For Welch, Game Is Really a Throwaway

Bob Welch slowed those Cardinals, all right--all the way down to a walk. Working with what was apparently a matchbook strike zone Saturday, Welch issued six bases on balls, including four in the first inning, and was wholly erratic in his throws to other targets, as well.

He was as wild as an animal kingdom, as errant as a knight. Never mind the throws to home plate--and he admitted they were little more than that--there was a throw into center field, too, one that scored the first Cardinal run. He nearly beaned the second-base umpire, for goodness sakes.

Now, this is all kind of new for Welch, normally a master of control. But the man they call Bullet Bob was throwing buckshot, with a pattern the size of all Missouri.

Of his 83 pitches over 2 innings, 42 were balls. “I was not in a state of pitching,” he readily admitted. “I was just in a state of winding up and throwing the ball.” And just about anywhere would do.

His lack of control was infectious. Catcher Mike Scioscia, who had surprised a couple of Cardinals with his dead-on throws to second base in previous games, got into the act with a throw into right field. And they say nothing much ever happens in right field.

Together, Welch and Scioscia combined for all but one of the four Cardinal runs, all coming in the first two innings. Welch’s attempted pickoff throw to second base, after Vince Coleman had stolen the base, sent Coleman home. Four more walks (two of them intentional, to be fair) certainly helped Willie McGee on his way home.

And then Scioscia’s throw to first base in the second inning, which had Coleman caught in a rundown play, skidded into right field, allowing Coleman to go to third. McGee drove him in with a single, and that was three runs.

Of course, Welch was not exactly off the hook for run No. 4. That was a home run by Tommy Herr.

But the difference in this game was Welch’s unusual lack of control. This from a man who had given up just 35 walks in 161 innings and just 6 in his last 39 innings. What was going on? Was he distracted out of his mind by those jittery Cardinals, pawing around at first base like Ferdinand the Bull?

“Well, you’re aware of it,” he said, which was some kind of understatement since he had thrown 20 times to first base to make sure Coleman’s and McGee’s pawing was restricted to that spot. “And you try to pay attention to it. But my problem wasn’t my throws to first as much as my throws to home.”

Welch said it was just one of those days. He had no rhythm, no idea where the strike zone was or how to reach it. “Just never got cooking,” he said pleasantly. “All of a sudden, we’re four runs down, and I’m out of there.”

Even so, for all his wildness to the plate, he might have left something for his relievers to salvage if he hadn’t whirled on the mound and thrown the ball to . . . Ken Landreaux. Actually, the ball was thrown closer to umpire Paul Runge. “I tried to get Runge to make the pickoff,” Welch said, “but he didn’t have a glove.” Welch thought a little. “No reason it can’t hit him,” he said. “It doesn’t have to go by him.”

But no ball would go where Welch wanted it.

Scioscia’s errant toss was no less damaging, or wild. After distinguishing himself by catching both Coleman and McGee (who had 166 steals between them) at second in Game 2, Scioscia uncorked a beauty . . . to Mike Marshall.

Advised that he had made that throw good most of the time, Scioscia said, “Most of the time isn’t good enough against a Coleman or a McGee.” Only perfect would do against those two.

Scioscia’s own throw was a result of a lack of balance. “I had more time to throw than I thought,” he said, “and I just pulled it and threw it away.”

Scioscia somehow got it together, because on the next play he cut down McGee at second. But Welch hadn’t got it together, because his next play was on Herr, who lofted a pitch into the right-field bleachers. As it was one of Welch’s few strikes, one wonders if the Dodgers hadn’t been better served when Welch was serving worse.