Podres was special in many ways
Posted: Tuesday, January 15, 2008 4:12 PM
I was stunned by the news of the passing of Johnny Podres. He was mentioned in this space last week for his Game 7 World Series shutout in 1955, one of the two greatest games ever pitched (along with Jack Morris’ 1991 Game 7).
Pod, as all in the game knew him, never equaled as a player that great afternoon in New York -- the day he made a franchise legitimate by ending the Dodgers’ subservience to the Yankees. But he made his mark for years afterwards as a pitching coach. That’s how I came to know Pod, first in his stint with Minnesota in the mid-1980s. He taught his signature changeup to a young lefty named Frank Viola and it made Viola a standout. Pod was gone by the time Viola helped the Twins to a World Series title and won a Cy Young, but Viola never forgot the man who taught him.
Nor do the Phillies pitchers from their 1993 NL pennant-winning team forget the man who mentored them. Manager Jim Fregosi gave his pitchers to Pod and the results were startling. He took a veteran righty, Curt Schilling, and helped him reach his long-awaited promise. He took a talented but erratic lefty in David West and made him a valued reliever. Mitch Williams was another story; I never could get Pod to talk much about Wild Thing.
And that’s what made Pod a special man. I never could get him to talk much about 1955. As a child of Brooklyn fans, I heard legendary tales of the game that ended a borough’s agony. As a young Mets fan, I remember seeing a fading veteran hanging on with the expansion Padres, only to have my dad explain to me the story of Pod’s heroics 14 years earlier.
But he was a modest man who lived in the moment. What 1955 became for Pod was a moment in a history book, and although its importance to others was something he understood and appreciated, it was not something he wore on his sleeve.
That lesson from Pod is one I have never forgotten. It is easy to see those who live off one moment in sports, those who take their moment and sell and promote themselves for a lifetime. Pod could have lived off 1955 forever in New York, but he moved on in life and passed on the gift of his changeup to willing students. He was proud yet humble, an increasingly rare combination in sports.
And when I heard the sad news of his passing, that’s the first thought that flooded my mind. And since Pod couldn’t teach a young voice the changeup, I hope he knows he taught me well in another way.
