Maddux retired in control, with healthy lead

What, you expected a bawling episode the likes of Brett Favre?

There was a better chance that sports agent Scott Boras would forfeit his commissions this winter.

Greg Maddux retired from baseball and onto the nearest first tee Monday the same way he constructed the finest pitching resume of his generation -- with the face of a guy holding pocket aces and you none the wiser.

It wouldn't have worked another way. You can't dominate your profession for most of 23 seasons by impassively hitting corners with absolute control, then become a fireball of emotion upon departing.

You shouldn't in these times pretend to be someone you're not, which Maddux didn't as a Valley High School pitcher who accepted that movement and location were more important than velocity, as a major league pitcher who won 355 games, as the one who made his retirement official at Bellagio during baseball's annual winter meetings.

To the end, he sort of nibbled around the corners in dissecting his career and where life will lead him next, though the clubhouse at Spanish Trail Golf and Country Club is a good start.

"When I'm afraid to think of things, I really don't think about them," Maddux said about what he will miss most about baseball. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Hopefully, it won't be too tough.

"I still think I can play the game, but not as well as I would like to, so it's time to say goodbye."

How refreshing.

Oscar De La Hoya stepped into a boxing ring at the MGM Grand Garden on Saturday and over eight rounds flawlessly defined a once-great champion who tempted competitive fate far too long, whose legacy over the last few years has been discolored by poor results. He just didn't know when to quit.

Maddux could have been more than serviceable next season as a fourth or fifth option while offering his invaluable self-tutoring of younger minds between starts. There would have been a job for him.

But, as usual, he was smarter than most.

I never bought the self-depreciation theme that identified many of his comments, some of which you would listen to and wonder if you were looking at a four-time Cy Young Award winner or a no-name journeyman.

Greatness and competitive fire go together like the Yankees and exorbitance. Maddux ends his career with one more victory than Roger Clemens, and you know it is a truth the former values like he would tips from Tiger Woods.

The closest Maddux came to being accused of foul play was when the Atlanta Braves were chastised for adding a few inches of chalk to the catcher's box so that their staff of Cy Young arms could throw even further outside and still get calls.

When compared with the world of Clemens and steroids, that's the difference between stealing a pack of gum and robbing a bank.

"He showed the game respect, took nothing for granted, earned his keep," said Maddux's older brother, Mike. "It's a happy but sad day. To see the passing of one of the greats is sad, but baseball's loss is a family's gain. I hope his legacy is remembered as being such a good teammate."

There are only thousands of examples to support such a wish.

Five years from now, numbers should allow Maddux to challenge Tom Seaver's all-time Hall of Fame percentage (98.84) of votes. The numbers are astounding in every sense.

But stories like this speak more to his significance over two decades: Veteran umpire Joe West tells of the night in Chicago years ago when he happened past a young Cubs pitcher who had made his major league debut earlier that day, having turned in a fantastic performance. West asked the player how he had prepared for the outing.

"He said for two days all he did was sit next to Maddux and pick his brain," said West, who also called the first game of Maddux's career, in 1986. "He said Maddux told him how to pitch every player and what to look for in every at-bat and on every count.

"(Maddux) wasn't very good that first game. No one saw 355 coming. But he pitched like a veteran from the beginning. He was that special, the kind of guy who when he was losing and they came to get him, would walk off the field and tell you, 'Good job.' The kind of guy who when ordered by a manager to retaliate and hit someone, was walking off the field before you could throw him out.

"The consummate teammate. The consummate pro."

It all ended in a casino ballroom at the Bellagio on Monday, his agent and parents and siblings and wife and children present. It ended as you would expect, with Greg Maddux being himself.

In complete control, nibbling at the corners of such an emotional moment.

Las Vegas Review-Journal columnist Ed Graney can be reached at 702-383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.