record of 30.1 consecutive scoreless innings. Ellis Burks started the ninth with a single and Clark followed with a chopped grounder to the left side of the infield. Scott Leius, who entered the game at third base in the eighth inning, had the only play and in h' haste bobbled the ball for an error. Greenwell advanced the runners with an infield ground out, and Brunansky smashed a three-run home run into the netting atop the left-field wall to spoil the shutout.
As Brunansky circled the bases, there was a telling sight on the mound. The Twins still led 9-3 and Erickson had lost his shutout legitimately on a wickedly hit line drive. None of that provided any solace to Erickson, who stalked the area behind the mound in obvious anger. He later said the lost chance to set records was not the source of his displeasure, but rather just one very bad pitch to Brunansky. Erickson's performance that night demonstrated a personal drive that was equal to the intensity of his pitching.
In the space of six days, 23-year-old Scott Erickson had twice rendered a fine lineup helpless. "Any time you do that in back-to-back games, it's the best accomplishment a pitcher can have," Kelly said. "The same batters just saw you for three or four at-bats the last game, and to stop them again you in I just have awesome stuff."
It was very apparent to all that Erickson qualified on that count. He had won just four games, but his style left a trail of praise from opposing batters. "He had a sinker and a slider working that were devastating pitches," Kelly remembered. "Some guys have one pitch of that caliber, some pitch in the big leagues without any, but you just don't see guys with two pitches like that at the same time." The net effect left right-handed batters feeling inept. Left-handed batters hit Erickson for a decent average but little power, as his sinking action prevented most batters from lifting the ball. The incredible force of Erickson's pitches was felt most by right-handers who were prone to the deadly sinking fastball-slider combination. During Erickson's run, a right-hander felt lucky to make solid contact once in a game.
Erickson extended his winning streak to six with a pair of wins over Detroit, allowing just one run in 13.1 innings. The second Tiger game was memorable, as it was the first game in which Erickson was judged to have pitched below his new "standard." In six-and-one-third innings, he walked five, hit a batter, and allowed six hits. Outstanding catches by center fielder Puckett and left fielder Gladden prevented big innings, while Erickson continued to show his ability to make a key pitch when he needed an out as Detroit left 11 runners on base against the Twins' starter.
Erickson faced Texas next, a team he defeated twice as a rookie. The Texas team that came to Minnesota in late May, though, was an offensive terror. The Rangers had won nine consecutive games, including the first two games against the Twins, scoring at least five runs in each game. As Kelly remembered, "It wasn't just their big guys hitting, but everyone in their lineup was smoking line drives." The contagious Texas hitting even overcame Erickson. He allowed two home runs in a game for just the second time in his career, and in seven innings gave up 10 hits and five runs. The Twins scored enough to send the game to extra innings, allowing Erickson to escape with a no-decision and his winning streak intact. Ironically, the authority with which Texas hit made the events of the next week even more astounding.
When the Twins arrived in Texas on Memorial Day, the Rangers' streak was at 13 wins. The state (whose sports interests were once prioritized by University of Texas sports information director Jones Ramsey as "football and spring football") was actually gripped by the early stages of baseball fever. Lines unseen in Arlington Stadium history formed all day for tickets to this series. The Twins were not the attraction. To the contrary, they were losing ground to .500 at 20-23 and were heading on a road trip to Texas and Kansas City, two places where they rarely played well.
The Rangers added to the festive atmosphere at their home park by winning their 14th straight in the series opener by a score of 11-4, the Twins' seventh loss in the last eight games. All the gains of the past month, recovering from a 2-9 start, were in Jeopardy. There had been two days at over .500 in mid-May, and with Erickson dominating teams and Morris recovered from his shaky beginnings, Kelly had hopes for a winning streak that could put the Twins in contention. Instead, the team needed desperately to break a free fall.
In the clubhouse after the first game in Texas, Erickson, who was due to start the next night, did his best Joe Namath impersonation. "He walked past me just after the game," Kelly remembered. "He came night up and said, 'Don't worry, their streak's over tomorrow night."' Erickson was 11 months old when Namath made a similar boast at Super Bowl III. Although the events did not compare in magnitude, the Twins were learning that, like Namath, Enckson's self-confidence played a large part in his success. "It's a cocky thing to say," Kelly admitted. "But there's nothing wrong with. Some of that if it's under control. When it came time to put up or shut up, Scotty put up." Erickson ended the Rangers' streak and returned to his May dominance. He pitched eight innings, allowed no runs, and gave up seven hits and three walks. All of Texas' hits were singles, and baseball's top scoring team had only one runner reach third base. Erickson silenced a lineup that had rolled over American League pitchers every day for two weeks. More importantly, he stopped the very same lineup that hit him only five days before.
"It was just like his win over Boston in proving how tremendous his stuff was," Kelly said. "To shut out a team that is hitting everybody and had just hit him in our own park is remarkable." An intriguing sidelight to the game involved Kelly's handling of a delicate first-inning situation. Dan Gladden started the game with a home run, and after the next two batters reached base, Kent Hrbek faced starter Jose Guzman. The count went to 3-1 when Guzman threw a pitch that appeared to clearly miss the outside corner of home plate. Umpire Jim McKean saw it differently and his opinion mattered. The pitch was called a strike and Hrbek, who had spent10 years earning areputation for a good eye, complained. Those who wonder why batters question umpires' calls were provided an answer. On the next pitch Guzman, seeing McKean expand the outside corner on 3-1, threw his full-count pitch to the same spot. Hrbek, armed with the knowledge that McKean had established a wide strike zone, knew he must swing at the pitch even if he felt it was outside. As a result, the left-handed batter hit a perfect double-play ground hall to the shortstop.
Hrbek was irate. As he returned to the dugout, he directed a string of comments at McKean. One struck McKean the wrong way, and he thrust out his right arm to eject Hrbek. Kelly came running to the plate, not to argue with McKean but to reason. "I told Jim that we had our best pitcher going tonight, he's been on a great streak, and I didn't want anything to screw up the game. Now the pitch to Hrbek was terrible, but after that Jim had a good game" The incident reveals much about Kelly's pragmatism. Nothing could bring Hrbek back to the game, so Kelly, who has been ejected only twice as a Twins' manager, insured that Erickson's night would not be ruined by lingering problems with the home plate umpire.
Not only was Erickson dominating teams (in four of his 10 starts he had not allowed a run), but he was able to maintain his newfound velocity from game to game. More importantly, said Kelly, "He was still throwing 90 with movement in the seventh and eighth innings." The Twins admired Bret Saberhagen for his ability to throw as hard in the ninth inning as he did in the first. It was a joy to speak about one of their own pitchers in the same way.
There was no question that the Twins took some extra pride in Erickson. He was a product of Terry Ryan's scouting system who had been drafted three times by major league teams and never signed. There were no college scholarship offers at the Erickson home in Sunnyvale, California, after Scott went 3-6 as a high school senior. Bypassing the Mets, who had drafted him in the 36th round, Erickson went to San Jose City College and on to the University of Arizona where he blossomed with a school record 18 wins. At six feet four inches and 225 pounds, many scouts expected a harder thrower, but Ryan and scout Clair Rierson loved the movement on his pitches, and the Twins drafted Scott in the fourth round of the 1989 draft.
Erickson won three games at Class A-Visalia in 1989, eight in Orlando in 1990, and suddenly became a major leaguer. He arrived quickly without fanfare, but that had changed by June of 1991. According to Erickson, his velocity jump in 1991 was the result of him abandoning his college routine of lifting weights between starts. Kelly had a different opinion. "We were worried that this great run just couldn't last," Kelly said. "He couldn't keep extending himself to the max every time. He was so jacked up to pitch, that's how he hit 90 on the gun. [Dick] Suchie kept saying 'I don't know how long this is going to last, but he was in such good shape that we thought he could last the first half."
Conditioning was no problem for Erickson. Although Kelly did not appreciate Enckson's approach to team exercises in spring training, the pitcher did his work. He was in many ways a pitcher for the '90s, young and strapping with a body toned by weight lifting. He struck a fearless pose on the mound, holding his black glove over his nose and mouth, allowing only his eyes to show. After just the equivalent of one full season, he had the respect of the entire American League. "It happened very quickly," Kelly admitted. "People saw his ball moving all over the place and realized this was an awesome display. Our players were impressed by the way he kept pitching early when we didn't score any runs. Eventually, the players saw he was for real, and the day he pitches becomes score a couple of runs, win this, and get out of here.' Scott and [Kevin] Tapani both hung in when there were few runs. But, once Jack got squared away, the players had a good feeling about our staff."
Erickson's win in Texas started a flood of media attention. Suddenly, Erickson was being "labeled," as writers groped for new angles. His undeniable good looks and eligibility as one of the few single Twins players gained Erickson a spot in the gossip columns, leading to at least one unpleasant media experience. The label that most bothered Kelly was "maverick," which appeared in the headline of a Star Tribune feature on Erickson. He did like to wear black, and he did wear his stirrups low, and he did polish his shoes black before each start, but to Kelly, those were idiosyncrasies and superstitions that existed in varying forms for all players. There were no "mavericks" on the Twins, and Kelly was not going to let the media create one.
"We had put the spring incident far behind us," Kelly said. "But one writer kept bringing it up, well into June. Scott told me he was trying to get the writer off this track, but the writer wouldn't leave him alone. We helped Scott with things to say to divert the questions, and he did well." Kelly and media relations manager Rob Antony devised a structure that served Erickson well over the ensuing month. Erickson gave as many inter-views as possible the day after he pitched, freeing the remaining days between starts for his preparation. This was a delicate period for the Twins' balance in the clubhouse. There were no stars, and the acknowledged heavyweights of the team were always careful to deflect praise onto underpublicized teammates. Very few on this team had experienced the spotlight Erickson was under.
"We kept an eye on him," Kelly said. "You must remember, our players are not the types to be jealous of someone's success. And if I was planning behind someone winging it up to the plate like he was, I'd be ecstatic because it gives my team a better chance to win. Scotty handled the attention well. He gave credit to the other players, and I tipped him to little things like getting on the bus after a win and telling the guys 'way to pick me up.' The biggest thing was that he's a good guy and the players were happy for him."
Indeed, the Twins realized Erickson could be their fastest ticket out of last place. He had a tremendous impact on fellow starter Kevin Tapani, who could continue his consistent pitching in his quiet manner, and on the bullpen, which could rely on a nice break every fifth game. This sounded suspiciously similar to the help Jack Morris was to have provided the team, and most Twins felt it was not sheer coincidence that Morris followed Erickson's gem in Texas with a four-hit victory over Nolan Ryan the next night. The May 28-29 games were a pair .hat Kelly would look back on later in the season and recognize as crucial to the team's rise.
May ended with Erickson posting a 1.36 earned run average and capturing the league's Pitcher of the Month award. A new month changed nothing, as Erickson beat Kansas City 4-1 on June 2. The pitching line had become frighteningly routine: eight-and one-third innings, five hits allowed, a career-high eight strikeouts, and just one walk. It was the third winning start in which Erickson had walked only one batter, remarkable even the way his pitches moved. One of Erickson's strengths was his "effective wildness," something Kelly hoped for in all starters. The concept was simple. The more fear in the hitter, the more effective the pitcher. "Scotty proved how important it is for hitters to move their feet once in a while," Kelly recalled. "A pitcher has a much better chance when he keeps the hitter from being able to look for a ball in a particular zone. Scotty was just wild enough to keep hitters from sitting on the outside part of the plate." Erickson won his next two starts at home, his ninth and 10th consecutive wins, with Lenny Webster as his catcher. Junior Ortiz had developed a good working relationship with Erickson, and although Kelly dislikes the label, Ortiz had become Erickson's catcher. "We think Brian Harper is a five-days-a-week catcher, and since junior had more experience at the position, we'd have him work with Scotty whose ball moves so much," Kelly said. "It's not that Harp couldn't catch him. It just seemed like this system worked well for everyone." Ortiz turned an ankle running the bases in the win at Kansas City and landed on the disabled Est. Webster returned, as Kelly knew he would, but he came back under less than ideal circumstances. "He hadn't hit well at Portland," Kelly said. "That's the one thing about Lenny that we can't understand." Yet Webster continued to perform well for Kelly and caught Erickson twice with no problems.
Erickson was creating the kind of streak that was reserved for only the game's greatest pitchers. At 23, he was catapulting himself into baseball's highest strata. With a winning streak at double figures and a microscopic earned run average, talk of the All-Star Game was natural. He was already halfway to 20 wins, a goal more difficult to attain in an era when pitchers make no more than 35 starts. Erickson made it look so easy. "During the first half, he did some pitching, he threw breaking balls on 3-2 counts," Kelly recalled. "But think of it this way. [Boston's Roger] Clemens and [Texas's Nolan] Ryan throw consistently 90 to 91 and they can throw the ball just about anywhere and get away with it. Mix in Scott's movement and he's devastating. How could the hitter have any idea how his pitch will move?"
One at bat in June highlighted Kelly's point. The Twins were in Baltimore and the game was delayed by rain for two hours, after the starters had begun their warm-ups. This was a new experience for Erickson, and one of the most disliked by players. When the game finally began, Erickson received two runs from the offense in the top of the first. Mike Devereaux was the Orioles' leadoff batter and he doubled. Brady Anderson grounded to second with Devereaux advancing to third. Cal Ripken was up next, and he brought to the plate a league-leading .361 average. The Orioles' shortstop had been the league's best hitter in the first two months, and, in addition, had always found a way to damage the Twins. Veteran Twins watchers fully expected Ripken to bring home the runner. Erickson knew little about baseball's past, though, and admitted he had not even been a true baseball fan in his youth. He did, however, attend San Francisco Giants games at Candlestick Park where he once met a young outfielder named Chili Davis. Half a continent away, Davis and Erickson now shared a rented house as teammates. Erickson was facing Baltimore for the first time in 1991, and Rjpken quickly received a firsthand look at the talk of the American League. A flurry of sinkers and nasty sliders sent Ripken away after three futile swings. Erickson faced over 800 batters in 1991 but this was one of the handful of at-bats with a meaning beyond one game. The new arrival to baseball's elite met a charter member of that club, and won the first battle. Despite the implications and impact of this at bat, Erickson had already set a standard so high that Kelly had some difficulty remembering it six months later.
The Baltimore game would be Erickson's 11th consecutive win, and Ripken's strikeout kept alive another amazing record. In 31 major league starts, he had not allowed a first-inning eamed run. After the agony of watching repeated first-inning deficits for the past two years, Kelly finally saw a pitcher who would give his hitters a chance to score the first run. "We had a lot of spring training meetings about good starts," Kelly recollected. "And Scott was the one pitcher who took tremendous stuff to the mound in the first inning- In the seemingly never-ending litany of Erickson's achievements before the All-Star break, his record on getaway day was one more. A two-hit shutout of the Yankees on June 24 at Yankee Stadium was his third win in the last game of a road trip. The Twins were on their way to becoming a winning road team and the masterful work of Erickson, particularly in the distracting atmosphere of getaway day, was a primary reason.
As Erickson's streak reached a club-record 12 consecutive wins, few saw the warning signs of its imminent end as clearly as Kelly and Such. It was natural to think all was well, as Erickson beat the Yankees and allowed just three men on base. There was no reason to suspect that the 12-2pitchingrecordand 1.50 earned run average would disintegrate. That is, nothing other than the knowledge gained only from years of experience that told the manager and pitching coach that the fantasy would indeed have to end.
It happened on June 29 at the Metrodome. The Twins took a 3-2 lead over Chicago into the seventh. Erickson was not dominant, but had pitched well. Two ground ball double plays had helped him, but there were no indications of a big inning. In the seventh inning Chicago exploded. Five of the first six batters reached base and the White Sox finished off against Steve Bedrosian for a five-run inning. "I sat there knowing this could be a big inning, and thinking that I should go get him out because he's done," Kelly admitted. "But I had to give him a chance because of the winning streak. I remember Suchie saying, 'We're going to have to ride this out and let it go!... It went all right, to the White Sox by an 8-4 score.
Erickson's streak was over, and so was his arm. Kelly first noticed it when Erickson delayed his scheduled turn to throw in the bullpen before his next start in Toronto. "He kept saying, 'I'll go tomorrow' which is a warning sign that you have problems," 'd Kelly. The trainers and doctors thought he should be on the DL [disabled list] so the best thing to do was to shut him down." Another easy decision for Kelly proved difficult for the pitcher to accept. Erickson said he wanted to continue pitching through the soreness in his forearm, so he could make his anticipated start in the All-Star Game. For selfish reasons, too, the Twins wanted to display their "homegrown" talent before the large media forum and television audience at the All-Star Game. Showing off Erickson, however, became secondary to his health and the team's welfare. Kelly also knew that if Scott was disabled for 15 days, he would @just one regular season start. By July 1, Kelly knew the Twins had a chance at contending in the second half, so he could not afford to risk a long-term injury to Erickson. "Young players get their sights set on honors like the All-Star Game," Kelly explained. "But I was thinking about the World Series. It was the big picture that Scott needed to see, that the World Series far outweighs any All-Star appearence."