Q. You’ve given us the remarkable story of your life in baseball with this book, The Closer. Would you mind telling us what you were thinking in those first days of spring training with the Gulf Coast Yankees in 1990?
A. I was surrounded by guys who were stronger than me and threw harder than me, and I was outperforming them. I was thinking, “How on earth am I doing this?” I was getting results that were far beyond my physical abilities. It had to be the Lord’s work.
I have to thank my first catcher and good friend, Claudino Hernandez, for seeing my potential. When I was on the training field with Tim Rumer, Russ Springer, Brian Faw, and others, I wasn’t as fast or as strong as they were, but I could do one thing better than just about anybody else. It was the thing Claudino saw I could do at the try-outs. I could put the ball exactly where I wanted it.
Q. You’ve said several times that you try to keep it simple. Is that how you made it through your career, just keeping it simple?
A. You could say that. Life is hard and humbling. I do all I can to keep it simple and to pray to the Lord for clarity and wisdom, so that His will and His perfect goodness will guide me and keep me safe. The Bible will tell you everything about how I try to live. For me, it is not just the word of God, but a life road map that is packed with wisdom that you cannot beat. It has this kind of simple wisdom: “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
You know how many times I’ve gone out to the mound thinking, “This guy has no shot, because I am Mariano Rivera?” Never. The guy with the bat in his hand is a professional. He is trying just as hard to get a hit as I am trying to get him out. I respect that, and I know everything I have is from the Lord.
When I was sent back to the Columbus Clippers after pitching a few games for the Yankees, I had two weeks of rest and then started pitching faster than ever before. My catcher, Jorge Posada, asked me what I was eating, because I jumped from throwing 88 to 96 mph that game. I know of only one answer. It was a gift from the Lord. The cutter I throw, my fastball with a wicked tail on it, wasn’t something I studied and practiced for years. The Lord gave it to me, and it changed my whole career.
Everything is in his hands. I do not take it for granted. It was the way I wanted to pitch, and it is the way I want to live. Put everything we have into living this moment the best way we can live it. Some players obsess over rumors, but for me, they are only distractions. In my worldview as a pitcher, distractions are the enemy. Again, simple is best.
Q. You spend a little time in your book on the 1998 season and performance-enhancing drugs. Could you summarize your perspective for us?
A. There were wacky numbers all over baseball that year, especially in the home run department. I understand the cynicism. So many star athletes have turned out to be chemically enhanced, and if I could erase one thing from recent baseball history, it would be performance-enhancing drugs. Taking PEDs is cheating. It robs the game of integrity and legitimacy.
If you were my teammate and you turned out to be a drug user, I would not coddle you or look the other way. But I’m also not going to abandon you. As much as I may abhor the behavior, I am not going to rebuke you, as if I am some high moral authority. Jesus says, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?”
Q. So players should use the gifts God has given them and avoid drugs that might give them a dishonest edge.
A. Yes. One of the great ironies about sports is that trying too hard to succeed is about the surest way to bring on failure. When John Wetteland signed with the Rangers, the Yankees put me in as their closer. I didn’t let on at the time, but I really wanted to show everybody that I could do it. The ’97 season didn’t start well, and Mr. T. (Joe Torre) and the pitching coach, Mel Stottlemyre, called me in.
I said, “I’m sorry I’ve blown so many games.”
They said, “Mo, do you know what you need to do? You need to be Mariano Rivera. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. It looks to us like you’re trying to be perfect.”
I walked out of that office feeling 10,000 tons lighter. They wanted me to be myself. That’s when I devised a little trick. I wasn’t going to think about the inning or anything else. When I’m on the mound, I have the ball, the hitter has a bat, and my only job is to get him out one pitch at a time.
The payoff was immediate. I stopped trying to be Wetteland and demanding perfection, and I run off twelve straight saves.
Q. In your last season, you took time to meet fans and stadium employees before each game. How did those experiences go? What did you want to accomplish?
A. They were emotional. Those meetings were as memorable for me as anything I did that year. Jason Zillo, the Yankees PR director, set it up for me. I met ushers, cafeteria workers, people who worked behind the scenes to make ball games happen, and fans too. I wasn’t trying to be noble. I was just thanking people for their contributions and steadfastness. I wanted to join them in their world, not mine.
They told me of their pain and their courage. I remember Heather Bresette, the mother of a family that has been through a lot, told me, “We won’t give up, just like you.” I can’t tell you what that means to me.
Everybody wanted to make a big deal out of how nice it is for me to take an hour or so out of my day, but I tried to tell them that they were the ones who should be thanked for what they have given me. Even in a room overstuffed with pain and adversity, the Lord’s blessings, and people’s goodness were everywhere, and I am so much richer for having been there.
Q. And now you have renovated a dilapidated church building in New Rochelle, NY. What do you hope to do there?
A. Yes, we moved our church there. We’re calling it Refugio de Esperanza or Refuge of Hope. We started it in 2009. Clara is the pastor. The Lord’s plan for this place is to proclaim the gospel and serve the community with a food pantry, educational programs, sports programs, and anything we can do to give young people what they need to success in everyday life.
Read more about Rivera from the co-author of this book, sportswriter Wayne Coffey.