Let’s Forget That Pitch and Wish Donnie Luck

So Donnie is done for. No more Moore. Kiss him goodby, the same way Dave Henderson kissed Moore’s fat pitch far into the afternoon sky one strange, mesmerizing October day in 1986.

For Angel followers, it will forever be the unforgiveable sin. For then-manager Gene Mauch, it was another stiletto twisted in his heart. For Moore, it was simply another pitch, costlier, to be sure, more painful, but not the end of the world. It’s the credo of relievers everywhere; has to be.

Moore’s gone--the Angels placed him on waivers Friday--but not forgotten. Never forgotten. And come to think of it, maybe not even gone.

How about this scenario:

Moore, now free to sign with any team for the last month or so of the season, receives no satisfactory offers. Maybe the effects of his fractured finger (he says he is at least a week away from even being able to throw the ball) has discouraged interest by, say, the New York Yankees and, ironically enough, the Boston Red Sox, winners of that ’86 playoff series. Maybe Moore decides it’s too risky to pitch right now, that an estimated 26-day injury layoff would do much more harm than good. Maybe he waits until spring training, when he’s healed and healthy to sign with . . .

Ta-da . . .the Angels.

We’re talking bargain-basement prices, of course. None of this $850,000-a-year (guaranteed) stuff that Moore has received these last three seasons (plus the $450,000 he got at contract’s beginning). And by waiving him now and signing him later, the Angels no longer are bound by the rule that says a player’s salary can be cut only 20%, or in Moore’s case, to $680,000. This way, the Angels can get Moore relatively cheap and Moore, 34, can try to get his career back in order.

There would have to be some other changes, too. For instance, Moore would no long be the Angel save specialist, the closer of games. That job now rightfully belongs to 24-year-old Bryan Harvey, a candidate for rookie of the year honors. Instead, Moore would have to be content with middle-relief work, set-up work. It’s worker-bee stuff, but it keeps Moore from having to call the moving van people. And who knows, if he regained his form of 1985, when he presented the Angels with an unexpected 31 saves and a 1.92 earned-run average, anything could happen.

You say you’re doubled over in pain, that the image of Henderson’s drive falling quietly over the Anaheim Stadium fence that day makes it impossible to embrace Moore’s return. Better yet, you say, look at Moore’s last two seasons--stink bombs if you ever smelled one.

1987: Just 14 appearances, 5 saves, 2 long stays on the disabled list.

1988: Just 27 appearances, 4 saves, a 4.91 ERA and 48 hits allowed in 33 innings, which works out to a .343 opponents’ batting average.

You through?

Granted, Moore’s numbers ought to be deposited in a New Jersey landfill, never to be seen again. They were awful, disappointing and certainly not worth the generous paychecks owner Gene Autry reluctantly signed.

Then again, Moore was hurt. A lot. He spent 1987 trying to convince team doctors that something was causing pain in his rib cage. On Oct. 5 of that year, microscopic surgery was performed to remove a bone spur from Moore’s spine.

“I don’t know if you’d call that carelessness, negligence or the simple fact that they didn’t believe me,” Moore said Friday, “but it’s why I’m in the precarious position I’m in now.”

This season hasn’t been much fun, either. More injuries, more visits to the disabled list, the most recent one after Carlton Fisk’s ground ball broke the tip of Moore’s finger.

“I think it would be realistic to say that we both went into it with the highest of hopes and that we are both disappointed that it didn’t work out as well as we would have liked,” General Manager Mike Port said.

But what a mistake it would be to ignore Moore’s talents altogether because of two season’s worth of injuries. And what a bigger mistake to use Game 5 of that series against the Red Sox as another excuse to bid Moore a not-so-fond farewell.

Moore wasn’t the only reason the Angels lost Game 5. He had lots of help, including reliever Gary Lucas plunking Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman with a pitch; Rob Wilfong failing to move to second base when the Red Sox tried throwing Ruppert Jones out at home (Dick Schofield followed with a single, which likely would have scored Wilfong from second); Doug DeCinces popping out with bases loaded and one out in the bottom of the ninth.

Nor was Moore the reason for the Angels’ last-place showing in 1987 or the cause of this year’s struggle to stay above .500. He could have helped, but how much?

Let’s put it this way: Moore’s baseball card isn’t one of my favorites. He has a streak of pettiness that appears whenever criticized and a bark that hardly ever matches his bite. But he also has a thick streak of honesty and if he says he was hurt, he was hurt. And to Game 5 aficionados, Moore never made excuses for The Pitch. He threw it, he accepted the consequences, even when it meant getting booed, of all the silly things, in spring training.

Funny thing about that 1986 playoff series. Of the 48 players that were on the two rosters, 25 are gone--retired, released or traded. Both managers are out of the game, too. Now it’s Moore’s turn, it seems.

Maybe it’s time to forgive. Those 31 saves in 1985, that spinal surgery in 1987, enduring the boos of 1988 has earned Moore that much, hasn’t it? And if Moore signs with another team next season, maybe it’s only fair that he is wished good luck, not good riddance.