All I could think was, "please save this game, Izzy, so I can shut my friends up."
Jason Isringhausen was a closer for the St. Louis Cardinals for seven seasons, the longest-tenured ninth-inning arm for the team during my lifetime. It wasn't always easy. In fact, for the majority of his time in St. Louis — especially toward the end — he would raise blood pressure and chew off nerve endings during his outings. That's the job.
Sometimes getting the job done doesn't always look pretty, but at the end of the day, the record stands above all else. Izzy would put runners on base, but he got the job done more often than not. He owns 217 saves as a Cardinal closer, closing out games at an 85% rate. If you looked at that percentage over a season or two, you'd be displeased. Over seven seasons, it's a pretty good mark.
Isringhausen's save totals with the Cardinals reached 30 games in five of his seven seasons in St. Louis, including a high mark of 47 in 2004. A lifetime 2.98 ERA, 3.59 FIP, and 1.191 WHIP are all solid, but his secret sauce was longevity. From the time he got here in 2002, he was the guy until the last month of the 2006 season, when a degenerative hip injury forced him from the role.
If you take that disastrous 2006 season away, one where a young Adam Wainwright took over for Isringhausen, the overall record looks a lot better. He simply couldn't stick his pitching motion and release point, which took away his deadly 12-6 curveball and made his cutter more visible to hitters. But it wasn't really the hits that did him in during that season; the walks burnt his effectiveness to a crisp.
He bounced back in 2007 with 32 saves in 34 chances, but 2008 spelled injury again. Isringhausen's departure created a job opening that would be filled briefly by Ryan Franklin, but invited numerous candidates into the fold.
Jason Motte finished off a World Series and saved 42 games in 2012, but suffered Tommy John injury and fell off the map. Trevor Rosenthal posted back-to-back 45-plus save seasons in 2014-15 but fell apart in the next two seasons before succumbing to Tommy John surgery himself.
Isringhausen, signed as a free agent after Billy Beane and Oakland couldn't match his asking price, was the last model of consistency at the closer role. That is why he is entering the Cardinals Hall of Fame this weekend. It's not comparing him to the brilliant Mariano Rivera or Trevor Hoffman, who own a spot in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Isringhausen, a converted starter, did a very good job for the team by holding the gig for a longer period of time and maintaining a high success rate. If his hip hadn't given out, you could add two more seasons of reliability to his St. Louis tenure, but baseball and the human body can be cruel.
Did he make you nervous during those ninth innings? Sure he did. But so do other good closers. It's the toughest three outs to get in the game, or at least that's what former pitchers-turned-color analysts tell me. They have to slam the door shut on close games, holding off another team's greedy intent on wrecking the party that 35,000-40,000 people are attending. I remember candidly driving around St. Louis for an extra 20 minutes as Mike Shannon kept saying, "Izzy comes set, checks the runners, and delivers to the plate." I probably muttered it in my sleep.
As the Cardinals shuttle closers in and out due to Tommy John surgery and ineffectiveness, hinging their bets on Carlos Martinez's execution during a pennant chase at the moment, one does long for the consistency of Isringhausen. I long for the days on the manual scoreboard at Old Busch where I would lower my head into an open slot down near the National League and watch him sling pitches down on the field. The rest of the scoreboard crew lost faith like they did when Ray Lankford couldn't stop striking out. I held firm until Tony La Russa and Dave Duncan called it.
It was a bad knee for Lankford; Isringhausen's lower body let him down near the end. Somehow, against some of my co-workers wishes, both will wear red jackets by Monday.
With athletes, the sum of all parts means more than the individual moment. Few personify that better than Jason Isringhausen.
Welcome to the esteemed room of greats, Izzy.
