Finley, Team Outlook Continue to Improve

No one can explain this Angel season so far, least of all the dean of all Angels, the lone soul who survived the Whitey years and the Cookie years and mushroom cloud of ’86 and weekly trade rumors for most of the ‘90s, Chuck (Purple Heart) Finley.

Just take Finley’s season so far.

Five starts in, where was he? Lost in space, perhaps. Lost for words, very nearly. Finley lost his first four decisions and dragged an 0-4 record into the last home stand of May while the rest of the club won enough games to lead the American League West.

“What’s up with the Angels?” became the most-asked question on the freeways that lead to Anaheim Stadium, followed closely by “What’s wrong with Finley?”

Then the Yankees and the Red Sox come to town, lugging their heavy-hitting reputations and hefty Southern California fan clubs with them. Bronx Bombers, Beasts From The East, the most horrifying cliches in the land.

Finley caught them twice in six days.

Struck out 15 Yankees on Tuesday night.

Struck out nine Red Sox in 5 2/3 innings Sunday afternoon.

So, when did he decide to start spelling his name ChucKKKKKKKKK?

“That isn’t me,” Finley insisted after Sunday’s 8-3 Angel victory.

“When I strike out a lot of guys, that’s a discredit to me. If I’m getting a lot of strikeouts, that means I’m working the count long, throwing too many pitches.

“You look at my career and I usually average around six strikeouts per nine innings . . . I’m not a nine-strikeout-a-game guy. Randy Johnson can do that, but he has a 97 mile-an-hour fastball. I’m more of a trickster. If I’m striking out nine, 10 guys a game, I’ll wear myself down. It works more against me than for me.”

And those 15 flailing Yankees in that two-hit, 10-0 triumph the start before?

“A little freak of nature,” Finley called it. “Everything I threw up there was a strike. Either it was in the strike zone and they didn’t swing or it was in the dirt and they went after it.

“From the first pitch to the last, I was locked in. Any pitcher with good stuff is going to have three or four games a year like that.”

No brag, just fact, Finley maintains.

With that, Finley proceeded to lay out the other three species of game any pitcher with good stuff is going to encounter during the course of a season.

* “You go out there and you grind it out, like I had to do today.”

* “You go out there with nothing and you have to find a way to keep your team in it.”

* “You go out there, three or four times a year, and you get your . . . lit.”

Sunday was a grinder, in Finley’s estimation, because those nine strikeouts came intertwined with six hits and five walks in less than six innings. Five days after throwing 145 pitches to complete nine innings, Finley went another 125 and couldn’t close out the top of the sixth.

“For me to throw 125 pitches in six innings is kinda ridiculous,” Finley said. “No, it’s very ridiculous . . .

“The other night, when I won my 100th game against the Yankees, Mark [Langston] told me, ‘Once you get past 100, the rest just fall into your lap.’ ”

Finley tried to work up the energy to laugh, but just couldn’t find it.

“Nothing fell into my lap today. Today was a total grind.”

Correction. One thing did fall into Finley’s lap Sunday. A victory. Despite his struggles with self and the strike zone, Finley left the game leading, 7-3. That’s two victories in a row, which beats four losses in a row, which might have had a younger Finley beating his head against a dugout wall.

“I started last year 0-3 and I wasn’t throwing the ball as well as I was this year,” Finley said. “I kinda knew the wins would come eventually. Now, if I was 22 with 40 days in the bigs, I might be saying, ‘Gee whiz.’

“Another thing is that the team’s been winning. When you’re winning, that’s makes everything easier to swallow.”

Finley would know, having endured nine years of a mostly foul-tasting diet program. At 32, an Angel since 1986, Finley can tick off the good years on his left hand and still have enough fingers left over to pinch a resin bag.

He can remember the taste of champagne in ‘86, barely, and he can talk about ‘89, “when we started fast and stayed up there a long time,” and he can speak with authority on ‘91, “when we went into the All-Star break in first place and then fell a little bit all over ourselves.”

He’s been waiting some time to pad out that short list.

“It would be really nice to do it again,” he says, referring to postseason participation. “You look at the big picture, with the team being sold and not knowing what Mr. Autry’s situation is and the way the division is set up right now. This may be the last shot Mr. Autry gets before turning the reins over.”

Finley promises to do all he can. Twenty-four strikeouts in 14 innings, 270 pitches in less than a week, back-to-back victories, even. Whatever it takes.