SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — Hall of Fame pitcher Goose Gossage is sitting in a booth in the breakfast eatery, a golf cap pulled down low, his traditional Fu Manchu mustache still covering most of his mouth, and talking about anything and everything that is wrong in the game of baseball.
“People ask me all of the time what I’m doing these days,’’ Gossage says, “and I tell them, ‘Nothing but burning bridges.’ “
Oh yes, and he spent the two-hour breakfast with USA TODAY Sports detonating each and every one of them.
You want to know what Gossage is thinking these days?
You better not be afraid to hear the truth.
Gossage, who spent 22 years in the big leagues, experiencing all eight of baseball’s work stoppages until this year’s lockout, blasted virtually every facet of today’s game today, including commissioner Rob Manfred.
“I hate that mother (expletive),’’ Gossage says. “You know how much I hate him? I called (Hall of Fame chairman) Jane Forbes Clark before the induction last year and said, ‘Jane, I don’t know where you stand with this guy, but I may punch Rob Manfred right in the (expletive) nose and spatter his (expletive) nose all over his (expletive) face right in the lobby of your hotel.
Then again, now that Gossage thinks about it, he may not even be at the Hall of Fame induction this summer.
“I probably won’t go,” he says.
It’s his way of protesting the induction of David Ortiz, who tested positive for PED use in 2003 when MLB administered anonymous drug tests. Ortiz’s positive test was leaked in 2009 to the New York Times.
“If we start letting guys in that used steroids, you’re saying it’s ok for our kids to do it then because the stars did it,’’ Gossage says. “That’s why Congress got involved in the first place because baseball wasn’t policing it. We never should let (Barry) Bonds or (Roger) Clemens in, either.
“These guys have already been rewarded monetarily. They’re laughing all of the way to the bank on something that enhanced their performance. Come on, you don’t break the greatest record of all time (Hank Aaron’s 755 home run record) having the best years of your career when you’re in your 40s.
“They’re all phonies to me.’’
Gossage, 70, renting a home in Scottsdale for the spring with his wife, was just getting started.
He talked about fighting the urge of throwing New York Yankees GM Brian Cashman in a trash can, believes that Pete Rose should be permitted in the Hall of Fame if baseball embraces gambling, calls MLB managers puppets and coaches glorified babysitters, wants for Yankees owner Hal Steinbrenner to sell the franchise, insists that most of today’s GMs are nothing more than Ivy League nerds who don’t know baseball, says baseball is making a mistake if it implements an automatic strike zone with robo-umpires and ridicules today’s players for their lack of fundamentals and inability to beat the shift while batting.
“It breaks my heart to see what has happened to this game,’’ Gossage says. “They tore my heart out and cut it up. … They ruined the game. I can’t even watch a baseball game.”
Gossage, who was a Yankees guest instructor during spring training, is no longer invited after publicly expressing his sentiments a few years ago. He didn’t hide his exasperation with the reliance analytics in the game, and blamed Cashman for embracing the methodology.
“I was going to pick him up one day in the clubhouse, and throw him head-first in a trash can,” Gossage says. “All you would have seen is his feet. And there’s nothing he could have done about it.”
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It’s little different than his sentiments towards Steinbrenner, questioning whether he even likes baseball, or that the Yankees are no more than a business investment.
“Hal ought to sell the Yankees,’’ Gossage says. “He doesn’t want to be there.’’
Well, considering that Gossage no longer is invited to the Yankees’ Old-Timer Weekend, let alone spring training, there’s a good chance he may never cross paths with Steinbrenner, Cashman or any of the Yankee executives again.
And he doesn’t care if he ever sets foot again in the new Yankee Stadium after tearing down the original.
“I swear to God on my Dad’s grave,’’ Gossage says, “‘I couldn’t care less if ever see Yankee Stadium again. … They were playing in the greatest cathedral of them all, and they tore it down. It was a shrine. It ain’t the same field. It ain’t where the boys played.
“I used to walk into that stadium and the hair on my neck would stand up. You could feel the spirits in there. Now, it’s just a place for all of these corporate mother (expletives).”
Gossage blames most of today’s GMs for the state of today’s game, including last season when there were 2,664 more hits than strikeouts, the lowest batting average (.245) since 1968 and an inability to generate rallies, relying primarily on home runs and walks.
“They have no idea about the human element,” he says. “Just look at the scouting. They’re getting rid of all the scouts and are relying on computers. The old executives were smart baseball men because they learned the game from those guys.
“And these coaches now, they’re not coaching. All they do is babysit. They’re glorified babysitters with a pension. And you have a nerd in the manager’s position because it doesn’t take anything to manage. You can get an idiot off the street to manage. It’s all numbers. They get the lineup card from the front office, bring in seven or eight relievers in, and the game comes to a grinding halt.”
Gossage is fired up, reaches towards a salt shaker on the table, and says, “I feel like throwing (expletive) right now.”
He pauses, puts the shaker back down, and tells you there’s absolutely nothing funny about his diatribe.
It’s just Goose being Goose, believing he’s speaking for all of those who are afraid to do so.
“I can’t believe the things I’m seeing when I try to watch a game,’’ Gossage says. “Look at all of the shifting going on. They are giving you a free base, and you’re not going to take it? What kind of baseball is this? I remember we shifted on Boog Powell one series. He bunted like five times straight for hits. We stopped shifting.”
Oh, and don’t get him started on the automated strike zone that could soon be on its way.
“Just looking at the screen with the (expletive) strike zone on it,’’ Gossage says, “bugs the (expletive) out of me. If I want to go to a video game, I’ll go to the arcade.
“What they’ve done to the umpires are a travesty with all of this replay. Those umpires do a fabulous job. It’s the human element. Why are they trying to take the human element out of the game? That is wrong.’’
Then again, if baseball is embracing gambling, no one wants to be the home-plate umpire and miss a call in the late innings and be accused of intentionally altering the outcome.
“Hell, if baseball does, might as well let Pete Rose in,’’ Gossage says. “That’s the only thing that would ever bring the game to its knees is if they thought it was being manipulated by gambling. Well, there’s more of a chance now than ever. It just opens the door.’’
Gossage shakes his head, grimaces, takes his coffee cup, gulps down the last drop, and gently puts it down.
His anger has subsided, but his passion is still burning. He loves the game of baseball, saying he was put on this earth to throw a baseball. His baseball career may be over, but it won’t stop him from speaking his mind to whoever wants to pull up a chair and listen.
“It’s just so sad to see what’s happening,’’ Gossage said. “I wish I could do something about it, I really do, but all I can do is say what I believe.
“The game was never broken, so why did those (expletives) try to fix it?
“Now, they’ve ruined it.’’
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This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Goose Gossage wants to punch MLB commissioner Rob Manfred