There surely must have been a support group for pitchers like Jon Matlack. Come to think of it, the original group could have been founded by the 1976 New York Mets starting rotation. Maybe it was called Pitchers without Run Support.
Matlack, Tom Seaver, Jerry Koosman, Mickey Lolich and Craig Swan — five hurlers — each pitched their heart out in 1976. On paper, no major league team was better. The Mets team ERA was the lowest in baseball (2.94). Still, the Mets finished 86-76 in third place in the National League East, 15 games behind the Philadelphia Phillies.
It took a complete game, four-hit shutout for Matlack to win his first game that season. On April 10, the Mets beat the Expos 1-0 at Shea Stadium. The only run was scored when Bud Harrelson tripled, followed by an RBI double by Felix Millan in the fourth inning. There’s your run Matlack, the rest is up to you. It was a sign of things to come for the entire Mets staff.
The team’s hitting was anemic. The Mets batted .246 as a team, with an on-base percentage of .317 and a slugging percentage of .352. The only team in the National League with a lower team batting average was Montreal (.235).
They couldn’t hit the long ball either. Dave Kingman hit 37 home runs, while John Milner (15), Ed Kranepool (10), Del Unser (5) and Joe Torre (5) combined to hit 35. Speed? Not so much. Harrelson led the Mets with nine stolen bases, while the team stole 66 total bases (worst in the NL).
Slow and powerless is no way to secure a division title, a league championship or a World Series title.
In May, Matlack shut out the Reds through 9 2/3 innings, allowing six hits. The Reds would finally score two runs in the 11th inning to win 2-0. On July 6 at the Houston Astrodome, Matlack pitched to 33 batters, allowing five hits and no runs in nine innings. The Mets lost 1-0 in the ten innings.
On August 22, he pitched a complete game six-hit shutout. The Mets scratched out one run in the seventh inning when Torre reached first on an error. Pinch runner Pepe Mangual advanced to second on a balk. Moved to third on a sacrifice and finally scored on a double by catcher Jerry Grote.
“I always felt like I was doing it by the skin of my teeth,” he said. “It wasn’t like walking out there and sailing through. I had to work for it, every pitch, every out, all the way down the line.”
Matlack’s next start against the Dodgers in New York, he pitched a three-hit complete game, but didn’t win it until the Mets scored a run in the bottom of the ninth.
Whoever said pitching wins championships didn’t live to see the 1976 New York Mets.
In Spring Training 1969, Matlack’s first camp, he debuted against the Boston Red Sox. After three innings of Seaver and three more of Nolan Ryan, Matlack took the ball. After pitching one scoreless inning, he gave up three home runs in his second inning facing major league batters.
“I came off the field, and (Gil) Hodges was the manager,” remembered Matlack. “He just shook his head and said, ‘Welcome to the big leagues kid.’”
Matlack did not get another taste of major league experience until September 1971.
Then, in the off-season, Nolan Ryan was traded to the California Angels. Matlack hoped to fill the void.
On the final weekend of Spring Training 1972, Matlack sat in front of his locker at Miller Huggins Field in St. Petersburg, counting lockers. From a distance, Hodges watched the rookie as his head bobbed and mouth moved, counting lockers and players.
“That’s right kid, you made it,” Hodges said, walking by Matlack.
“I wanted to crawl under the carpet,” Matlack said. “I was scared to death of him.”
Days later Hodges suffered a fatal heart attack on a Florida golf course.
“I was lost,” he said. “Gil was the only manager I knew at the major league level.
“He was in tune, he anticipated every possible thing that could happen. He kept you in the game. He would look down the bench during a game and ask you what the count was …”
With Hodges gone, Matlack was left in good hands. He was surrounded by Seaver, Koosman, Gary Gentry and Jim McAndrew. In the locker room Matlack was sandwiched between Koosman and Seaver.
“It was a good location to be,” he said.
“Pitching is a science and an art and Tom (Seaver) was the master,” said Matlack. “I watched him pitch a one-hitter in San Diego. He didn’t throw anything but fastballs. It was the most awesome display of sheer power and location I’ve ever seen. He was a student of the game.”
Matlack made 32 starts and pitched 244 innings his rookie season, winning 15 games. He threw eight complete games and four shutouts to win the National League Rookie of the Year honors.
“I was locked in,” he said. “I was in my own little cocoon.”
He also collected one other dubious honor his rookie year, surrendering Roberto Clemente’s 3,000th career hit and the final his of his career.
“I threw a pitch off the plate and he reached out and hit it to center,” said Matlack. “The crowd was going crazy and I didn’t know why. So I looked back at the scoreboard and it read, ‘Congratulations on 3,000 hits!’”
In 1973, Matlack had the most frightening experience of his life.
With the Mets leading 3-1 in the seventh inning at Shea Stadium, the Atlanta Braves loaded the bases and Matlack worked the count to 2-2 against Marty Perez. He was one pitch away from getting out of trouble.
The next pitch: contact. First, off Perez’ bat. Second, the ball brushed off Matlack’s glove on his left hand. Third, the ball hit Matlack’s above the left eye. The Mets pitcher spun 180 degrees before collapsing on the mound.
“I heard the crack of the bat,” he remembers. “When the ball was a few feet away I saw it. When it hit me, it was like a flashbulb going off in my face.”
Lying on the mound, Matlack recalls watching the ball roll toward the Mets dugout.
Grote rushed to Matlack’s side.
“Don’t touch anything,” he said.
Mets trainer Tom McKenna yelled for a stretcher.
“They got me into an ambulance to go to Roosevelt Hospital and the driver didn’t know how to get on the Grand Central Parkway,” said Matlack. “He stopped twice to ask for directions. I felt like say, ‘come on guys, let me drive.’”
By then, Matlack was lying in a hospital bed. He never lost consciousness. X-rays showed a hairline skull fracture.
“I had a constant headache for the first 24 hours,” said Matlack.
But the biggest bruise was psychological.
“I worried whether I’d blink or flinch on a pitch,” said Matlack. “I think, more than anything, my fielding slipped. I overreacted on balls hit back to me. I protected myself and then I played the ball.”
A cold spring rain fell on Flushing in May 1977. The Mets-Padres game was postponed. It was perfect opportunity for Matlack to speak face-to-face with GM Joe McDonald.
The Mets had lost six of their last seven games and were mired in last place. Kingman and Seaver, the team’s leaders had already gone public, frustrated with management’s decision not to embrace free agency.
I’m no rebel,” Matlack told the New York Times, “and this has nothing to do with the guys I’m playing with. This has to do with the way the club is being run and promises that were made to me that it would be run better.”
Matlack confessed he was “fed up” with the “people not trying hard enough to win” and asked the team to trade him.
“I thought we had a great pitching staff and could have a good club … ” he said. “So I signed for three years. Well, the time is now – the promises haven’t been kept and I don’t appreciate being snowed.”
McDonald said “he didn’t want it to come to this.”
“It already has come to this,” Matlack replied.
He called the players union and asked if he could demand a trade.
McDonald said he would relay Matlack’s message to management and “see what could be done.” It took six months, but Matlack got his wish.
On December 8, 1977 the Mets, Texas Rangers, Pittsburgh Pirates and Atlanta Braves pulled off an 11-player deal.
The Mets sent Matlack to Texas and John Milner to the Pittsburgh. In return, the Mets obtained first baseman Willie Montanez, outfielder Tom Grieve and a player to be named later.
Spring Training 1978. Matlack sprinted across the grass in Pompano Beach, Florida, the home of the Texas Rangers. It was an odd sight. Mets fans felt a pit in their collective stomachs when they saw Matlack wearing a cap with a capital “T” in bold red on it. The same feeling they had when Seaver put on a Reds uniform.
“It’s probably the best thing that ever happened to me,” said Matlack. “When I came to the major leagues, we had the nucleus of a dynasty, with our pitching and defense, we went from the best baseball city in the country to an absolute joke.”