{"id":278,"date":"2018-08-21T15:54:49","date_gmt":"2018-08-21T20:54:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/haughtcorner.com\/?page_id=278"},"modified":"2023-06-02T11:11:12","modified_gmt":"2023-06-02T16:11:12","slug":"jim-kern","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/haughtcorner.com\/?p=278","title":{"rendered":"Jim Kern"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jim Kern describes himself as “a one-trick pony who pitched ten years in the major leagues.” But he knew what he was doing, on the mound an off. He enjoyed the game, and played hard. However, he was not consumed by baseball, and in retirement, this avid outdoorsman is happy as can be.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

You signed on Labor Day 1967 with Cleveland. Was that after summer ball?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I actually had played junior-varsity baseball as a junior in high school. I could throw\"Kern the ball hard, but I had very little control. Out of high school, I was probably their second or third pitcher.<\/p>\n

Then in American Legion, we had an amazing team that year out of Midland [Michigan], a little town of 25,000. At second base was Terry Collins, who played as high as AAA with the Dodgers, and later was a manager; a righthanded pitcher named Dick Lang, who played for the Angels; another pitcher named Brian Sullivan, who pitched as high as AA in the Cleveland chain. We won the state championship.<\/p>\n

I signed for $1,000 as a free agent after that.<\/p>\n

The problem was, I could throw I the 90s, but when I was 14 I was 6\u20194\u201d and 158 pounds, so I never had the muscle mass to really control the length of the lever arm.<\/p>\n

You certainly paid your dues in the minors.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Spent four years in A ball; two years in AA; two winters playing in Mexico; and one year in AAA.<\/p>\n

But playing in winter ball was a turning point in your career.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Really, things started to come together in the summer of 1972. I was 3-11 with Elmira in AA, and I went to winter ball. Jim Campanis and Dave Augustine recommended me when they needed a pitcher.<\/p>\n

I went 8-3 and came back the next year, got assigned to AA in San Antonio. I was 12-7 that year, then in Oklahoma City the next year I was 17-7 with a team that was 10 games under .500. I broke the American Association record for strikeouts with 220 in in 189 innings, and strikeouts in a game with 19 in my last start against Denver.<\/p>\n

What was it about winter ball that made the difference for you? <\/strong><\/p>\n

It\u2019s a different scenario when you go play winter ball. In a chain like Cleveland, you have a reputation \u2013 after four or five years in the minors, they kind of think <\/em>they know what you have, and work accordingly.<\/p>\n

In winter ball, its balls to the wall. It\u2019s very simple: you produce or you go home. And they want innings, they want games, and they put you in a position where it\u2019s do-or-die.<\/p>\n

I really lifted myself in that position. You weren\u2019t coddled at all. By the next year in San Antonio, I just seemed to have more confidence, and I started out well, and got viewed differently.<\/p>\n

But there were still bumps in the road for you; you almost quit the game in 1974<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

In \u201974 they were getting ready to send me back to AA, and I was 24 or 25. I had a wife and a son. And I told them, \u2018It\u2019s real simple. I am not<\/em> going back to AA.\u2019\u00a0 I had an associate\u2019s degree in biology and chemistry, chemical-engineering major, and I flat told them, \u2018I\u2019m not going back to AA; I\u2019m going home.\u2019<\/p>\n

So they told me they would give me six weeks in AAA, to see what I would do, and I ended up knocking them dead in AAA that year.<\/p>\n

You were 17-7\/2.52. But it wasn\u2019t a physical thing, or learning other pitches? It was confidence?<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was more confidence. Sure, I gained some weight, and that helped my control; but I had a manager, Red Davis — an old gentleman who believed in me.<\/p>\n

In the middle of the season, the minor-league pitching instructor for Cleveland came into town, and Red pulled me aside and said, \u2018listen to him. He\u2019s going to give you suggestions, because he\u2019s going to try to take credit for some of your success.\u2019<\/p>\n

He said, \u2018take what you can use, and leave the rest. Be congenial. Don\u2019t [irritate him]. But do what you\u2019re doing. Don\u2019t change a damn thing.\u2019 So this was Red Davis\u2019 attitude, and how he treated me.<\/p>\n

It helped a lot.<\/p>\n

How were you treated differently with Red Davis?<\/strong><\/p>\n

He let me run the way I wanted to run: instead of sprints, I ran foul lines — 25 or so a day — to build up stamina. I had 14 complete games that year in 25 starts, and I had 24 decisions<\/em> in 25 starts.<\/p>\n

It was a matter of people approaching me differently, and giving me the opportunity. I was 6-1 or 7-1 going into June, and that built confidence in the manager, so I got more ability to run my life, and my conditioning, the way I thought I should.<\/p>\n

Oklahoma City was a good year. Things went right, and you build confidence down the way. I was simply blowing people away at that point. I did well in the AAA All-Star game, which gave me even more confidence going into the second half of the season.<\/p>\n

At the end of 1974, you were called up to the Indians. You got into four games, \"KernIndTopps\"with three starts. You sort of got your feet wet in the big leagues. <\/strong><\/p>\n

I went to the major leagues and got beat by Mike Cuellar in my debut \u2013 my only complete game in the major leagues. Cuellar beat me 1-0. That was the fourth game of five consecutive shutouts that Baltimore had that September.<\/p>\n

In 1975, you made the Indians — but as a reliever.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dennis Eckersley and I made the team together. He was a complete pitcher at age 20.<\/p>\n

Then they made the big trade for about five people [Gaylord Perry to Texas for Jim Bibby, Jackie Brown, Rick Waits, and $100,000; June 13, 1975] and they told me they had to send me down, because I had an option left. I was really miffed about that.<\/p>\n

I went to Oklahoma City, and I had a poor attitude. They called me back up, and I pitched six innings in Boston. I managed to stretch a ligament in my rotator cuff, so that pretty much trashed the rest of that season.<\/p>\n

You got a jump on the 1976 season.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Going into spring training \u2013 abbreviated because of a strike\u2014I had gone to California in January, where my in-laws lived, and I had been pitching with a high-school team, throwing batting practice and kind of an assistant coach. So by the time I got to spring training, I had probably thrown 40 innings of BP and squad games for this high-school team, so I was well into the end of April in a normal season.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t supposed to make the team, because they thought my arm was trash, but in spring I think I pitched 26 innings and gave up one run. So Frank Robinson took me with the team because I was out of options\u2014if they send me down, they lose me.<\/p>\n

I was the tenth man on the pitching staff. I was the mop-up man. I had a very resilient arm. I pitched as many as 8-9 days in a row and I could get ready in the bullpen quickly, so I filled a niche.<\/p>\n

Your role expanded as the season went along.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I started the season in long relief, and I did well. By midseason, I was setup man for Dave LaRoche, who was the short man; and by the end of the season, I was pitching as much short relief as he was.<\/p>\n

I ended up 10-7 with 15 saves and a 2.26 ERA, and I had impressed Frank Robinson enough that they traded Dave LaRoche, gave me a three-year contract, and made me short man at that point.<\/p>\n

Were you OK with that load? That was pretty much the end of your starting.<\/strong><\/p>\n

After seven years in the minor leagues, any way you can stay in the big leagues is what you\u2019re going to do.\u00a0 It was a situation where I knew I was kind of out of my class, really, in the level of athleticism of the players. I was in the bottom 10 percent of major-league players that way.<\/p>\n

So what is your plus<\/em>? Well, I could throw as hard as anybody.<\/p>\n

I became much more successful when I admitted to myself, \u201cyou\u2019re a horse***t pitcher<\/em>. But you\u2019re an awesome thrower<\/em>.<\/p>\n

It was the attitude that \u201cyou\u2019re never going to be a good pitcher<\/em>, but you\u2019re as good a thrower<\/em> as the world\u2019s ever seen, so go with what you\u2019ve got.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

So we kind of developed the \u201cemu attitude.\u201d Fritz Peterson and Pat Dobson gave me \"Kernthat nickname in Cleveland. They were doing a crossword puzzle. I walked by, and I\u2019m 6\u20195\u201d and 180 \u2013 an emu: the world\u2019s largest nonflying bird.<\/p>\n

And so you stop and think about it: I\u2019m here, and I\u2019m doing well. How do I stay<\/em> here?<\/p>\n

And so your plusses are, you throw the ball hard; you\u2019re inherently wild; so let\u2019s use this to our advantage, instead of fighting yourself on the mound.<\/p>\n

So I would stand on the mound and scream at myself. I really wanted the hitters to think I was nuts. Here\u2019s this 6\u20195\u201d guy who looks like Ichabod Crane, yelling at himself. He throws in the upper 90s, with minimal control, and he doesn\u2019t give a [crap].<\/p>\n

Consequently, it got a one-trick pony ten years in the major leagues.<\/p>\n

They were never going to give me a chance to be a pitcher Like Frank Tanana, when he hurt his arm and could no longer throw the primo gas. It was a matter of thinking your way through it, instead of fighting to be something they were never going to let<\/em> you be.<\/p>\n

Go with what they will let<\/em> you be, and do the most you can with it.<\/p>\n

A reliever who threw as hard as you did was tough on hitters.<\/strong><\/p>\n

When you had starters throwing sinkers and sliders in the upper 80s for 7-8 innings, and then you brought in this guy who could throw in the upper 90s, the hitters were not able to turn the dial up, once around the batting order. So you had that shock effect, which became very effective.<\/p>\n

Is it true that for three years, Frank Robinson wouldn\u2019t let you throw anything except fastballs?<\/strong><\/p>\n

That is correct. It\u2019s interesting when everyone knows what\u2019s coming, and it became \u2018see if you can hit it.\u2019 It does make you learn how to drag your arm; throw two-seamers and four-seamers; make the ball move in different situations.<\/p>\n

What was your approach, then?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I threw for the middle of the plate, as hard as I could. When things didn\u2019t go well, I didn\u2019t back off; I threw harder. I threw a four-seam fastball and aimed for the middle of the plate, until I got 0-2 or 1-2; then I played with the corners. When I got to 2-2, it was aiming for the middle of the plate again.<\/p>\n

I could throw a two-seamer that would sail in to righthanders; I could throw a two-seamer that I could get to sink a little and go away from the righthanders; and then I threw a four-seamer over the top and put enough backspin that it would take off 6-7 feet in front of the plate.<\/p>\n

I struck out a whole lot of batters throwing the ball waist-high, and by the time they swung at it, it was chest-high.\u00a0 [Rangers catcher Jim] Sundberg said my fastball gave people the impression that six feet in front of the plate, it accelerated; it just tied people up.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t just power.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Another thing I did was to look at the situation. Everybody in the league was making a living on the outside half of the plate; get them to hit to the big part of the field. My philosophy was, it took milliseconds more to get the bat head around to hit an inside pitch than an outside pitch.<\/p>\n

My game is speed and <\/span>beating you<\/em><\/span>.<\/span> — On his approach to hitters<\/span><\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

My game is speed and beating you<\/em>. So I have a better chance of beating you — maybe just by milliseconds, but I will still have a better chance — on the inside half of the plate. The hitters were looking outside. So until you hurt me inside<\/em>, you didn\u2019t see a pitch outside<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Gaylord Perry taught me that you only have one rule when you pitch inside: if you miss, you miss off <\/em>the plate; don\u2019t miss over <\/em>the plate.<\/p>\n

So I ended up thumping a lot of people.<\/p>\n

I think I hit Don Baylor 11 times, and I guarantee, half of them were strikes. He loved the ball away, and he would stand on top of the plate, lean over it, and basically try to intimidate you into throwing the ball away.<\/p>\n

But you were not<\/em> intimidated, and you continued to pitch inside.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I had just spent six years in the Marine Corps Reserve, so the idea of getting into a fight didn\u2019t bother me at all.<\/p>\n

My attitude was, \u2018come on out to the mound after I hit you. We\u2019ll get this over with, and eventually you\u2019re going to have to get back in the batter\u2019s box — and let\u2019s see who gets tired of this silly-ass game first.\u2019<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I made a living on the inside half of the plate, when nobody else did. I had a lot of people afraid of that inside pitch.<\/p>\n

My philosophy was that the talent at the major-league level was so close, that If you could get an edge \u2013 shatter their confidence by a couple percentage points — you had an edge. And the psychological benefit was me acting crazy.<\/p>\n

After the 1978 season, Jim was traded to the Texas Rangers, where he had his best season in 1979. Read all about his 1979 season here<\/a>.\"Kern<\/em><\/p>\n

The Rangers had big problems in the second half of that 1979 season \u2013 losing 30 of 40 games at one point. This happened several times to Rangers teams, and it\u2019s been said that perhaps the extreme Texas summer heat was a factor in these second-half fades.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t think the heat had anything to do with it. It\u2019s harder for visitors to come in and play a three-game series in that heat instead of being acclimated to it.<\/p>\n

I think a lot of it is psychological. When you\u2019ve had trouble in the past, and then you start to struggle, then you start to look at it. Perception is reality. When you expect<\/em> bad things to happen, you have a much greater chance they\u2019re going<\/em> to happen than if you don\u2019t<\/em> expect it.<\/p>\n

[In 1979] we found a way to lose every night. But then, we were really struggling and trying too hard. Everyone was playing outside the envelope and attempting to do more than they should have been doing, so it\u2019s self-defeating. Kind of like a stone rolling downhill, or a snowball that just gets bigger and bigger and bigger. \u2018What can happen tonight?\u2019 I think that psychological problem is what kills you more than anything else.<\/p>\n

The Yankees believe<\/em> they\u2019re gonna win. If they\u2019re 20 runs down in the eighth, they still believe<\/em> they can win. I think that\u2019s what makes them so successful: they expect<\/em> to be successful.<\/p>\n

You suffered a hyperextended elbow spring training 1980.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I threw a pitch, and the bottom half of my arm went numb. I tried to pitch with it for a while.<\/p>\n

I tried to adjust my arm slot so it hurt less, and by doing that I managed to impact three vertebrae in my neck. From the years of being tall and skinny, and all the throwing, the muscle definition and even the bones in my right shoulder are considerably larger than my left.<\/p>\n

And so what I managed to do is, I overbuilt the right side so much that it was actually pulling the spinal column away from the left side, and locking up vertebrae.<\/p>\n

About the end of April, when I extended the left arm and elbow and pulled it through, it felt like it felt like someone was trying to tear the trap [trapezius muscle] off my left shoulder. I tried to pitch with that for about six weeks and flat stunk, and I finally went on the disabled list.<\/p>\n

It took me the better part of a year to rebuild the left side to be able to take the beating the right side was giving it.<\/p>\n

After the 1981 season, you were traded to the Mets, but you never played for them \u2013 you went to Cincinnati instead.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I had a great year [in 1981] and [Rangers GM] Eddie Robinson traded me that winter just to make a trade, so I went to New York \u2013 was with them for a month and never even talked to their front office. I guarantee they were just prepping for the George Foster trade; getting the people Cincinnati wanted to make that trade, and I was traded to Cincinnati.<\/p>\n

The 1982 season was a disaster for Cincinnati \u2013 the only time a Reds team lost 100 or more games. It was a mess for you, too.\"Kern<\/strong><\/p>\n

I had a good year there. I was setup man for Tommy Hume, who was the short man, but I think I pitched 25 consecutive scoreless innings in July and early August, and it was evident \u2013 the following year was going to be the last year of a five-year contract, and I told them I wanted to renegotiate.<\/p>\n

They said, \u2018no way, until after the season,\u2019 and I said \u2018fine, I start growing my beard today.\u2019 [The Reds had a strict no-facial-hair policy.] Six weeks later, I got traded to the Chicago White Sox.<\/p>\n

You must have felt like you escaped when you got traded from the Reds.<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was just a matter that I was going to put pressure on them: If you want to play your silly game, go ahead \u2013 play your silly game.<\/p>\n

I had a Nike contract at the time, and so I wore those shoes and made five grand a year, which was big money at that time with Nike. And Cincinnati said \u2018No, it\u2019s gotta be black-on-black.\u2019 And it was like, \u2018bulls**t!\u2019 I was player rep at the time, and so at that point we started a suit against Cincinnati, which I\u2019m sure helped me get traded, but eventually [Reds executive Dick] Wagner lost.<\/p>\n

It was all of that situation.<\/p>\n

What a mess \u2013 it seemed so dysfunctional.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Big time. Big time.<\/p>\n

How was your time in Chicago?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hell, I even started<\/em> there. I got into the seventh inning as a starter in September for Tony La Russa.<\/p>\n

I went to spring training the next year, and I was having a lot of elbow trouble \u2013 where the tendons attach inside your elbow. Their doctor shot me up with cortisone and said, \u2018go ahead and throw \u2013 you can\u2019t hurt it.\u2019 Well, I tore the flexors and the pronators completely off the elbow. They had to go in and operate, and put everything back together. Then they released me without even looking at me, when I was still rehabbing.<\/p>\n

From that point on, it was the mercenary state of my career \u2013 I was modeling uniforms. And I looked good in all of them, man [laughs].<\/em><\/p>\n