Cleveland Spring 2009

CLEVELAND -- 1. I hear Anthony Reyes has been the most impressive pitcher in camp. Not in terms of stuff, but just savvy and looking ready to go. Not surprised -- those six starts, that 1.83 ERA and 12 walks in 34 1/3 innings with the Tribe late last season said a lot. Now, keep that elbow healthy.

2. I hear Jeremy Sowers is throwing harder than ever with the Tribe -- being clocked at 92 mph. But his control is iffy, there is not enough "separation" or space between his fastball and changeup. I think he's headed to Class AAA.

3. I hear part of the reason Fausto Carmona looks like his old self is his chemistry with Victor Martinez. The Indians want control from Carmona, and he has walked only two in eight spring innings. Even before his hip injury, he was leading the AL in walks after his first 10 starts of 2008. He walked 70 in 120 innings.

4. I think the idea of Martinez catching Carmona is smart. In 2007, Carmona had a 2.74 ERA throwing to Martinez, and he allowed five runs in nine innings with Kelly Shoppach. In 2008, it was a 4.57 ERA in 63 innings with Martinez, a 7.39 ERA in 39 innings with Shoppach. The key for Carmona is control, and he did average fewer than two walks per nine innings in most minor league seasons. In 2007 when he was 19-8, he walked only 61 in 215 innings.

5. I hear Manager Eric Wedge saying Dave Dellucci "is on the club for now." I think that is written in ink. I think there are real alternatives in both Josh Barfield and Trevor Crowe as backup outfielders, with Barfield also able to play the infield. As one Tribe operative told me, "Crowe can play all three outfield positions. He can pinch run. He can throw. He is a switch hitter." That sounds like an ideal fourth outfielder, especially compared to the 35-year-old Dellucci who can't run, can't throw and has stayed healthy enough to hit.

6. I hear David Huff was "dominating" in an intrasquad game Monday, and he soon will be throwing in preseason games. I think he can win the fifth starter spot unless Aaron Laffey (7 ER, 12 hits, 5 innings) turns around quick.

7. I hear good things about Wes Hodges (6-of-16) this spring, and I had a brain belch when I forgot to list him last Sunday as the position prospects who have impressed GM Mark Shapiro, the others being Michael Brantley, Carlos Santana, Matt LaPorta and Crowe. LaPorta and Brantley look close to big-league ready today.

8. I hear Asdrubal Cabrera is 7-10 pounds lighter than a year ago and looks terrific in the field at second or shortstop. I also hear Jhonny Peralta is mashing the ball, and Ryan Garko (10-15 pounds lighter) is doing an OK job in left field.

9. I hear good things about Carl Pavano, but I don't think I trust him to stay healthy and/or effective. I'm hoping they get one reliable starter from Reyes/Pavano.

10. I hear the Indians are trying to get Masa Kobayashi (3 IP, 5H, 5 W, 4 ER) to use his splitter more. I hear the Indians say he's a veteran and they are not worried about him. I think if they aren't worried -- they are concerned. And they should be, because he's having the same problems that he did last year after the All-Star break (10.32 ERA).

Every Rookie has a shot to make it

Every rookie has a shot to make it -- just ask Super Joe Charboneau: Terry Pluto
by Terry Pluto/Plain Dealer Columnist
Thursday February 26, 2009, 8:42 PM

Want to feel old?

Joe Charboneau is 53. He has a 29-year-old son and a 27-year-old daughter. He and Cindy have been married for 33 years. It was 29 years ago that Charboneau went to spring training with the Tribe in Arizona and ended up being Rookie of the Year.

Want to feel young?

It is spring training, the Indians are back in Arizona and sometimes, a young player emerges like Super Joe Charboneau -- shooting straight up from Class AA to the majors.

Maybe it will be Matt LaPorta. Or Michael Brantley. Or David Huff, who spent only a few months in Class AAA.

"If any of those guys asked me, I'd tell them that this is your chance because you never know when you'll get another one," said Charboneau, who lives in North Ridgeville, where he works for the city's recreation department. He also gives private batting lessons and does card shows and fantasy camps.

"Don't worry when people say you can't make it," said Charboneau. "You never know what will happen. Guys get hurt, there are trades. I was not supposed to make the Indians in 1980."

Charboneau talked about the spring when he, his wife and young daughter drove in a beat-up Datsun from their home in Northern California to Tucson, Ariz. He was the defending Class AA Southern League batting champion, having hit .352. He was 24 years old, his $5,000 in bonus money long gone.

Mark Duncan/Associated PressSuper phenom Joe Charboneau of the Indians talks to the press in Cleveland on Dec. 3, 1980, after his selection as AL Rookie of the Year. The Indians had an outfield of Jorge Orta, Rick Manning and Mike Hargrove. That's correct, Hargrove was a left fielder. Andre Thornton at first base, Cliff Johnson the designated hitter. On the bench were supposed to be Dell Alston, Cito Gaston and Andres Mora. Charboneau seemed ticketed for the Class AAA Charleston (W.Va.) Charlies.

"I walked up to the dressing room at Hi Corbett Field and stood at the door," said Charboneau. "I was afraid to go in. I stood out there for a couple of minutes, just staring at it. My heart was jumping. I finally went through the door, and I was scared. [Trainer] Jimmy Warfield walked right over to me and made me feel welcome."

Charboneau said he stayed with his young family at a motel called the Spanish Trail, the spring home for all Tribe minor-leaguers.

"It was an old place with a train on the roof, don't ask me why," said

Charboneau. "We were jammed into one room with one bed. It was a place that made you really want to get to the big leagues."

Charboneau said he and his wife looked at the roster nearly every night, trying to figure out how he could make the Opening Day roster. Cliff Johnson showed up with a broken finger, supposedly unloading a barrel of oats from a truck. Suddenly, he was out as DH. But there still seemed to be two or three players ahead of him.

"I had never made any money and never had any money," he said. "Part of me always thought I could play in the big leagues, but I remember when I first saw my name and my number 34 on that uniform in the clubhouse. I couldn't believe it was really for me, that I really could make it."

The Indians had two intrasquad games, and Charboneau opened with seven consecutive hits, including a 400-foot homer. By the first exhibition game, he was officially being hyped as a phenom by the star-starved Cleveland media, picking up the Super Joe nickname.

Charboneau said he was making $34 a day in meal money. Two weeks into the spring, former Tribe minor-league director Bob Quinn found an apartment for the young family so they could cook some of their own meals.

Charboneau continue to slash line drives all spring, often in morning "B" games where statistics were not kept. He also had a strange incident when the team was playing in Mexico City. A fan asked him for his autograph, and as Charboneau reached for the pen, the man stabbed Charboneau in the side with a Bic.

It was just a flesh wound, and the man was fined $2.27 and released.
Things like that always happened to Charboneau, who recovered and then secured a spot on the roster when Andre Thornton suffered a major knee injury at the end of training camp.

In 1980, he batted .289 (.846 OPS) with 23 homers and 87 RBI while being voted American League Rookie of the Year. The next spring, he slid into second base and suffered a back injury. It was the first of many. Charboneau said he's had several surgeries, removing parts or all of "five of my disks, we have back problems in our family."

He played only 70 more games in the majors after 1980.
Charboneau made $21,000 as a rookie. The next season, he signed a $75,000 contract, but a strike wiped out part of the season -- and he pocketed about $40,000. That's the most he ever made in baseball.

His son, Tyson, has a college degree and manages the Tattoo and Body Anthology in North Olmsted. His daughter, Dannon, is a registered nurse. Cindy has battled multiple sclerosis for years and is often in a wheelchair. Charboneau has been a local celebrity; he coached in the independent Frontier League for 10 years and also worked in North Ridgeville for the recreation department.
"I love Cleveland," he said. "The city and the fans have been great to me and my family. I'm always thankful for the one good, healthy year. And I'd tell those guys in camp with the Indians to make the most of it right now -- you never know how long it will last."

Indians primed for turnaround

Monday, January 19, 2009 | Feedback | Print Entry

The Cleveland Indians opened the 2008 season with a payroll of just under $80 million, so while they aren't the Florida Marlins, they aren't in anywhere near the class of the Yankees or the Tigers or the Mets or the Red Sox. They're stuck right in the middle, and have to have middle-class sensibilities. They don't necessarily need or want the priciest baubles in the room, but they do have a little money to spend.
And this winter, they seemingly have spent well, targeting their needs, making a couple of trades that have been deemed by rivals as nice deals. "As much as I don't believe in feeling good about winter accomplishments," said Indians general manager Mark Shapiro, "I do feel good about it."

They didn't get the most expensive closer on the market, Francisco Rodriguez, but they got a good closer, on a relatively short-term deal. Kerry Wood struck out 84 and walked just 18 in 66.1 innings and converted 34 of 40 save chances last season, good enough to make the NL All-Star team. Yes, there is risk with Wood -- but it's a short-term risk, of two years, and potentially a high reward. He could be the best of the second-tier closers in the league.

If he has some hiccups, or he gets hurt, the Indians have a lot of depth again in their bullpen, a lot of options for Eric Wedge -- Rafael Perez, who whiffed 86 in 76.1 innings last year; Rafael Betancourt, from whom the Indians need a bounce-back season; Jensen Lewis, who filled in nicely as closer in the second half last season, going 13-for-13 in save chances after the All-Star break; Joe Smith, acquired as part of the three-team deal that ended with J.J. Putz going to the Mets.

The wild card of the bullpen bunch is Adam Miller, who has had trouble staying injury-free but has the talent to develop into one of the league's best set-up men if he can stay healthy. If you think this is far-fetched, well, remember that three years ago today, you probably had never heard of Joel Zumaya, and two years ago today, you'd probably never heard of Joba Chamberlain, and a year ago, you didn't know the name of Jose Arredondo. That's just how bullpens can be sometimes: You throw talent at a wall, and sometimes, you get great results, and the Indians are hopeful that could be the case with Adam Miller.

The Indians' lineup has more depth than it did a year ago, more length. So far, Travis Hafner is feeling good in his rehabilitation from shoulder surgery, informing the front office that the feels much better, like the difference between day and night. He has also hired a personal chef and worked on his nutrition. "Kind of a dual approach," said Shapiro. "He's lost some weight."

It has been awhile since Hafner has been a dominant offensive force: In 2006, he hit 42 homers, drew 100 walks and drove in 117 runs in 129 games. Since then, he's played 209 games and totaled 29 homers, 129 walks and 124 RBIs. It's possible, of course, that he might not rebound.

But the Indians are much more equipped to handle a falloff from slugger than they were a year ago. Their lineup, in the mind of a rival GM, starts with "one of the three best players in the game," in Grady Sizemore, and Victor Martinez is fully healthy again, as he prepares for a major shift in his time behind home plate. It's possible that Kelly Shoppach, who hit 21 homers with a solid .348 OBP last season in 352 at-bats, will catch as many as 70 games, with Martinez playing a whole lot of games at first base. The Indians finished seventh among 30 teams in runs scored last season, despite all that they did not have -- a productive and healthy Hafner, a healthy Martinez, and Mark DeRosa, who was acquired in a recent trade with the Cubs to play third base. And they might also get a boost from the primary piece they received in the CC Sabathia trade with Milwaukee, outfielder Matt LaPorta.

There is concern at the back end of the rotation, behind Cliff Lee and Fausto Carmona; they need Aaron Laffey or Jeremy Sowers to take a step forward, and could greatly benefit from a solid recovery from Carl Pavano.

But there is a margin for error in the AL Central that there is not in the AL East, because the Tigers really haven't made many changes, and neither have the White Sox or the Royals or the Twins. The Indians went into 2008 with great expectations that were quickly taken down by a poor start, but they have reason to feel good about their chances, again.

Am I going to miss Greg Maddux - ESPN

Am I going to miss Greg Maddux? Are you kidding? I couldn't stand the guy.

First of all, he wasn't greedy enough. He signed for only $75,000 after the Chicago Cubs selected him with the 31st pick of the 1984 amateur draft. No messy holdouts. No nothing. And get this: He actually reported to Pikeville of the Appalachian League that season. For $175 a week. Loser.
He wasn't brash enough. The guy made his major league starting debut near the end of the 1986 season. The Cubs stunk, but the 20-year-old Maddux threw a complete-game victory. Hadn't been done by a Cub that young since 1966. He also got two hits and ended a seven-game Cubs losing streak. Instead of popping off about his big day, Maddux told reporters, "I'm kind of awestruck now."

He wasn't intimidating enough. When the dinky Maddux first reported from Triple-A Iowa, the Cubs didn't know whether he was a player or there for Father-Son Day. "He's a good competitor and he's fun to watch," minor league coach Jim Colborn told the Chicago Tribune, "especially knowing he's just finished his paper route a couple of years ago."

He wasn't quotable enough. You can list the number of great Maddux on-the-record quotes on the back of a Sweet'N Low packet. He was polite. He was pleasant. But mostly he shrugged his shoulders a lot.

He wasn't controversial enough. Would it have killed him to get caught carrying, say, a semi-automatic weapon, just once? Some sort of drug charge would have been nice. And is it asking too much to maybe oversee a money-laundering ring? But, no, not Maddux.

He wasn't narcissistic enough. Even when he was winning four Cy Young Awards in a row or walking into the clubhouse the day after his 300th career victory, you never saw Maddux with a posse, entourage or security detail. Wait! There were those times when he brought his two kids to the ballpark.

He wasn't ill-prepared enough. In 1996, just before Maddux and the Atlanta Braves faced the New York Yankees in the World Series, pitching coach Leo Mazzone met with his starters and relievers and read them the detailed scouting reports. Maddux raised his hand after Mazzone read the report on Yankees slugger Bernie Williams.

"That report is not correct," Maddux said. "I've been watching film of Williams for two weeks, and that report is not correct."

"Did everybody hear that?" Mazzone said.
The Braves pitchers nodded.

"Well, then the hell with this report," Mazzone said. "We go with what Mad Dog says."
Williams hit .167 in the Series.

He wasn't serious enough. Jimmy Farrell, who was the longtime umpires room attendant at Wrigley Field, told me about the time he asked a young Maddux to wiggle his ear if he reached base on a hit. The Cubs went on the road, so Farrell and his wife, Eleanor, watched the game at home that night. Sure enough, Maddux got a hit.
"He's not gonna do it, Jimmy," Eleanor said.

"You watch," Farrell said.

Maddux stood at first base. And then wiggled his ear.

"We just about fell off the couch laughing," Farrell told me.

He wasn't aloof enough. You'd think a guy with more wins than any living player (355) would keep to himself. But when I saw him this past March at spring training with the San Diego Padres, Maddux was doing his usual thing: working the clubhouse, cracking wise with vets and rookies, recruiting players for one of his golf pools. Same sort of thing happened when I saw him near the end of the season. He was a Los Angeles Dodger by then, but he was sitting in the dugout trading jokes with teammate Derek Lowe.

He wasn't one-dimensional enough. After a while you really got tired of watching him earn Gold Gloves (18 of them -- nobody has more), lay down perfect sacrifice bunts, or even steal bases. The nerve.

He didn't listen well enough. Colborn said back in 1986: "He's not a strikeout pitcher, and he probably won't ever win 25 or 30 games in the big leagues. But he should have a good big-league career." Maddux, who just had to make Colborn look bad, finished his career ranked 10th all-time in strikeouts.

He wasn't buff enough. Didn't he get the memo about steroids? Sammy Sosa had nose hairs with more muscle tone than Maddux. Maddux had a bit of a paunch. I'm not sure he could bench press a fungo bat.

He wasn't flashy enough. After Maddux won No. 300, reporters asked how he'd celebrate. "I don't know," he said. "I'll do something." What, take the family to Pizza Hut?
He wasn't into legacies enough. He once said he actually valued pitching 200-plus innings per season more than the wins. And if you asked him about the Hall of Fame, you usually wouldn't get much on the subject. But his former teammate Glendon Rusch once told me, "In my opinion, he's a first-ballot, 100-percent-of-the-votes Hall of Famer."
He wasn't unprofessional enough. Maddux probably could have squeezed another season and paycheck out of that 42-year-old right arm of his. Others would have taken the money. But not Mr. Integrity.

Nope. Won't miss him at all.
Until spring training 2009.
Gene Wojciechowski is a senior national columnist for ESPN.com. You can contact him at gene.wojciechowski@espn3.com.

No Bitterness in Herb Score

Terry Pluto: No bitterness in Herb Score
by Terry Pluto Plain Dealer Columnist

Thursday November 13, 2008, 11:05 PM

It was a hot spring- training day in Tucson, Ariz., about 25 years ago when Herb Score and I were talking about a pitcher who had said he planned to quit near the prime of his career.
"I think you should play until they tear the uniform off your back and tell you that you can't play anymore," said the Indians' broadcaster. "That's what I did."

It happened in 1963, when he was at Class AAA Indianapolis. He was still trying to come back from an eye injury -- that resulted from a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald on May 7, 1957 -- and later, arm problems.

Score told me, "There's nothing better than playing."

He quickly said he was grateful to be the Indians' radio voice. He said in some ways, the injuries that cut his playing career short at age 30 became a blessing because it opened a door to broadcasting.

"I've done this longer than I ever could have played," he said of what became his 34 years on air.
When Score died Tuesday at the age of 75, I thought of his dignity and patience. I thought of the times he signed autograph after autograph. I thought of how he was asked thousands of times, "How's the eye?"

"Fine," Score would say, often with a smile.

Or sometimes, a fan would say, "It's too bad about the eye, you could have been one of the great ones."

The former Indians pitcher would politely thank the fan.

It seemed as if he had separated himself from the injuries, that he didn't realize what was lost. In his first two Tribe seasons, he had a 36-19 record and led the American League in strikeouts.
Yes, Score knew how good he was at age 23, and how he was destined for greatness. But he rarely talked about his own career, except to make fun of his problems as a hitter. If pushed, he'd insist that it was elbow problems -- not the eye injury -- that ended his career. Being a man meant dealing with the cards life dealt.

It meant doing your job and not whining. It meant dressing well, as he always did with sharp suits, and every hair on his head seemed in place and never needed to be cut. It meant being a class act, as men of his generation would say.

On the air, Score seldom criticized players or managers. But he was a close friend of several Tribe managers and front-office types. They felt free to tell him their frustrations and dreams, and Score never broke a confidence, never engaged in trashy gossip.

General managers such as Gabe Paul and Phil Seghi asked his opinions on players, and Score had strong ones. He didn't express them on the air, but he did in private to those with the Indians who wanted to know.

I had a taste of that side of Score just once, when mentioning a Tribe pitcher whom I thought was having a good season.

Score stopped me and said, "Unless your ERA is under 3.00, you really are not doing your job."
He then backed off a bit, saying that was how the great ones from his era performed, and the game had changed.

At the time of this conversation, I was in my middle 20s, a baseball writer for The Plain Dealer. Score supplied the soundtrack for the Indian summers of my youth. My father spoke reverently about how Score would have been a Hall of Fame pitcher.

I was always somewhat awed how Score treated me as a peer, how he always remembered my wife and asked about Roberta by name. I remember how Score could have could have been bitter, but instead, he made all of us who spent time with him better for it

Herb Score Dies at 75

Herb Score's life in baseball was a combination of tragedy and success.

Score died Tuesday morning at age 75 at his home in Rocky River after a lengthy illness, the Indians confirmed.

He was a brilliant Tribe pitcher whose baseball career virtually was ended at age 23 when he was hit in the right eye by a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald of the New York Yankees on May7, 1957.

Then he became a Cleveland sportscasting institution, calling Indians games on radio and television for 34 years, longer than anybody else in the city's baseball history.
He gained a loyal following, although he did not have the greatest voice or elocution. He was like a favorite uncle who talked baseball.

"For me, broadcasting the game is like sitting in the stands talking to the fellow sitting next to me," he said.

Still, to those who had seen his talent on the mound, it was comparable to Napoleon becoming a war correspondent.

"He was a great pitcher," said his close friend, former Indians right fielder Rocky Colavito from his home in Bernville, Pa. "He had a chance at becoming as good a lefty as there ever was. He had that kind of stuff. He had hard knocks, but he never complained. You had to respect him for that. I loved him like a brother."

"[Hall of Fame hitter] Ted Williams said he had the best fastball of any left-hander he ever faced," the late Ken Coleman, a onetime Indians sportscaster, once said from his home outside Boston.

When Score stepped on the Cleveland Municipal Stadium pitching mound on the night that changed his life, he appeared to be headed for baseball greatness.

ROOKIE OF THE YEAR

The lefty was the American League Rookie of the Year in 1955, when he won 16 and lost 10 for the Indians. Score received 18 of the 24 votes from the voters. "It's the biggest thrill of my life," he said. "I'm deeply honored."

He had struck out 245 batters, a rookie record that stood for 29 years, until Dwight Gooden broke it with the New York Mets in an era of wild swingers. He was the first first-year pitcher to reach 200 since Grover Cleveland Alexander did it 44 years earlier.

The next year he was even better, going 20-9 and leading the league in strikeouts for the second straight year. Some observers said his fastball was the equal of Hall of Famer Bob Feller, the Clevelander who was considered the hardest thrower of his time. He also had a fine curve.
"They didn't have a radar gun then to measure speed," Colavito said. "But I think he threw 100 miles an hour."

Colavito compared Score with Sandy Koufax, considered by many to be the best lefty in modern baseball history. "Koufax didn't win 20 until he was 27," Colavito said. "Herb did it at 23."
Score projected an image of immense force on the mound. He seemed to throw a baseball that was as heavy as a rock.

He was showered with compliments from everywhere and everyone.

"If nothing happens to this kid, he's going to be one of the best who ever pitched," said former Indians hero Tris Speaker, player/manager on Cleveland's 1920 world champions.
"You took one look at him and you had one thought: Hall of Fame," McDougald said.

RED SOX BID
In spring training of 1957, the Boston Red Sox offered to buy Score for $1 million, an astronomical sum at a time when entire ball clubs were being sold for $4 million.

"We wouldn't sell him for $2 million," said then-Indians General Manager Hank Greenberg.
Al Lopez, who managed the Indians in Score's first two seasons, had a frightening prediction for opponents. "Wait until he puts on some weight," he said. "He'll get even better." The 6-2 youngster was still only about 185 pounds.

It all came apart on that fateful night in 1957, when Score pitched against the Yankees. He had beaten the world champions three times in a row dating back to the previous season, making them look like helpless beginners, even with Hall of Famers Mickey Mantle and Yogi Berra in the lineup.

McDougald, the second batter of the game, reached for a low pitch and lined it back at Score. The ball crashed into his face, breaking his nose, cutting his right eyelid and causing swelling and hemorrhaging of the cheekbone and eyebrow.

Third baseman Al Smith picked up the carom and threw McDougald out at first.
Score was knocked to the ground, bleeding profusely. He was immediately surrounded by teammates and Yankees players.

"I didn't see the ball until it was a foot or two from my face," said Score, who threw with an uninhibited motion in which his body turned his back to the batter. Sometimes he turned so hard he expected that he might eventually get hit on the back.

"I could feel the blood," said the pitcher, who never lost consciousness. "People were all around me. Rocky must have set a record getting in from right field." Colavito was Score's roommate and best friend. They had come up through the minor leagues together.

Teammate Vic Wertz, playing first base, rushed over, then retreated when he saw the blood.
"Everybody was shoving towels at me," Score said. "I even got one in the mouth. I almost choked on it."

Score remained surprisingly calm. Minutes after the accident, he joked to good friend Mike "Big Bear" Garcia, an Indians pitcher, "Well, Bear, you can't say I didn't keep my eye on the ball."
Score was sitting on a trainers table in the Indians clubhouse when Colavito peeked in to see how he was doing. "What are you doing here?" the pitcher said. "Get out there and get me a couple of base hits."

HOSPITALIZED

Score was taken to Lakeside Hospital, his head wrapped in bandages as though he had suffered a war wound. He felt numb at the hospital. "I didn't hurt much, but I didn't sleep much," he told The Plain Dealer.

He listened to most of the game on radio as Bob Lemon came in to pitch a 2-1 victory over the Yankees. Lemon had been given as much time as he needed to warm up after the mishap.
It was not the first time Score had suffered a serious injury. When he was 3 years old, he was hit by a bakery truck, and both legs were nearly crushed above the knees. It was feared he might never walk, but he recovered.

He had severe cases of pneumonia, rheumatic fever and appendicitis as a youngster. When he was in the minors he suffered a broken ankle and dislocated collarbone.

Score was kept in a darkened room at the hospital. "He amazes me with his courage," said Greenberg. "His spirits are certainly good."

McDougald, who was in tears after the game, tried to see him the next day, along with teammates Berra and Hank Bauer, but the hospital did not permit visitors.

There were fears Score might be blinded in the right eye. Dr. Charles I. Thomas, a Cleveland eye specialist, offered hope that would not happen. "He has light perception," the doctor said.
From then on, there was constant newspaper speculation on Score's possible return to pitching. One optimistic report said he would be back on July 15. But he still had a problem with depth perception. He could not tell if a ball was three or 30 feet away.

After a few months, the Indians said Score would be out the rest of the year.
He and Nancy had planned to be married at the end of the season. With baseball out of the picture, they wed in midseason. The couple settled in Rocky River and eventually had four children, Judy, Mary, Susan and David.

Score, looking ahead to 1958, exercised to stay in shape. He played racquetball with good friend Coleman, who defeated the pitcher at first. "When he began to beat me, I knew he was over the hump," Coleman said. "He hit the ball so hard he broke one in half."

Score returned to the mound with much fanfare in '58, but he had only a 2-2 record when he was put on the disabled list with a sore elbow on July 18. "There's two years shot," he said ruefully.

CHANGED MOTION

Joe Gordon, the new Indians manager, speculated that Score was unconsciously favoring his arm. In later years, McDougald and Lemon both said that Score had changed his pitching motion. They felt he was recoiling, not following through with the abandon of old.

Score always maintained that the McDougald accident had nothing to do with his decline. He attributed his problem to the sore arm.

He still could summon the old brilliance from time to time. Gordon started him in the 1959 home opener, and Score beat Detroit, 8-1, getting 19 outs in a row and striking out nine.

"He looks like my stopper," Gordon said.

Score managed to win nine games and lose five before the All Star break that year, but he was not pitching with the old dominance. He did not win another game that season, finishing 9-11 as the Indians wound up second.

On April 18, 1960, a day after he traded fan idol Colavito, General Manager Frank Lane sent Score to the Chicago White Sox for pitcher Barry Latman.

Score could not find the answers in Chicago, going 5-10 in 1960. The last victory of his career came in early 1961, when he hurled a magnificent game against the Indians, throwing a two-hitter and striking out 13 at Comiskey Park.

Then, the old problems returned. Lopez, now the White Sox leader, optioned him to San Diego of the Pacific Coast League. "Tell me, Al," said Score. "Do you think I should quit?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Lopez replied. "You're not as fast as you used to be, but you're still faster than most, and you have a better curve than most pitchers. But you're not getting the ball over." He had 24 walks in 24 innings, along with a 6.66 earned-run average.
In 1963, Score was pitching for Indianapolis, an Indians farm team, when Indians General Manager Gabe Paul told the popular Coleman to choose between working Tribe games or Browns games. Coleman had been calling the games of both teams for 10 years, but Paul disliked seeing Coleman miss an Indians game because the Browns were playing the same day.
Coleman chose the Browns, and an Indians TV job opened up.

Paul presented Indians publicist Nate Wallack with a list of potential candidates to replace Coleman. Wallack looked at the list and said, "There's one fellow you haven't thought of, and I think he'd ring the bell. Herb Score."

Paul immediately agreed.

Late in September 1963, Score teamed with veteran Bob Neal on two Indians telecasts. They were widely regarded as a 1964 tryout for Score, then 30.

"This is a fine opportunity," he said. "I've always wanted to stay in baseball when my playing ended, and I'd like nothing better than to stay in Cleveland."

It was the start of a broadcasting career that made him a Cleveland fixture for more than three decades. Score was paired with Neal on TV in 1964, then with Harry Jones for three years. In 1968, he joined Neal on radio, replacing legendary Jimmy Dudley.

Score worked on radio for the rest of his career, partnering with Neal (1968-72), Joe Tait (1973-79), Nev Chandler (1980-84), Steve Lamar (1985-87), Paul Olden (1988-89) and Tom Hamilton (1990-97.)

"I'm lucky to have worked with pros who never tried to show up my lack of professional polish," Score said. "They fed me the right lines and taught me."

Neal, one of the great sportscasting talents in Cleveland history, advised him, "You're never going to please everybody. If you can please 50 percent, you're in good shape."
Score would get plenty of mail from listeners. "One listener will say you root too much," he said in 1974. "The next one will say you praise the visiting team too much. The main thing is to be myself."

EXCITED ANNOUNCER

Score's assets were his intelligence, good taste and enthusiasm. Even when the Indians were in their depths in the 1970s, he would get excited about games and good plays. "I don't like to make fun of a player or knock a player," he said. "But if I feel he should have made a catch, I'll say so."
Indians infielder Buddy Bell made a classic quote on Score in 1977. "Herb is such a nice guy, he probably makes his bed in his hotel room in the morning," Bell said.

To Score, the games were everything. "I don't like to talk too much," he said. "Fans want to know about the game, not what you did in the afternoon." He listed Cleveland pitcher Lenny Barker's perfect game in 1981 as his most memorable broadcast.

Score liked to joke about himself, recalling that when he first started broadcasting, he took diction lessons to smooth out his New York accent and pronunciation. He was advised to listen to a tape of himself. He did and promptly fell asleep.

He thoroughly enjoyed his job. "When I go to the Happy Hunting Ground, I hope I go from here," he said in 1977. "I hope this job lasts forever."

Score refused to feel sorry for himself and disliked sympathetic articles that pictured him as a victim because of McDougald's liner. "I'm a lucky fellow," he said. "I'm glad God gave me the ability to throw a baseball well for a few years. That drive could have killed me."

The solitude of the road suited him. "If we have an off-day, it's nothing for me to go to my room and read all day," he said. "After a game, I often go to the room and read." His favorite authors were Robert Ludlum and Sidney Sheldon.

He enjoyed the restaurants around the league. "That's why I run," he said. "So I can eat all I want." Score jogged about four miles a day, five times a week. He would usually do his running early in the morning, while others on the team were still asleep.

Until he was in his 40s, he often pitched batting practice to the Indians. "I'm a great BP pitcher," he said. "Now I realize I was throwing BP the last few years of my career."

Score almost lost his job in 1973, when team owner Nick Mileti announced he wanted a complete change of announcers. When it was learned Score might go off the air, Mileti was deluged with angry mail. "I never realized Herb had such a following," Mileti said, signing him to a new contract.

The Plain Dealer said listening to Score was like listening to an old friend

HERB'S ERRORS

As the years went on, his fans savored Score's occasional mistakes, such as the time he shouted, "It's a long drive. Is it fair? Is it foul? It is." When you are speaking a million words a season, you are bound to make an error from time to time

Sometimes he would forget what park he was in. After all, they are basically alike. "Hi, everybody," he said once. "This is Herb Score coming to you from Milwaukee County Stadium." A silence followed, in which it was obvious someone was correcting him.

"What," exclaimed Score, "Oh, Chicago's Comiskey Park. No wait a minute. I'll get this right. Kansas City's Royals Stadium."

Then there was the time he said at the end of an inning, "Two runs, three hits, one error, and after three, we're still scoreless."

Score's youngest daughter, Susan, who had Down syndrome, died in 1994 of heart problems. She had been in supportive living arrangements since infancy, and Score became a strong advocate and fund-raiser for one such facility, Our Lady of the Wayside.

Score retired at 64, after the Indians lost the World Series to Florida in 1997. "It's just time," he said. He almost never came to Jacobs Field, now Progressive Field, after that. He had been with the Indians, as a player or announcer, for almost 6,000 games.

CAR ACCIDENT

On Oct. 8, 1998, Score was almost killed in a car accident. He had been inducted into the Broadcasting Hall of Fame the previous night in Akron, then left the hotel early that morning to drive to Florida. He was alone in his Buick Riviera when he pulled into the path of a tractor-trailer in New Philadelphia, about 80 miles south of Cleveland.

The news report said he suffered bruises to the brain and lungs, face cuts, a broken bone above an eye and three broken ribs. He was unconscious and put on a ventilator. He was pronounced in critical but stable condition at Aultman Hospital, Canton.

Score was inducted into the Press Club of Cleveland Journalism Hall of Fame the next month, but could not attend the ceremony. He recovered in time to throw out the first pitch of the Indians home season in April 1999. He was being treated by a speech therapist at the time. In 2000 he had hip replacement surgery. In 2002 he was still taking physical therapy.

Bud Shaw: Indians broadcaster Herb Score was Cleveland baseball
by Bud Shaw/Plain Dealer Columnist
Tuesday November 11, 2008, 7:22 PM

Herb Score's voice was a whisper the last time I saw him. He needed a walker to get around. His legs were a mosaic of bruises and blotches.

"I'm lucky," he said that July day in 2006, a week before he would make his final public appearance at Jacobs Field.

He didn't mean lucky to have had a brilliant-if-brief major-league career or lucky for 34 years in the Indians' broadcast booth. Or lucky for the coming induction in the Cleveland Indians Hall of Fame with his great friend and old roommate, Rocky Colavito.

He glanced toward the door where his wife, Nancy, was greeting a visitor.
"Lucky to have Nancy?" I asked.
He nodded.

Herb Score's strength was his faith and family, for sure. But it was also his vision. He never looked back, especially not to ask, "Why me?" during a difficult, sometimes hellish, final decade of his life.

The man who symbolized Indians baseball for so many years when everything else about the team changed except its record of futility died at home early Tuesday with his wife and family at his side. He was 75.

"A great example of how to live your life," Tom Hamilton said Tuesday of his friend and former broadcast partner. "When I think of how he treated me -- I mean here was this baseball icon stuck with this dumb farm boy from Wisconsin -- and he made me feel comfortable from Day 1. . . . For 30 years, he was the best thing about Indians baseball."

Score never saw it that way. He didn't understand why showing up every day to do your job was such a big deal, particularly his job.

"I don't look upon this as work," he said when he announced in 1997 that he would retire after the season.

It's why the first spring training game he announced hardly sounded different than the last game he did, the crushing Game 7 loss to the Marlins in the '97 World Series.

He did his first TV game in 1964, moved to radio in 1968, missed one -- one -- game between then and 1994 when the passing of his daughter, Susan, forced his absence from the booth. His motto: Fans should remember what happened in the game, not what he said.

"It was never about him," said Hamilton. "And in our business, that's quite an exception."

Remembering the game and not something Score said wasn't always cut and dried. There were so many nondescript games until the Indians changed the culture of a city beginning in 1994. And, well, he had his memorable broadcast moments, too.

His bloopers became terms of endearment with fans, in a sense strengthening his connection with listeners. With Score, it was easy to forgive a botched call -- "Is it fair? Is it foul? It is!"

So many players came and went. Referring to Indians reliever Efrain Valdez one time as Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (the star of the TV show "The F.B.I."), well, you try keeping them all straight.
The even-keeled Score and the emotional Hamilton made perfect partners for eight seasons.

Everyone, Hamilton included, was rooting for Score as the magic of the 1997 postseason unfolded. He deserved to see a World Series champ. The Indians would return a contender in 1998, no matter what happened. Score would not be back.

"The only time I saw a different Herb was when Tony Fernandez hit that home run against Baltimore," Hamilton said of the 11th-inning home run in the '97 ALCS. "Herb got up out of his chair when he made that call. You knew then how much that must've meant."

Listeners didn't see that. But they heard it in Score's voice when he said, "The Indians are going to the World Series." And they couldn't possibly have minded the pause and the clarification that was necessary since the Orioles had one final at-bat remaining: "Maybe."

They did go. And when that trip ended in disappointment, Score didn't show his. Just like always, he ended his part of the final broadcast by throwing it to Hamilton for the postgame wrapup.

That was that. No sappy remembrances. No suggestion that he had left any bigger tracks behind as an intimate guest in the living room of Indians fans for three decades than a summer temp might've.

We know the difference even if he didn't. Hamilton says he doesn't believe Score ever really understood how much people respected him and adored him. A generation of Indians fans knew him as one of the greatest pitching talents in baseball history, the American League Rookie of the Year in 1955 whose rookie strikeout mark (245) stood until the New York Mets' Dwight Gooden came along in 1984.

The affection came in part from seeing his career viciously interrupted by the line drive off the bat of the New York Yankees' Gil McDougald in 1957 that nearly blinded Score. But it also stemmed from how he never wallowed in self-pity. Not then. Not after a car accident that nearly killed him in 1998.

The last decade of his life was filled with unrelenting challenges.

The accident. A stroke. Surgery. Staph infection. A bout with pneumonia. And the extended hospital stay that preceded his death Tuesday. It was difficult to watch for those who loved him, and everyone who knew him loved him.

Even those who knew the voice better than they knew the man appreciated his understated class and his knowledge of the game.

In 1995, when the Indians were clearly ending decades of ineptitude with a truly special season, legendary Detroit Tigers broadcaster Ernie Harwell said, "Herb deserves this."
"I don't deserve it," Score said when told of Harwell's words. "The city deserves it."
It was a small quibble. Cleveland baseball. Herb Score. Same thing.

Top Five Herb Score Memories - Bill Livingston

Herb was the "Voice of the Indians" on either TV or radio from1964-97. He didn't sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" like Harry Caray or cry "How about that?" like Mel Allen. He didn't root like Phil Rizzuto and he never quoted from the "Song of Solomon" about the "Song of the Turtle(dove)" like Ernie Harwell. But the Old Lefthander taught us a thing or two about the game and left us with a thousand or two great memories.

5. Listening to Herbie, you never knew if the Indians were winning or losing. He never screamed, "The Indians win the pennant!" (even when they did, twice). He never let the team's 41 years in the wilderness or the losing get him down. Herbie knew you played to win the game, each day, every day, with a purity of effort and tightness of focus, long before Herm Edwards made that a rallying cry in the NFL.

4. He was the voice of summer in Northeast Ohio. Through all the player trades, the failed saviors, the under-funded owners, Score was always there, the soothing voice of a franchise that was fortunate to associate with him.

3. He knew the game. Whenever a controversy arose or a rhubarb broke out, Herbie was quick to tell us what it was all about.

2. He never blamed the end of his career on his eye injury, or the arm he hurt after he came back. "I lost my job because I quit pitching well," he said.

1. Herb never forgot how hard the game is to play. It was a rare and especially egregious blunder that would cause Score to criticize a player on the air.

Ten Inexactly Expressed Sentiments from Herb Score

Then again, he wouldn't be Herbie without the head-scratching malapropisms and endearing vagueness.

10. Herb often had trouble distinguishing between Oakland platoon catchers Mickey Tettleton and Terry Steinbach. During one game when the former was at bat, Herb called him "Mickey Tettlebach."

9. Carl Yastrzemski came to bat in his last game at Fenway Park against the Tribe in 1983, moving Herb to say: "A standing ovation here from the fans in Baltimore for their hero." Then he added: "Yaz played 23 years for the Orioles."

8. Once during the days when Score partnered in the booth with Steve Lamarr, Herb ended a broadcast with: "This is Steve Lamarr, signing off for Herb Score. Good night, Tribe fans."

7. When a player was on a hot hitting streak, Herb said: "He is 24 for his last 49, and even I know that is over .500."

6. With the Indians leading Baltimore, three-games-to-two and the sixth game in extra innings in the 1997 ALCS, Tony Fernandez homered in the top of the 11th inning to give the Tribe a 1-0 lead. Said Score: "And the Indians are going to the World Series - maybe!"

5. When a pitcher was working from the stretch, Score offered: "The pitcher checks the runner on first. I beg your pardon, there is no runner on first."

4. On a double down the line, Herb said: "It's fair. It's foul. It is."

3. With Esteban Yan warming up, Herb identified him as "Ron Jantz" (pronounced, Yontz), a local weekend sports anchor.

2. With Efrain Valdez stalking in from the bullpen, Score identified him as "Efrem Zimbalist Jr."

1. This one requires a little backstory: The Indians, who had played in Kansas City the night before, were in Milwaukee, and next were headed for Boston. After a night of conviviality that included a libation or two with old friends but no sleep, Score arrived in the booth feeling well south of the fair-weather line. Partner Nev Chandler did the first inning, in which the Royals took a 2-0 lead. A game, but outgunned Herbie, called a six-pitch Tribe top of the second, the brevity of which kept him from getting into any rhythm. He then said: "And, after one-and-a-half innings, the score is: Kansas City two, Indians nothing."

A check of the outfield revealed no waterfall behind the center field fence, so Score nimbly recovered and said: "I beg your pardon. We are not in Kansas City. We are in Boston. And the score is: Red Sox two, Tribe nothing." A further check of the surroundings revealed no Green Monster in left.

"What city are we in, Nev?" asked Herbie, amiably.

"Milwaukee, Herb," Chandler replied, sotto voce.

"And the score is: Brewers two, Tribe nothing," Score concluded triumphantly.
When the Indians returned home at the end of the road trip, General Manager Phil Seghi asked Chandler before the game: "Does Herb know he's in Cleveland?"

Cleveland Indians broadcaster Tom Hamilton says Herb Score was "a great partner"
by Paul Hoynes

There were 20 seconds left in the timeout between innings during the 1997 Indians season. Herb Score turned to his partner, Tom Hamilton, and said, 'Oh, by the way, Tom, this is going to be my last year.' "

With that, Herb Score put on his headset, looked down on the field and told the radio audience, "Here's the wind and the pitch. . ."

Hamilton laughed about that because it was so typical of Score, the longtime Indians broadcaster who died Tuesday morning at his Rocky River home. He was 75.

No muss, no fuss, just get on with the game.

"He was the most unpretentious person I've ever known," said Hamilton. "It was never about Herbie. It was always about the game."

Score and Hamilton did the Indians radio broadcasts together from 1990 through 1997, the year Score retired. Hamilton moved into Score's chair after that.

"We couldn't have been more polar opposites," said Hamilton. "He was sophisticated and had been in the big leagues forever. I was a dumb farm boy from Wisconsin, who had worked his way to Columbus. But he treated me as an equal even though I was never on his level.

"I'm sure there were plenty of times he wanted to wring my neck for something I said in the booth, but he never criticized me. He was very subtle when he gave you advice."

When Hamilton went to spring training in Tucson, Ariz., to cover the Indians in 1990, he thought they were going to take the American League by storm. Hard to blame him because he'd never been to a big-league camp before.

Halfway through spring training, Score talked to him.
"Herb tells me, 'Look, this isn't a very good team, but you can't let that affect how you do a ball game,' said Hamilton. "Every game has to be treated equally.' It was the best advice I've ever gotten.

"It's easy to broadcast for a team that's going to win 100 games and go to the World Series. But if you listened to Herb, there was no difference in the way he did games in 1990 than in 1995 when we reached the World Series. Herbie felt that you treated every game as equally as possible because that night you could see something you've never seen before."

The 1990 Indians, for the record, went 77-85.

Four teams now call Tucson home for spring training. When the Indians trained there, they were the only one. It made for a lot of long rides to Phoenix and beyond to play Cactus League games.
Hamilton was a frequent passenger of Score's.

"That's because Herbie got the (rental) car and I didn't," laughed Hamilton.
During the drives, Score listened to Frank Sinatra, much to Hamilton's dismay.

"I think I know every word to every Frank Sinatra song there is," said Hamilton. "I even started to like him. I think Herb may have done that just so he wouldn't have had to listen to me."
Hamilton knew he was working with a Cleveland legend. Score was the AL Rookie of the Year for the Indians in 1955. He just wasn't sure Score knew.

"For so long, until we got good in 1994, Herb was the best thing the Indians had going," said Hamilton. "He was the one constant. Owners, general managers and players all came and went. Herbie never left. He was a star here, and he stayed here. That's why he was such an icon, but he never sought that out.

"He was a great partner. I felt very lucky to get the Indians job, but I never realized how lucky I was to have Herbie as a partner. He was a great teacher and mentor."

Hamilton said he learned something about baseball every day working with Score.
"I can't tell you how many times writers would come into the booth and say, 'What was that all about, Herbie?' " said Hamilton. "He usually knew what was going to happen two innings before it happened.

"He never pontificated about it in the booth, but he knew the game so well. I think he could have been a general manager, or anything he wanted to be in the game."

Hamilton stayed close to Score and his family after his retirement. In 1998, Score was almost killed in a car accident and never fully recovered.

Early Tuesday morning, Hamilton received a call from Score's wife, Nancy, telling him that Herb had died.

"To me, Herb and Nancy epitomized grace and style," said Hamilton. "They'd walk into a room, and every head would turn. Just a tremendous family."

Tuesday November 11, 2008, 5:38 PM

Here's how to break a 33 year record and win 20 games!

Cliff's still rock steady: Tribe's Lee breezes through the Royals for 21st victory
by Paul Hoynes

Sunday September 07, 2008, 7:45 PM

KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- Cliff Lee didn't know who his next opponent would be. It's part of the veil of solitude he's pulled over himself this season.

When told it would be the same Kansas City team that he beat Sunday to win his 10th straight decision and 21st game of the season, Lee said, "I'll try to do more of the same of what I did today."

Lee pitched 7 1/3 innings and Victor Martinez drove in three runs as the Indians beat the Royals, 3-1, at Kauffman Stadium. Lee's 21 victories and 2.28 ERA are the best in the big leagues.

No, he hasn't pinched himself to see if this is real. He acts like going from 5-8 last year to 21-2 this year is no big deal.

"I really don't think about it that much," said Lee. "I think about preparing each day and doing everything I can do to get ready for my next start. I don't reflect back on previous outings or look too far ahead of today. It's worked for me this year and that's as simple as it is for me."Lee has tried to do this in the past, but it's never been this refined.

"I've been more conscious of it this year," he said. "It helps to have success. When something is working, there's no need to change it. I've focused a lot more on it. ... I've worked hard to keep my mind in the moment and not reflect on what I've done, good or bad."

Lee is scheduled to face the Royals again Friday night at Progressive Field. He's 4-0 with a 2.70 ERA against them this year and 11-4 in his career.

Lewis worked a scoreless ninth to earn his eighth save of the season and the appreciation of catcher Kelly Shoppach on Sunday in Kansas City."The guy is throwing strikes with, what, four pitches," said Royals shortstop Mike Aviles. "He's got the fastball, cutter, curve and change. Any pitcher who is commanding four pitches, and throwing them for strikes, is going to have the upper hand.

"You know he throws a lot of strikes. So in your head, you know you're going to get something to hit. He puts it right there and at the last moment it moves just enough."

On Sunday, 72 percent (74-for-104) of Lee's pitches were strikes. He struck out five and walked one.

Lee's 21 victories are the most by a Tribe pitcher since Gaylord Perry won 21 in 1974, and are second most in a season by a Tribe lefty, behind only Vean Gregg's 23 in 1911.

With four starts left, Lee has a real shot at that.

The Royals may be in last place in the AL Central, but they know how to hit lefties. They're 29-20 against left-handed starters, including a 16-9 record at home.

"They made Cliff work," said manager Eric Wedge.

Billy Butler and Mark Teahen hit consecutive one-out singles in the fourth. Lee struck out John Buck and retired Alberto Callaspo on a grounder. Esteban German started the fifth with a double, but Lee retired the next three batters.

Lee said the thing that helped him was Martinez's two-run single in the first for a 2-0 lead.
"It eased the tension," said Lee.

Martinez's hit was a mixture of good timing and awe. Martinez supplied the timing when he turned Zack Greinke's 3-2 slider into a single up the middle with two out and Shin-Soo Choo and Jhonny Peralta running on the pitch. Peralta, not known for his speed, supplied the awe by scoring all the way from first base.

"Jhonny was really digging right there," said Wedge. "He got a great jump. If he doesn't do that, he doesn't score."

Choo and Martinez got together again in the sixth. Choo, on an 11-game hitting streak, doubled and scored on Martinez's bloop double to left against Greinke (10-10, 3.70). Martinez, scheduled to catch Monday night against Baltimore, reached base seven times in nine plate appearances against the Royals.

This was Martinez's seventh game since coming off the disabled list on Aug. 29.

"I'm just trying to do the best I can do," said Martinez.

The third run was big because the Royals scored their only run in the sixth to make it 2-1. After Lee retired Butler in the eighth, Rafael Perez and Rafael Betancourt finished that inning. Jensen Lewis worked the ninth for his eighth save in nine chances.

The Indians, 9-5 against Kansas City, have won 20 of their last 28 games.

Indians' Lee rings up 20th victory
By Sheldon Ocker Beacon Journal sports writer

Published on Tuesday, Sep 02, 2008

CLEVELAND: Cliff Lee was pleased, happy even, to become the first 20-game winner in the major leagues this season.

Not that anyone could tell from his body language or his facial expression (what expression?). But he said so, and everyone within earshot in the Indians' clubhouse was prepared to take his word for it.

More than just win the game, the left-hander punctuated his accomplishment by throwing his fourth complete game and second shutout of the year, as the Chicago White Sox fell 5-0 Monday night at Progressive Field.

''That has a nice ring to it; I like the sound of it,'' Lee said, referring to his feat of winning 20 games. ''It's nice to get it out of the way and behind me. Now, I'll do everything I can to get ready for my next start and finish strong.''

It has been his mantra all year. The same words in the same order, game after game after game. In a nutshell, Lee's credo is living in the moment, ignoring the last game, resisting the tendency to think farther ahead than his next start.

The game ahead is the only one that counts. The next inning, the next pitch is all he should be thinking about. And who's to argue? The man is 20-2 with a 2.32 earned-run average that continues to go down.

Of course, Lee learned all this from manager Eric Wedge and pitching coach Carl Willis.
''This is one of the toughest things to do in the game of baseball right now,'' Wedge said of winning 20. ''I think I learned from C.C. [Sabathia] and Fausto [Carmona] learned from C.C. how to handle things.''

Even when the White Sox began the game with consecutive hits, Lee stayed the mental and emotional course.

''After those guys get on, there's nothing I can do about it except face the next guy,'' Lee said. ''It's the same as everything else: it's the next batter, the next pitch.''

Lee began the first inning by giving up consecutive singles to Orlando Cabrera and A.J. Pierzynski. But he struck out Carlos Quentin and Jermaine Dye ripped a line drive to Asdrubal Cabrera at second, and he doubled up Cabrera at the bag.

''I was trying to get Quentin to hit a double-play ball and struck him out instead,'' Lee said. ''I would rather have had the double play. Then I got lucky with Dye. It was a fastball away and up, a ball he could drive. But he hit it right to Asdrubal. It's not the kind of double play I want, but I'll take it.''

Kelly Shoppach might have been more on edge than Lee before the game.

''I was a little anxious and nervous more than he was,'' the catcher said. ''We know it's a big moment. It was like a playoff atmosphere. I'm very proud of Cliff.''

Lee seemed most pleased that he no longer would have to answer questions that relate to wanting to win 20, how stressful it might be to pitch for his 20th and how it would feel if he did or didn't succeed.

''It's nice not to have to answer questions matching up with Gaylord Perry,'' he said. ''But I feel happy and pleased about the way things went. I couldn't have asked for anything better. Maybe a perfect game, but a lot of things have to go your way to do that. So this was a neat experience.''
During one stretch, Lee retired 19 batters in a row and never was in any real trouble. As any Northeast Ohio fan knows, Perry is the last Tribe pitcher to win 20 games, and that was back in 1974.

Lee gave up only five hits, didn't walk a batter and threw 109 pitches, only six in the seventh inning, which included a strikeout.

The only annoyance from the White Sox side of the field came from Pierzynski, who is masterful at getting under the skin of other players, opponents and teammates alike.

When Pierzynski popped to the shortstop in the fourth inning, he slammed his bat and yelled something. After that, the story is disputed.

''He ran down the line and yelled something and stared at me,'' Lee said. ''I just stared back. Then I heard him chirping from the dugout [later in the game]. It gave me a little extra energy. I appreciated it.''

When the game was over, Lee pointed to the visitors' dugout.

''That was just excitement,'' he said.

According to Pierzynski, when he hit the pop fly, he yelled because he was angry with himself, not Lee. It was just miscommunication, he said.

"That's the best I've seen him throw against us in some time," said Chicago manager Ozzie Guillen, whose club dropped into a tie for first with Minnesota. "He's a 20-game winner for a reason. We got to him early and had an opportunity. Then he shut us down, just dominated us."
After he got Carlos Quentin to ground into a game-ending double play, Lee punched his fist into his glove and hugged Shoppach as fireworks boomed above Progressive Field. And then, as he has done 19 other times this season, Lee got in line to exchange handshakes with his teammates.

First baseman Ryan Garko flipped the ball to Lee, and he headed to the dugout as a video tribute from Perry and Feller was shown on the stadium scoreboard.

"It's nice to get this behind me and not have to answer questions about matching Gaylord Perry," Lee said in a typically stoic tone. "I'm glad I got it over with on the first try. It's a good feeling, especially not giving up any runs."

Lee's History

Lee's history wasn't smooth. Ineffective for the first fourth months of 2007, Lee was sent back to the minors last July, a startling downfall for a pitcher who had won 46 games over the previous three years. In his final start before the demotion, Lee was booed off the field and sarcastically tipped his cap at fans who were sick of seeing him.

After the initial shock of being back in the minors wore off, Lee reset his sights.

"I never lost confidence," Lee said. "I never got down on myself or questioned my abilities. I never once doubted what I could do."

Since the first day of spring training in '08, he has been in a groove.

"It's a tremendous tribute to him and the work and the commitment he made," Indians manager Eric Wedge said. "These things don't happen by accident."

Lee leads the majors in wins and ERA, and no pitcher has meant more than the laid-back 30-year-old, who has accounted for 30 percent of Cleveland's 66 victories.

Lee has refused to put emphasis on any start but his next one, and has shrugged off his success with a hey-this-is-my job nonchalance. For weeks, he has downplayed any significance of reaching the 20-win barrier, insisting all he wants to do is give the Indians a chance to win.
His approach has been simple.

"You've got to locate. You've got to work ahead. You've got mix and change speeds," Lee said. "That's the key to pitching."