McClaskey has been a pro's pro for 12 seasons

Phillies right-hander Tim McClaskey has been throwing a baseball for a living going on 12 seasons.

Of all the Phillies on this year’s roster, only outfielder Pedro Swann has been playing the game longer than the 31-year-old McClaskey.

Going into the season, McClaskey had made 352 appearances, all in the minor leagues. The rest of the year’s five-man rotation had totaled 449 trips.

McClaskey, a 36th-round pick by the Marlins in 1996, has put up some impressive longevity numbers:

He has thrown 1,075 innings, struck out 870 and walked 229. He has hit 62 batters – surely most of them deserved it – and allowed 108 home runs. He owns a 57-58 record with 35 saves, and he has thrown two shutouts – both in his rookie year.

Obviously, at this stage of his career, he is not viewed as a prospect, but pitching coach Tom Filer loves the guy.

“He offers a lot to us and he’s very versatile,” Filer said. “First of all he’s a leader out there (in the clubhouse) for me, and that’s what I like most about him. He’s a quiet leader. He goes about his job and everybody focuses on that – how he goes about it. He does everything properly, and that’s what’s great about him. I really don’t have to worry about what he’s doing (between starts). Last year he took Gio (Gonzalez) under his wing a little bit. He talks to our younger guys just about pitching and things about preparation.”

McClaskey pitched Sunday (May 6) on three days’ rest. Over five innings he gave up four tainted runs on six hits. A four-run, five-hit second inning was his undoing. One of the hits was wind-blown, another produced a broken bat and another – a two-run single – was an opposite-field flair. The real damage was set up by a two-out walk to the opposing pitcher.

He came back, though, and pitched three scoreless inning that kept his team in the game. Overall, he is 2-3 this season with a 3.95 ERA.

“I told him the other day (in his previous start) when we took him out of the game that he was going to come back on three days’ rest,” Filer said. “He said, ‘I’m ready.’ He’s always ready to go.”

McClaskey, who isn’t much of a talker, goes about his business quietly and efficiently, never calling attention to himself. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t enjoyed every moment of every year he has spent in the bushes.

“Oh, yeah, I love it,” he said, in what amounts to a preamble for him. “It’s just like my first year. I just love showing up to the ballpark every day, getting here early, doing my work, being around the guys; it’s a great feeling.

“I haven’t lost my drive at all. The day you lose that is the day you retire. Everything stays the same: I’m still looking to get to the major leagues and doing everything I can to get that done.”

You play 12 years for six different organizations and things do tend to run together. And mount up. For example, McClaskey probably has taken about 700 bus rides over his long career. He likely has visited about 125 different cities, dined on about 1,400 post-game spreads of varying sizes and degrees.

He surely has worked some 800 pre-game crossword puzzles, lifted several tons of weights, devoured cases of sunflower seeds, signed roughly 13,000 autographs, and don’t even bother to guess about the number of times a baseball was cast from his right hand.

Hardly scintillating stuff, but yet, he still loves it. All of it.

“The best part of the game is being around the guys and getting a chance to compete every day and getting paid for what you love to do,” he said.

He misses his wife of nearly eight years, Michelle, and the girls, Madison, 5, and Cameron, 2. They’re back home in Melbourne, Fla.

“This is the first time they haven’t traveled with me,” McClaskey said, “so it’s been quite an adjustment.”

You sometimes wonder what motivates the Tim McClaskeys of baseball, the guys who have played so long yet never have even smelled a big-league clubhouse.

“I still love going out there and competing,” he said. “As far as playing the game, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve had a lot of different coaches and played with a lot of different guys. You learn something from everybody. Probably the main thing I’ve learned is how to slow things down and keep everything simple.

“As far as the politics of the game goes, I have no idea. I don’t read the transactions; I don’t go down the list and do the numbers game during spring training. The only thing I have control of is how I throw the ball.”

And when will he finally stop throwing that stitched ball?

“I plan to pitch till there aren’t any uniforms for me,” he said.

And then?

“I have no idea,” he said. “I figure right now if I have to retire or nobody wants me, I’d get into coaching.”

Filer isn’t surprised.

“I think he has a future as a coach,” he said, “because of his personality. People listen to him. He’s not overbearing and he knows his stuff. Of all the guys I’ve had over the years, he’s one of the guys who really listens. Maybe his talent level might not be where some of the others are, but he certainly gives his best effort.”

You’ve got to admire McClaskey, and so many others like him. Toiling in the minors for so long isn’t easy. There certainly aren’t any guarantees, and life also isn’t easy for a family man. Yet he still chases his dream, and there is something noble in that.

Filer probably put it best when putting all of Tim McClaskey’s parts together: “He is the consummate pro.” 

This story was posted on May 10, 2007