The Twist of Oliver

Oliver Perez, the Post Gazette observed yesterday, is neither a puzzle nor a riddle because both have an answer. And the Buccin' Ear must concur, there is no answer to Perez, a frequent subject during the short duration of this blog. Who is Oliver Perez? Kris Kristofferson might provide the best answer: "He's a walking contradiction/partly truth and partly fiction/Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home."

During Perez's relatively brief career, he has displayed flashes of brilliance along with a maddening inability to focus. I recall seeing him three or four years ago pitching at Coors Field when he was with the Padres. It was a hot Sunday afternoon, and the game was awful if you had a rooting interest in the Rockies because the relatively unknown lefthander completely dominated the game. Perez struck out 13 in six or seven innings en route to a win, and my interest in him was piqued.

I saw the other side of Perez early the following year after he struck out Jose Hernandez (not much of a feat), who was beginning a brief tenure with the Rockies. Perez showed Hernandez up, brandishing a mock pair of six-shooters after recording the whiff. Hernandez took revenge the next time up, going deep on Perez and making a point of letting him know he didn't care for the youngster's antics.

This, to me, is the essence of Perez: he rides emotion, and the result can be, for the fan, his teammates and his manager, exhilirating or infuriating. One never knows which character is going to show up on any given night, and that maddening inconsistency, as we all know, is on the verge of costing him a spot in the rotation.

Perez is reminiscent of another mercurial Pirates pitcher, Jose DeLeon, who flashed across the sky briefly in the early- to mid-80s. DeLeon, a Dominican righthander, raised hopes in 1983, when after debuting in July at the age of 22, he went 7-3 in 15 starts, striking out 118 in 108 innings and recording an ERA of 2.83. He had electric stuff and fans (including this one) eagerly looked forward to 1984.

Unfortunately, DeLeon was never able to fulfill his potential, at least as a Pirate. He slipped to 7-13 and saw his ERA rise by nearly a run in '84. His strikeout-to-walk ratio, about 2.5-1 in '83, was 1.5-1 in '84. In '85, already discussed here as one of the worst in Pirates history, DeLeon had a year that was hard to comprehend. He went an astounding 2-19, remarkably bad even for a team that won only 56 games all year. To put it in perspective, he accounted for less than 3% of the team's wins and more than 18% of its losses. His ERA rose another run and again was plagued by wildness, walking about five per nine innings.

Sound familiar? One promising year followed by a seemingly inexplicable collapse? Like Perez, DeLeon's stuff consistently drew raves. And although he posted a couple of good years later with the Cardinals, in 1990, he recorded a second 19-loss season, and his career essentially was over, his promise never fulfilled. Will Perez suffer the same fate?

We can hope not, of course. But the Buccin' Ear is reminded of one of the pet peeves of his late father, who often wondered why certain commentators would remark that losing pitchers "have great stuff but need to harness it." Well, the old man would say, "If his stuff is so great, how come he can't get anybody out?"

The question is rhetorical, but it suggests the answer: the stuff may look great, but if the pitcher can't control it consistently, he's going to get hit. And, of course, the real point is, if the stuff can't be controlled, it's not really all that great, is it?

The time has come, the Pirates coaching staff seems to be saying, to stop talking about how great Perez's stuff is and see if he can get somebody out, not for one or two games, but for the rest of the year.