His final line read as such: 0.1 IP, 0 hits, 1 run (0 earned), 0 strikeouts, 0 walks, 11 pitches, and 7 strikes. Losing pitcher of record.
While the Seattle Mariners were celebrating their extra-innings walk-off win against the Blue Jays Wednesday evening, R.A. Dickey walked off the mound for what may have been the last time in a Toronto uniform.
It was a moment of heartbreak for both players and fans. After a spectacular one-out home run by Jose Bautista to tie the game at one run apiece, John Gibbons finally gave the nod to Dickey, marking his first relief appearance since being traded to Toronto. Three batters later, after a fielding error, sacrifice bunt, and sacrifice fly, Dickey was tagged with a loss that, perhaps more than any other, was indicative of his tenure in Toronto.
If that was indeed Dickey’s last outing as a Blue Jay, how will his time in Toronto be remembered?
Harken back to a mid-December day in 2012, when the Toronto Blue Jays excitedly announced that they had traded for the reigning NL Cy Young award winner, along with Josh Thole and Mike Nickeas, in exchange for Travis d’Arnaud, Noah Syndergaard, John Buck and Wuilmer Becerra. The deal was woven into a much broader scheme to drastically revamp the team. This was, of course, the same offseason as the blockbuster trade with the Miami Marlins that brought Jose Reyes, Mark Buehrle and Josh Johnson to the Jays. The Jays had set the baseball world on fire; 2013 would be their year.
At the time of the trade, the average Jays fans likely knew little, if anything at all, about R.A. Dickey except the manner in which he was presented to them: the reigning National League Cy Young winner who had won 20 games the previous season with an ERA of 2.73 over 233.2 innings pitched. Within the context of the rebuild, he was the final piece in the puzzle, a legitimate ace who would help lead the Jays back to the promised land of the playoffs.
That Dickey had been anointed the staff’s ace prior to throwing a pitch for the Jays was made apparent when during spring training manager John Gibbons announced that Dickey would be 2013’s opening day starter. By the time April 2 rolled around, the 2013 season hype had been in overdrive for months, and fans were eager for a run at the postseason.
Dickey was the losing pitcher of record for that opening day start, surrendering four runs (three earned) on five hits including a home run over six innings in a loss that epitomized the remainder of the season: great promise turned to great disappointment as the Jays finished the season 74-88.
In hindsight, that first start encapsulated much of his tenure in Toronto – Dickey pitched well enough to give his team a chance to win but was ultimately tagged with the loss. In his 130 games started for the Jays, Dickey average 6.34 innings per outing while the Jays provided an average of just 3.13 runs in support. Though he was never worse than league average, R.A. Dickey, with his oddball pitch and unconventional mannerisms, became the focus for many disgruntled fans. He was an easy target during those first two seasons for failing to deliver on what fans thought was the promise of an ace; and then, he became a target for being exactly what he had been his entire time in Toronto – a solid number four or five starter who, for reasons I find inexplicable, was deemed as inadequate for a playoff team.
The question is: was this fair? In a word, the answer is no.
The expectations heaped upon R.A. Dickey when he arrived in Toronto were enormous and, quite frankly, impossible to live up to. He was presented to fans as a legitimate ace for having won the Cy Young award the previous season. And, while those fans who followed baseball beyond the scope of Toronto were likely far more reserved in their excitement at his acquisition, the average Jays fan knew only of how he had been presented to them.
What perhaps was made unclear to the average fan was his Cy Young season had been the exception rather than the norm; that within the context of the American League East his knuckleball might not prove perilous to opposing hitters, particularly within the confines of the homerun-friendly Rogers Centre. Within the context of the climate created at the time, Dickey was destined to fall short of expectations, because those expectations had been set so unattainably high.
It is also unfair to judge Dickey’s time here against that on which the Jays lost out; flamethrower Noah Syndergaard has established himself as a true ace for the Mets, adding fuel to fire that seems to be stoked each and every time Dickey falters on the mound. Though both fans and the Jays organization may lament the loss of Syndergaard, the team traded him away willingly for what was at the time a known quantity, choosing a veteran over a prospect in a win-now scenario. To be disgruntled about the trade is entirely fair; to hold it against Dickey, who worked tirelessly and gave his very best, despite his best not always appearing to be so, is entirely unfair.
There is no doubt that the trade itself was a bust, particularly if Syndergaard continues to excel. That cannot be undone. If evaluating Dickey’s legacy on his own merit, I believe it will mirror his four years in Toronto – he will be remembered as an average pitcher who could both dazzle and distress, often within the same game. He pitched gems and duds to a near-.500 record (he was 49-52 in Toronto) for a team that made the playoffs two of his four years in a Jays’ uniform. To put it succinctly, the reviews will be mixed.
With Dickey’s future in baseball unclear – he is considering retirement – what is clear is the legacy he will leave behind for the baseball community as a whole. R.A. Dickey was not your prototypical athlete. He had to reinvent himself to remain relevant, toiling away with a trick pitch for which there was little guidance or understanding, carving himself out a niche in a world where fastball is king. When he used phrases such as “capricious animal” to explain why his knuckleball didn’t dance on a particular night, I never saw him as making excuses for himself; rather, I viewed him as someone cerebral who was searching for answers, something to which we can all relate. Quiet, reserved, set apart by age and circumstances, Dickey seemingly never quite fit in. But, while images of Dioner Navarro wearing a police officer’s hat or Jose Bautista smoking a cigar surrounded by a cloud of smoke after winning the AL East are inherently cool, there was nothing more joyous than seeing R.A. Dickey run gleefully around the entire stadium high-fiving fans like a little kid rekindling his love of baseball.
This is a man, after all, who shouldered the burden of speaking up about being a survivor of sexual abuse, and though the sports world has an awfully long way to go, his bravery to open up about something that is so rarely discussed within the world of professional sports no doubt helped pave the way for other survivors to share their stories. It is something that cannot and should not be overlooked when considering his contributions to baseball.
Think of him what you will, but I sincerely hope that he’ll receive the opportunity to take the mound one more time in Toronto, even if to face just one batter in relief. I, for one, would like to see him walk off the mound to applause so that both player and fans can acknowledge one another before parting ways.
In my estimation, R.A. Dickey deserves to go out like that.
I agree. I would like to see him finishing his career in a more positive fashion.
I will miss his interviews as much as his play. And his joy. Remember the joy.
Great article. I’d love to see R.A finish his career as a Blue Jay on a more positive note as well. He is primarily the reason why I got back into Blue Jays baseball. After reading his book, and scouring Youtube for all his videos, this pitcher is not just an athlete, but a man of character, determinism, and grit. I wish the best for him.