Commentary: Aardsma finally finds rhythm in majors
In 2003, Rice reached Shangri- La. The Owls brought home the 2003 NCAA baseball championship, showcasing the unreal pitching of the most talented trifecta college baseball has ever seen. The Big Three - Wade Townsend, Jeff Niemann and Philip Humber - catapulted Rice onto the national scene with their unabashed talent and unashamed verve. Everything they touched, every horsehide-and-stitched ball they burned by hitters, was gold.
Six years later, Rice's prized triumvirate has been cut down to size. Yes, Niemann's having a solid season with the Rays, but his 3.87 ERA is not nearly enough to make up for Townsend and Humber finding themselves exiled from the bigs.
The Big Three are now dust, their gold turned to lead. Which means that the torch of Rice's 2003 championship is now placed in the hands of David Aardsma.
Wait, who? Can't blame you for not remembering the name, I guess. He was the closer that year, the one with the tapering chin and the sparkling, Mr. Clean, rub-my-head-and-get-three-wishes noggin. You know, the guy who set Rice's record for single-season and career saves?
Bah. Figures you don't remember him. I didn't. He didn't get the acclaim of the Big Three, didn't get the bright lights, didn't get the covers of Baseball America. Just did his job, placated Wayne Graham, won a championship and hitched a ride into the majors.
Aardsma was the No. 1 draft pick by San Francisco in 2003, but his career began with more busts than the Louvre. The Giants scrapped him. The Cubs canned him. And after a groin pull squelched a stellar start to 2008 - 3.06 ERA in 35.1 innings - the Red Sox decided that the former Owl wasn't worth their trouble.
Four years into a career, and all he had to show for it was replacing Hank Aaron as first on the alphabetical ballplayer list. He was in the throes of burning out, another arm washed away once out of the Rice system. Another middle reliever without an out pitch.
His career was shot. Designated for assignment by the Red Sox, Aardsma was a 29-year-old without a future.
Then waddled in the Mariners, a team in transition, looking for a healthy arm to plug any of the numerous holes left by the former regime. My Mariners, the team that had broken my heart more often than all the episodes of Scrubs combined. They plucked Aardsma from the dregs of the Sox, signed him for only $30,000 more than the minimum and stowed him in the bullpen.
Seven months later, and look at him now. 28 saves. Closer's role. Helping lead a wild card chase, helping provide a breath of life on a team that's been without one for nearly a decade. Searing his 95 MPH fastball past the Rodriguez's and the Guerrero's and the Mauer's.
Of course, it wasn't just a snap-your-fingers moment that nearly (and probably should have) landed Aardsma in this year's All-Star Game. Like anything, it erupted from his fount of desire.
All he wanted was a chance. The closer's role originally belonged to a flamethrowing youngster, Brandon Morrow. But mind games bedeviled the 25-year-old, and a yo-yo trajectory - closer's role to starters spot to the minors - left the back of the bullpen wide open.
Finally, Aardsma had his shot. And he did not disappoint.
But if you ask him, he'll confuse you, wrap you in his jargon and tell you that no, he's not the closer - he's just the ninth-inning reliever.
"I'm not the closer - I'm just one of [the other relievers]," Aardsma said when I talked with him this summer. "I just happen to pitch the ninth inning. I'm doing my job - it just happens to be that they put a role on it and a number on it."
While everyone else may beg to differ, I'm more than willing to let Aardsma think what he wants. After all, this was a guy who made Graham hoot and holler and, as Aardsma said, "look like he was going to have a heart attack" when the Owls clinched over Stanford in 2003. For that, we all owe him a beer and a slap on the back.
As for the Big Three, well, they're still in Rice's lore. But don't count on Aardsma cutting them any slack just to let them get a win under their belt. "I love seeing them do well against us," Aardsma said, "as long as somehow, some way, we end up winning."
If Aardsma's closing, you can bet he'll stay true to his word. And soon enough, he may be finding Shangri-La all over again.
Casey Michel is a Brown College senior and Thresher editor in chief.
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