Pitcher Bob Welch Dies at 57

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Imagine being 21 years old, a rookie pitcher playing for the Los Angeles Dodgers, and you're in the World Series against the New York Yankees.

That was the situation in which Bob Welch found himself on the night of Wednesday, Oct. 11, 1978, when he came in to close out a 4–3 victory for Los Angeles. Starter Burt Hooton had gone six innings and staked the Dodgers to a one–run lead when he left; then reliever Terry Forster pitched 2⅓ solid innings but left after serving up a single and a walk in the ninth.

In came Welch.

In front of more than 55,000 fans in Dodger Stadium — and millions more watching on TV — Welch nailed down the save. He got Thurman Munson to fly out to right, then won an epic showdown with future Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson. Jackson had driven in all of the Yankees' runs that night, and he came to the plate with two outs and runners at first and second.

This was at the time, it should be noted, that Jackson was gaining his reputation as "Mister October." A year earlier, he hit three consecutive home runs to lift the Yankees to their World Series–clinching triumph over those same Dodgers and won the series MVP in the process.

He could have evened the game with a well–hit ball, but the young Welch gunned him down. Jackson struck out swinging, and Welch had preserved the victory for the Dodgers.

Los Angeles would lose the next four games — and the Series — to the Yankees.

The Dodgers ended up trading Welch to Oakland following the 1987 season. The A's faced the Dodgers in the World Series in 1988, and Welch pitched in the only game Oakland won. He didn't get the win — another ex–Dodger, Rick Honeycutt, got the win in relief after Mark McGwire hit a one–out home run in the eighth.

A couple of years later, Welch won the Cy Young Award. He won 27 games that year and remains the last pitcher to win 25 games or more in a single season.

Welch died yesterday at the age of 57. At this point, his cause of death remains undisclosed.

No Triple Crown. Again.

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Once again, horse racing enthusiasts were disappointed by the Belmont.

It's frustrating, this 36–year drought — the longest dry spell ever since the last Triple Crown winner. If you're 40 years old, you weren't even in grade school yet when Affirmed claimed the last Triple Crown — you probably had not even been born when Secretariat ended a then–record 25–year drought in the Triple Crown.

It's so frustrating that Steve Coburn, owner of California Chrome, the latest Triple Crown hopeful to falter in the Belmont, called the owner and trainer of the winner (Tonalist) "cowards" for not running their horse in all three Triple Crown races, as he had done.

That's been an issue with the Triple Crown for a long time. To win the Triple Crown, a horse must win three races in three different states within five weeks' time. The winner of the Kentucky Derby is not compelled to run in the Preakness two weeks later. And, if a horse wins both of those races, he is not compelled to run in the Belmont, either.

But the lure of the Triple Crown almost always brings 'em.

I wouldn't call myself an expert on horse racing, but there are a few things I know, mostly from trying to fall back on my training as a journalist and listening to what others (most of whom are experts) have to say — and most trainers say they prefer to give a horse five weeks (at least) between races. Usually, they will lean more toward six or seven weeks.

Three races in five weeks is an unbelievably grueling pace in horse racing. If that is still hard for you to understand, look at it this way.

We live in an age of sports specialization. In my father's day, there were lots of guys who played both offense and defense in football; I don't know if I can recall such a two–way player in my lifetime. Maybe there has been one, possibly two, probably born more of necessity than of skill.

When I was a boy, it wasn't unusual for pitchers to go the distance in baseball. There were a couple of relievers on most staffs in case the starter really got into trouble. Now, teams have staffs of relievers who have been trained to come in and give an inning or two before giving the ball to the closer. If a starter goes longer than six innings, he's probably pitching a no–hitter — and most likely will be yanked the minute a player from the other team gets on base.

Asking a horse to run in — and win — three races in 35 days is like asking a pitcher to throw three complete games in the space of a week.

That's why winning a Triple Crown is such an impressive accomplishment. Well, it is part of the reason.

The other part is what we saw on Saturday.

The Belmont is longer than either the Kentucky Derby (1¼ miles) or the Preakness (1 3/16 miles). The first two races are much shorter than the Belmont (1½ miles), which is justifiably called the "Test of the Champion." To win the first two races, a horse must possess speed. To win the Belmont, a horse must possess endurance.

Few horses possess both. It takes a special horse to win a Triple Crown. Only 11 horses have done it since 1875, the first year that all three races were run.

Secretariat was the greatest horse I ever saw, but there were those who questioned whether he could win a long race like the Belmont. His answer was a 31–length victory. Now that is a horse that combines speed and endurance.

Some people say a Triple Crown can't be won again. I say it can. I just can't say when.

Coburn has apologized for his outburst.

And he was right — to an extent. It isn't fair that a rested horse like Tonalist (or Commissioner, the second–place finisher) can run against a horse that has run in the Derby and the Preakness — but it happens nearly every year.

For that matter, Coburn didn't have to enter California Chrome in the Preakness and the Belmont, but he did. That was his choice.

That was his gamble — and it didn't pay off.

If you've ever placed a bet at a race track that didn't pay off, you might know how he felt — except that he didn't lose a mere $2 wager. He lost what may be his only chance to win a Triple Crown.

I understand that he felt it was unfair that Tonalist was able to get the rest Coburn's trainer believes is essential for a horse to give his best performance — while California Chrome was running not one but two races.

But that is the special challenge of the Triple Crown, isn't it? Most horses can't do it.

On the Eve of History?

It is the night before the Belmont.

California Chrome apparently is still scheduled to run for a Triple Crown tomorrow — unlike the last horse to win the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness, I'll Have Another, yanked at the last minute, to the frustration of horse racing fans.

I'll admit it. I would like to see a Triple Crown winner — not the way some folks do, the ones who say they want to see one more Triple Crown winner before they die, but because I think it would be good for horse racing. And I like horse racing.

Forty years ago, the great Secretariat ended a 25–year Triple Crown drought. He breathed new life into his sport, and there were two more Triple Crown winners (and nearly a third) before the decade ended. The drought is much longer this time, and California Chrome is the 13th horse to win the first two jewels of the Triple Crown since Affirmed won the last Triple Crown in 1978.

It has been noted often that attendance at America's tracks has been declining for years — and suggested that even a Triple Crown winner won't be enough to bring those patrons back. The longer fans stay away, the harder it is to bring them back. It isn't impossible, as baseball demonstrated after a strike wiped out the 1994 World Series, but it is difficult to achieve.

Maybe too much time has passed. That happens in sports — and in life. There are windows of opportunity; when they slam shut, it is awfully difficult to open them again. Baseball was fortunate to have two charismatic players, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, dueling to set a single–season home run record in 1998. Their battle brought fans back to the ballparks, but attendance had been down in the years since the strike.

I have often wondered if baseball had reached a critical point when the McGwire–Sosa home run race captured the public's imagination. If the McGwire–Sosa duel had not materialized, would baseball have remained America's pastime?

Team sports are different from individual sports, though, and a horse is, after all, an animal, not a person who may be able to use his charisma to get back in the public's good graces. Animals have no real charisma — at least none of which they are aware, just the charisma that is generated by a picture or video.

I don't know if winning a Triple Crown can reverse horse racing's fortunes. I get the feeling, though, that, with California Chrome, I have seen this before, and I really expect to see the same kind of outcome tomorrow as we have seen nearly a dozen times since 1978.

This is how it generally seems to play out. A horse wins the Kentucky Derby (OK, that happens every year; nothing special about that, right?), but there are doubts about the horse that persist until he wins the Preakness two weeks later. Most of the time, the Preakness win is convincing enough that the questions about the horse disappear, and momentum for the two–time winner starts to build.

The horse looks great in training and is greeted with lots of hesitant–yet–hopeful hype when he arrives in New York. Now, that kind of attention has been known to turn many an athlete's head. But an animal doesn't have human emotions and can't feel the pressure of high expectations. As time passes, the conventional wisdom becomes the horse is a lock to win. Confidence begets overconfidence; overconfidence begets a belief that it will be different this time.

But it never is.

There are all kinds of ways for this to happen. I thought I had seen them all — until I'll Have Another was pulled out the day before the Belmont in 2012. When that happened, I figured that I hadn't seen them all.

It could be a repeat of something we've seen before. Smarty Jones faded in the stretch in 2004. War Emblem broke badly in 2002 and never recovered. In 1998, Real Quiet looked like he would win it, then lost at the wire. Big Brown, so dominating in the first two races in 2008, was eased out of the money in the third.

Or it might be something new — or, at least, something we have not seen in a long time.

So, in spite of all the enthusiasm about California Chrome, put me down as skeptical.

Perhaps I am wrong. Frankly, I hope I am. It would be nice to see a Triple Crown winner. And I am sincere when I say it would be good for horse racing. I do believe that.

Well, we'll find out in 24 hours.

By the way, if you're looking for something to kill some time between now and post time, USA Today reprinted a Belmont Stakes horse name generator that apparently originated in the Reno Gazette–Journal.

Give it whirl. My Belmont Stakes horse's name was Reno Prince.