He Doesn’t Worry and He’s Happy : Davis Waits for Bullpen Phone to Ring, Then Gets Serious

Mark Davis has found a job to fit his personality. He’s a happy-go-lucky guy, a prankster who doesn’t live life as much as enjoy it. He doesn’t worry about anything until something to worry about hits him in the face.

So what does this guy do for a living?

Night club comic?

Sitcom writer?

Beach bum?

Mad Magazine cover boy?

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Mark Davis is a relief pitcher.

Relief pitcher? Relaxed? Comfortable?

Now, this does not make sense. Relief pitchers walk high wires, stroll through pits of vipers and swim through rat-infested caverns. They are the Indiana Joneses of baseball.

“Relief pitchers,” said Padre Manager Jack McKeon, “have no margin for error. Every mistake is magnified.”

That does not exactly sound like a job description for a guy who goes through life with the dead-panned expression of someone who looks as if he is up to something, probably because he is.

If you are getting the impression that Mark Davis is going through life without a worry in the world, let me explain why relief pitching is his cup of giggle juice. You see, Davis has found comfort--and success--as a relief pitcher because he is prone to worry.

Come again?

For better understanding, consider Davis’ analysis of starting pitchers.

“A starting pitcher realizes that he goes every five days,” he said, “and that game is magnified for him. There’s more emphasis for him that day. Looking at it that way puts a lot of pressure on starting pitchers. I know I thought that way as a starting pitcher.”

You see, to Davis’ way of thinking, starting pitchers have an entire day magnified with four days to build on concerns and apprehensions. The closer they get to their start, the more starting pitchers change in personality. Most grow introverted and shrink into the cocoon of their lockers.

“The day they pitch,” said Davis, “starters are totally different.”

This was no way to live for a guy like Mark Davis, who never wants to go through hours or days or weeks being any different than he is.

Relief pitching, in that sense, has set him free.

Remember that Davis doesn’t worry about anything until a worry hits him in the face. That’s the way it is for relief pitchers, or at least Davis as a relief pitcher.

He has had it both ways, starting and relieving, but he hit his stride last year when he became the short man in the bullpen. He adapted so well that he had 28 saves and set a Padre record at one point with 27 2/3 shutout innings. What’s more, he made the National League All-Star team.

So what has he done lately?

Fifteen saves in as many opportunities thus far this season would seem to indicate ’88 was no fluke. He might be hanging another All-Star on this season.

The man is perfect for the job.

“Relief pitching,” he said, “is much more consistent with my personality. I can come out here and enjoy myself. We’ve got a sarcastic bunch down in the bullpen. There’s not a lot to do, so we rag on each other to wile away the hours. We can’t just sit there and be serious and get nervous.”

That’s the key. There’s a time to get serious and nervous, and that time comes when the telephone rings from the dugout. It comes as a quick rush, with no buildup in terms of anxiety.

“I get as nervous as anyone when the phone rings,” he said. “My heart starts pounding. I start warming up, and I work on getting loose and good mechanics. I work on throwing where I want it, hitting spots.”

And he finally looks over his shoulder and contemplates specific hitters and the chore at hand. This is his time, the moment to be nervous rather than days and hours to be build on worries.

Mark Davis craves urgent moments. He is probably the kind of guy who waits until 11:55 p.m. on April 15 to file his taxes or Christmas Eve to do his shopping. No buildup, please, just tell him when it’s time.

You might expect that the Padres would ask only that he saunter into the stadium a couple of hours after the game was scheduled to start and lie down to wait for his wake-up call. Not this guy.

“I get here at 2:30 or 3 o’clock for a night game,” he said. “I do my weight program and open my mail, if there is any. I’ll sign some baseball cards. You know there are three new ones every year for kids to send. Maybe shoot a game of pool. I enjoy being around the guys. I’ve listened to people who have retired talk about what they miss and what they miss most is the camaraderie. These are the good times.”

That’s the way it is for Mark Davis. Starting pitchers, at least on the day they work, often look as if they are headed for executions. Davis is more likely to have a look on his face like he’s going to (or from) a party.

Certainly, there are times for a nervous heartbeat, but not now . Not until he is standing on his high wire with a viper at every base and Darryl Strawberry coiled at the plate.