The Eck effect
A rare bad night and the comment that became baseball vernacular
Have you heard the one about…
…the Hall of Fame closer whose description of his own misery became ingrained in the fabric of the game?
On July 29, 1988, the Oakland Athletics and Seattle Mariners were tied 2-2 heading to the 10th inning at the Kingdome.
In the top half, Oakland scratched across a run on a Ron Hassey RBI single.
A 3-2 lead, and the A’s were 3 outs from victory. Which meant it was time for Dennis Eckersley.
At 33, Eckersley was in the middle of a career rebirth. For 13 seasons, he had been a starter—in Cleveland, Boston and on the North Side of Chicago. Now, under manager Tony La Russa, he was evolving into the first modern one-inning, 3-out closer.
Over the next 5 years, he would dominate in a way the role had never quite seen—with unsurpassed precision, control and efficiency. A 1.90 ERA over that 5-year run. A 10-1 strikeout-to-walk ratio that read like a typo. He was virtually automatic.
Death, taxes and Eck in the 9th.
But not on that late-July night in Seattle in 1988.
Harold Reynolds opened the bottom of the 10th with a single, and the door was cracked ajar.
But after 2 quick outs, that crack seemed to be narrowing.
Then Alvin Davis singled, sending Reynolds to third. And on an 0-1 pitch, Steve “Bye Bye” Balboni launched a 3-run home run to right field.
Ballgame. Mariners 5, A’s 3.
Afterward, addressing the media in front of his locker in a somber Athletics clubhouse, Eckersley was left to pick up the pieces of a rare defeat stolen from the jaws of victory.
