SINK OR SWIM : When Minton’s Life Turned Up, His Pitches Stayed Down Again

Greg Minton sat in the lobby of a Toronto hotel, a novel open in his lap but his mind on his teammates in the nearby bar. The Angels’ game with the Blue Jays had been rained out, and the players had a couple of hours to kill before flying on to Detroit.

Once, Minton would have pushed his considerable belly up to the bar. But the 1989 Greg Minton stared at his book and practiced self-control.

“I would have loved to go in there, but I sat in the lobby and read my book like a good little boy,” he said later.

Greg Minton once stole the team bus. Now, he’s one of the first guys aboard. He used to eat, drink and make merry until dawn, then sleep into the afternoon. Now, he’s up early, has run a few miles before breakfast and can look forward to a hearty salad and a couple of iced teas for lunch.

“My metabolism ain’t what it used to be,” said Minton, 38, forcing a smile.

Minton may not party as much as he once did, but he feels a lot better about himself. Once a 248-pound behemoth who elicited jeers from the hometown fans in San Francisco whenever he warmed up, which wasn’t often, he’s now a svelte crowd-favorite who leads the team with 14 appearances. He has a 1.69 earned-run average with three saves and has been a vital factor in the Angels’ early success.

“The way Greg’s pitching now, he’s invaluable,” Manager Doug Rader said. “He has the ability to be a set-up guy, to come in in the early innings and get us out of a precarious situation, or be a closer. He’s just done an exceptional job.”

Minton has changed his act, but there’s one thing he has retained from the early ‘80s, when he was one of the National League’s premier relievers--a nasty, sinking fastball.

“He’s got a really great arm,” catcher Lance Parrish said. “I love the way he throws the ball--wish I could make a ball move like that. The ball looks like it’s in a good spot to hit, but then when you commit, it suddenly drops down . . . the bottom just falls out of it.”

There was a time when Minton’s life matched that description.

Minton married at 17 and when the marriage fell apart, his career followed suit. He gained weight and lost interest in the game.

“The biggest thing was the divorce,” Minton said. “And then I lost a custody battle for my kids. Let’s just say I was not a happy camper. To be honest, baseball had become very secondary in my life.”

Minton recorded 111 saves for the Giants between 1980 and 1984. In 1982, he had a 10-4 record, 30 saves and a 1.83 ERA. But the fans in San Francisco quickly forgot when his waistline bulged and his save totals shrank.

“It was nobody’s fault but my own,” Minton said. “I mean I was totally out of shape and the Giants were paying me a goodly sum of money to do a job. I’m not sure anyone should have to endure some of the choice words that were directed toward me and my family. It was my fault.”

Single for the first time since high school, Minton “took too much advantage of being a single human being . . . you can read into that what you will.”

But somehow, Minton had lost the youthful exuberance that characterized his early days in the majors.

After all, there is a certain lightheartedness in swiping the team bus to go buy boots, as he once did in Houston, and then driving it to the park. Or hang-gliding his way to a $200 fine on a day off. Or tricking a teammate into knocking on the manager’s hotel room door at 4 in the morning.

But there is nothing lighthearted about carousing and getting fat.

“I certainly didn’t set out to let myself go,” he said. “I gained a few pounds, then a few more, and weighed 220 before I realized I had a problem. I made a few halfhearted efforts to catch myself, but . . . “

Then Minton met his current wife, Brenda, and he found the inspiration he needed. Together, they began the climb back up.

Minton was 1-1 with one save and a 3.47 ERA when the Giants released him on May 28, 1987. Five days later, the Angels picked him up, in more ways than one.

“Three things stick in my mind about those first days with the Angels,” Minton said. “When I first got here (pitching coach Marcel Lachemann) asked me how my arm felt. I said I hadn’t pitched in five days, but I felt fine. He told me to be ready for the late innings.

“Then (former manager) Gene Mauch called me into his office and said he didn’t care what he’d heard . . . that he had no preconceived notions, that I was starting from scratch as far as he was concerned.

“I pitched that first night in New York. Then I pitched again on our first night back in Anaheim. When I came to the mound, I heard cheering. I went home to tell Brenda, but I couldn’t put into words the way it made me feel.”

Brenda is Minton’s fitness director and during the off-season has him running 10 miles every morning. They both adhere to a strict diet, and he regularly works out with a former U.S. national taekwondo coach near his home in Gilbert, Ariz.

Minton once went more than three seasons without allowing a home run while setting a major league record of 269 1/3 consecutive innings without giving up a homer. He just set the Angel club record with 88 1/3 innings.

Former Giant Manager Frank Robinson once said he thought Minton could pitch the ninth inning of all 162 games if he had to. But the arm that wouldn’t die needs rest now.

Making his fourth appearance in five games last Saturday, Minton gave up a two-run double, a walk and a warning-track sacrifice fly while facing just three Toronto batters.

“I’m learning things about my body at this age,” Minton said. “It use to be, the more I threw, the more the ball sank. Now, I’m learning that even if I feel fine, sometimes I don’t have the arm speed I need if I’ve been out there too many days in a row.”

Minton’s style relies more on arm whip than arm strength and a lack of work can be a problem, too.

“I’ve always relied on one trick pitch and if the ball doesn’t sink, I can throw 100 m.p.h. and it won’t do any good. In fact, when I’m all fired up and doing my Nolan Ryan impersonation, feeling like I’m gonna throw it right by them, that’s when I get into trouble. After a couple of hits, I realize that I couldn’t throw it by ‘em at 25 so I sure as hell can’t throw it by anyone at 38.”