Jesse Orosco: A Reliever for the Record Books

Over the 24 years 1979-2003, 6-foot-2 lefthander Jesse Orosco pitched in a record 1,252 games - all but four of them as a closer or middle reliever, for nine teams.

Jesse Orosco’s longest stints were with the New York Mets for his first eight years, and the Baltimore Orioles for five.

He is the only reliever to post three wins in a postseason series, the 1986 LCS against Houston, and had two saves in the ’86 World Series. He was 46 when he threw his last big league pitch.

One afternoon in August 1998 he relaxed in front of his locker at Oriole Park and told us his story. - Norman L. Macht

Jesse Orosco’s Early Life

I was born in Santa Barbara, California, one of eight, in the middle of the pack. My dad, Ray, was a semipro pitcher and first baseman in a fast league for over twenty years.

The Dodgers wanted to sign him when he was young, but his wife was pregnant and he didn’t want to leave her. He was a construction worker and had steady year-round work and stayed with it.

My dad taught me everything: how to pitch, catch, hit – everything. We would practice afternoons after school and when he got off work.

When I was 15 I had a chance to pitch a few innings for his team in a game. That was the greatest.

I didn’t follow major league baseball. Too busy playing it. I was in high school when my dad took me to my first game. In junior college, I played outfield and first base, rarely pitched, hit .384 but no power.

Getting Drafted

I was drafted by the Cardinals in the secondary January draft. But they didn’t offer me any money. In my second year at the JC, I became a starting pitcher and made all-conference.

Minnesota signed me and offered me a little money.

I didn’t throw hard – 82-83 – but my fastball would tail away one time and act like a slider another time. I went to a ten-day camp in Melbourne, Florida.

It was another world from Santa Barbara but I enjoyed it.  One day the manager, Fred Waters, screamed at me so hard I almost cried. I’m thinking the man just hates me.

The next day he says to me, “You get anything out of that?” 

I said, “Yeah, I better hustle my butt off and do better.”

He says, “I think you’ve got what it takes to go to the major leagues. I didn’t want you to think that everything will come easy. Don’t relax.

You’ll have to work hard. That’s why I jumped on you. I did it out of my own heart to try to push you.”

He saw the talent I had and wanted to make sure I stayed aggressive. 

Getting traded to the NY Mets

I was traded to the Mets in ’79.  Made the jump from rookie ball to the Mets by not allowing a run in six spring exhibitions.

On the last day of spring training the manager, Joe Torre, says to me, “Kid, I’ve got news for you. You’re going north with us. You made the team. Be ready.”

Opening day in Chicago it’s 17 degrees. Living in Santa Barbara where it’s 75 all year long, then spring training in Florida where it was 90, and here I am in Chicago and it’s 17.

I was so cold I was standing next to the heater in the dugout early in the game and my stirrup caught on fire and I didn’t even realize it.

Suddenly somebody yelled, “Hey!” and I looked and jumped. The sock was singed. I had to go in and change. My first day in the big leagues.

And I pitched that day. We had a good lead and they scored three runs in the ninth and Torre and Rube Walker, the bullpen coach, got me up to throw. I was all pumped up.

Fans were screaming at me, “Who the heck are you?” I had no name on my back. I only threw about five pitches and I was standing there watching what was going on and listening to the fans screaming at me.

Famed reliever Jesse Orosco

Walker says to me, “Are you ready?” I said, “Yeah.” So they sent me in to pitch to Bill Buckner with a man on second and two outs.

The wind was swirling like crazy. I got to three and two and threw a fastball and Buckner didn’t make good contact and popped it up to right field.

But the right fielder wound up catching it at the wall. I gasped. “Are all the ballparks this small?”

Afterward they called me into Torre’s office. Torre said, “What’s the story with you? You told us you were ready and you only threw four or five pitches. Don’t you know how cold it was?”

I said, “I was ready.” I was so pumped up about being in the big leagues I forgot about it being so cold.

Starter, reliever, closer

For a few years I was going back and forth, starter or reliever. They didn’t know what they wanted me to be. I never thought I was strong enough to be a starter.

In 1981 at Tidewater, I had about 10 starts. I’d go about four innings and start getting gassed. Bill Monbouquette was our pitching coach.

Come July I told him, “I can’t handle this. I’m not helping us as a starter. I’d like to go back to the bullpen. That’s going to be my best opportunity.”

Bill said, “They don’t want you to go there, Jess. They want you to be a starter.”

I said, “Tell the Mets I want to go to the bullpen. I’ll take my chances there.”

He put his job on the line for me and told the Mets what I wanted. The next day he says to me, “You’re now the closer.”

“What?”

“See? You stepped in a lot of mud. Now you got to get yourself out of it.”

From that time on I was 4-2 with 9 saves and that’s how I went to the big leagues. I was not a one-inning closer. I went into a lot of tie games in the seventh inning and pitched three or four innings.

Worked 110 innings. Had a 1.47 ERA. That’s how I got a lot of decisions.

[George Bamberger, the Orioles’ pitching coach for 10 years, became the Mets manager in 1982.]

George Bamberger made a big difference for me. He taught me how to throw a slider in kind of an unorthodox way.

He told me, “If you can develop this pitch and throw it well, it can be one of the best pitches in baseball.”

We worked on it all spring training of ’83. Broke it out when the season started and it was working wonders for me. I’m still throwing it today and it’s still effective.

The 1986 World Series

The Red Sox led the 1986 World Series, 3 games to 2, and had a 3-2 lead in the eighth inning of Game 6. Orosco got the last out in the top of the eighth.

The Mets tied it in the last of the eighth. Boston took a 5-3 lead in the tenth and came within one out of winning the Series.

The Mets tied it 5-5 and had the winning run on second when Mookie Wilson hit a ground ball that went through first baseman Bill Buckner’s legs, forcing a Game 7.

I was in the clubhouse with Keith Hernandez, Dwight Gooden and a few other guys. Our equipment manager had football helmets from different teams in his office. We called them our rally helmets.

We put them on, hoping for a rally, and when the ball went through Buckner’s legs, we started head-butting each other, screaming, “We’re going to win this thing now. They just gave it to us.”

We should have had some serious headaches that night. It was hilarious.

The Mets led Game 7, 6-3, after 7 innings.

Boston scored 2 in the top of the eighth and had the tying run on second with no outs when Mets manager Davey Johnson brought in Orosco, who retired the next three batters, stranding the runner.

In the bottom of the eighth, a Darryl Strawberry home run made it 7-5, then the Mets had men on first and second with one out when Orosco batted.

It was a bunt situation and the coach called for a fake bunt and slash away.

All the Red Sox infield was in motion covering bags and left a big hole in the middle and I got lucky and hit one through into center field making it 8-5. 

I was nervous about going out in the ninth and getting three guys out. I said to myself, “Don’t be thinking about hitting right now. You still got three guys to get out.” And I did.

I picked up a second World Series ring with the Dodgers in 1988 and alternate wearing them.

By then I was working more as a setup man and middle reliever. I made a good adjustment to it. I just wanted a role, whatever it was, putting up consistent numbers, low ERA, keeping runs off the board, low hits per inning pitched.

Bullpen antics

Bullpen occupants get a reputation for practical joking and being cut-ups and I think it’s an important part of their job.

If you go out there and sit and start thinking about your outing coming up, you really start putting a grind on yourself.

We had one guy who, from the first inning on, wouldn’t even talk in the bullpen. You could see him getting so wound up during the game, by the time his situation came up, he was tight as a drum.

When he got on the mound and made that first pitch, he felt like there were forty-five batters up there, and he was thinking about the eighth batter already.

Closers are in the middle of the antics out there. They have to have that kind of attitude and temperament to survive. They know when their time is coming up.

I like to watch the whole game and be involved in it. I also like to have fun and kid around with the other guys.

Laughing with them keeps me loose before I warm up. I’m a setup man. I know the sixth, seventh or eighth will be my time.

Along about the sixth inning, I start stretching and getting mentally involved in the game, knowing when the lefties are coming up and who I might be facing.

My goal is to pitch as long as I can.

Maybe my number 47 means I’ll pitch until I’m 47. [He retired at 46.]

The record [for most pitching appearances] has been in my mind for the last few years. My arm feels good. I haven’t lost any zip on my pitches. I’m still consistent.

I hope to break the record in Baltimore. [He did, working in 1252 games in 24 years.]