1970 Topps baseball card of Don McMahon pitcher
He Was a Giant?
Don McMahon – RHP/Pitching Coach – 1969-74, 1980-82 – # 47
By Tony the Tiger Hayes
Analytics and specialized sports metrics have taken such a stranglehold on baseball in recent years that it’s not so ridiculous to believe that we’re not far off from having actual robots as managers – and we’re not talking Gabe Kapler here.
We’ve already seen a trend in front offices and dugouts to turn away from tried and true blueprints of baseball success in favor of statistical analysts.
In many cases old school managers and coaches have been swapped out for a new breed of personnel who have proficiency in baseball metrics, but lack major league experience in in-game strategies or even playing experience at a professional level.
To become a sports oriented data analysts, you typically have earned bachelor’s degree in math, statistics, or a related field. Actually owning a pair of baseball spikes is optional.
So it’s very possible to have a batting coach who is experienced at crunching numbers, but has never crunched a MLB homer. Or a pitching coach with more aptitude at operating a slide ruler than throwing sliders.
That however was certainly not the case with the gruff-but-lovable former Giant Don McMahon who not only pitched in a lot of big league games, but pitched in quite a few of them while doubling up as pitching coach for the Orange & Black.
McMahon, who went from the Concrete Jungle of his birth place in Brooklyn, New York to pitch 18 years in the big leagues, was a Giants pitcher from 1969-74 and a Giants pitching coach from 1972-74 and again from 1980-82.
At the height of his success as an over-40-year-old Giants relief pitcher, the tobacco chewing McMahon was asked his recipe for success.
The answer he gave would likely force some modern day baseball bosses to clutch their pearls.
“I throw hard, pitching a few times every week of every month of the year,” McMahon said bluntly, before expectorating a stream of Beech-Nut juice. “That way my arm never gets tight and out of shape.”
At the time of his final mound appearance with San Francisco in 1974, McMahon was the oldest player in the history of the Giants at 44 years and 176 days and ranked third on baseball’s all-time “games pitched” category. He’s since been passed on the Giants seniority list by RHP Randy Johnson who collected his 300th career win while pitching for San Francisco at age 46.
So much for counting pitches to determine pitcher’s durability.
Why Was He a Giant?
McMahon was 39-years-old when the Giants acquired his rights from the Detroit Tigers for a reported $25,000 and a player to be named (infielder Cesar Gutierrez) in August of 1969.
At the time of deal, the Giants were in a tight race with the Cincinnati Reds and Atlanta Braves for first place in the NL West division and needed to bolster a bullpen that already featured two other established veterans relievers Frank Linzy and Ron Herbel, but lacked depth.
But if the addition of the venerated McMahon, who was a member of two previous World Series Championship clubs with the Tigers and Milwaukee Braves, was intended to serve as a reassuring presence in the San Francisco bullpen, that concept initially backfired as McMahon initially fell flat on his face.
In his Giants debut (8/10/69), McMahon hacked up a 4-3, 9th inning lead, as the visiting St. Louis Cardinals pummeled the veteran reliever for four earned runs to beat the Giants 7-4, to complete a devastating three home sweep of the Orange & Black.
As McMahon trudged off the mound courtesy of manager Clyde King’s hook, a disgruntled Candlestick Park throng of over 16,000 rained boos down upon the proud pitcher.
But after his sour first impression, McMahon settled down, pitching shutout ball over his next five appearances, totaling 7.2 innings. During that stretch, the wily hurler, notched his first Giants victory with 2.1 frames of perfect ball in an 11-inning, 7-6 road win at New York (8/21/69).
After finally allowing a single run in a no-decision , 7-6 loss at Houston (9/7/69), the Classic Giant came back the next day and threw five shutout frames in a 5-2, 11 inning defeat at Cincinnati (9/8/69).
By season’s end, the Giants dreams of winning the west had fizzled, but the club found a reliable pitcher in McMahon.
Given McMahon’s age it would have been understandable to consider the gray-templed veteran to be a short-term rental, but McMahon impressed every one involved with the Bay City Boppers. He was implored to return to San Francisco in 1970.
At age 40, McMahon had one on his top career seasons, posting a sensational 9-5, 2.96 record with a career high 19 saves in a team topping 61 contests in ‘70.
This Forever Giant stacked up more than 60 appearances again in 1971 as the Giants captured the western division flag.
Making his story more remarkable was the grizzled vet’s approach to pitching. There was no futzing around with Big Don. Even in his early forties the bullpen ace was going right at opposing National League batters.
“I have to throw with velocity, I never have been a good ‘stuff’ pitcher,” McMahon told Jimmy McGee of the San Francisco Examiner in 1970. “It isn’t the fast ball I used to have. But I can still get strikes. I think the best pitch in baseball is the fast ball. It still gives hitters the most trouble.”
He Never Had a Giants Bobblehead Day. But…
Besides his ace bullpen work, a significant side benefit of having “Pappy” McMahon on the Orange & Black staff was his mentoring skills with the numerous young members of the pitching staff.
Some of the peach fuzz faced pitchers – Don Carrithers, Jim Willloughby, Steve Stone, Ron Bryant and Jim Barr – weren’t much older than some of Don’s own children which totaled six, three boys and three girls.
It was obvious, McMahon had the proper timbre to be a big league pitching coach.
In 1972, the Giants actually began spring training without an official pitching coach after jettisoning long time mound tutor Larry Jansen.
The position was initially offered to McMahon, but Don explained, even at age 42, he believed he could still get big league hitters out.
And based on his recent track record who could blame the prideful Irishman. In 1971, he authored a 10-6, 4.06 record, struck out 71 while giving up only 73 hits in 83 Innings of rellef. He walked just 37.
“I still want to pitch,” McMahon told the scribes. “And I can’t do that and coach too.”
But about a week later, McMahon reversed course and accepted the dual-headed role.
“It isn’t as tough as it sounds. I’ll be in the bullpen and will tell the other pitchers to warmup, but (Manager) Charlie Fox will decide who will pitch,” McMahon conceded. “All I have to do is see that the pitchers get their exercise and do their running. I’ll advise them when I see something that needs adjusting. But it will be up to them to them to respond , because I can’t pitch for them.”
McMahon made it a point to stress that any hands- on instructions would likely be reserved for the less experienced members of the pitching staff.
“I’ll concentrate on the youngsters. What am I going to tell Juan Marichal about pitching?” McMahon deadpanned .
The way Giants manager Charlie Fox saw it; McMahon was already serving as a de facto team instructor, why not make it official.
“Don’s a thorough student of the whole game – including pitching,” explained the silver-haired field general. “Being a coach won’t restrict his use in short relief at all.”
Hopes were high for San Francisco heading into the ‘72 season, but a combination of factors- including the mid-season trade of Willie Mays – made it the most miserable campaign in San Francisco Giants history at that point. The club finished in fifth place, a disheartening 26.5 games behind the Reds. Pouring salt in their wounds, the cross bay rival Oakland A’s won the first of three consecutive World Series that year.
But McMahon wasn’t the problem. Even at age 42, the fireman was steady as ever – posting a 3.71 ERA in 44 relief outings.
His coaching received good reviews as well. Despite their overall dismal 69-86 record, the Giants pitching staff held their own, posting a 3.69 ERA as young starters Barr, Bryant and Stone and relievers Randy Moffitt and Elias Sosa emerged as future stars.
In 1973, the Giants reversed the color scheme of their uniform’s block lettering, going orange over black, and McMahon flipped the script on his career, setting aside his long pitching career to focus on his Giants coaching duties.
But by the summer, Don suddenly found himself “unretired” and saving a 9-5 win with two shutout frames at Atlanta in his first appearance out of mothballs. (7/2/73).
McMahon showed his young charges how to do it the rest of the way, making 21 more appearances in ‘73, and showcasing a fantastic, 4-0 ledger and career best 1.48 ERA.
This concept worked so well, the Giants went for a redux in 1974. McMahon, now 44, made nine mid-season relief appearances in ‘74, posting a 3.09 ERA before finally retiring his toe plate for good on July 3, as San Francisco recalled rookie RHP Ed Halicki from Triple-A Phoenix to make his big league debut.
In his Bay City coaching duties, McMahon branched out beyond the pitching staff to lend advice. One afternoon in ‘74, he was throwing batting practice to a slumping Gary Matthews when Don caught a flaw in the young Giant’s swing.
“You’re pulling away from the ball,” the coach shouted to the future star from behind the BP screen. “Stride ahead and you’ll get three hits tonight.”
Sure enough, after heeding the advice of “Pappy,” the future “Sarge” banged three singles that evening in a game vs. visiting Montreal.
McMahon continued as San Francisco pitching coach through a turbulent 1975 campaign.
On the field, the Giants finished in third place, a game under .500, a cringey 27.5 games back of Cincinnati in the NL West. Bit those on field troubles paled in comparison to the financial woes the club was suffering. That year the Giants were nearly sold to the Canadian brewer LaBatts and relocated to Toronto. Thankfully, that deal was nixed by MLB hierarchy. The club eventually landed in the hands of City native son Bob Lurie who kept the club in Fog City.
Through the club in general faced tempestuous times, the pitching staff was not part of the problem.
During spring training, the talented Moffitt shocked Bay scribes when he suggested the G-Men had a pitching advantage over the cross bay champion Oakland A’s.
“I wouldn’t trade our staff for theirs,” crowed tennis superstar Billie Jean King’s outspoken younger brother.
He may have made a valid point.
During the coming ‘75 campaign, the towering Halicki hurled a dominant home no-hitter and an impressive trio of young and colorful Italian-American hurlers known as “McMahon’s Mafia” – John “The Count” Montefusco, John D’Acquisto and Pete Falcone – shined on the Candlestick mound.
That year, the charismatic Montefusco enjoyed a breakthrough campaign, earning NL Rookie of the Year honors.
The relief department featured several young standout graduates of McMahon’s Bullpen Bootcamp including RHPs Moffitt, Dave Heaverlo, and Charlie Williams and southpaw Gary Lavelle.
But late in the season, McMahon and field general Wes Westrum were blindsided by Moffitt’s public blasting of the Giants braintrust.
After achieving a 2.42 ERA and 14 saves in 1973, Moffitt had seen a plateau in his efficiency after Westrum had replaced manager Charlie Fox in mid-1974.
“My motivation is down due to management. I just feel I’ve been mishandled,” Moffitt complained to the Examiner’s Bob Hayes.
“I haven’t been satisfied with my pitching, but It’s tough to pitch given the inconsistency of management. You have to be mentally prepared, and when you’re not sure when and how you are going to be used, you lose confidence. The coaches expect you to have confidence, but they don’t have any in you.”
With new ownership taking over the club in 1976, McMahon could see the writing on the wall – or in this case, the City’s afternoon newspaper. The Giants would enter the 1976 season with a new manager (Bill Rigney) and an entirely new coaching staff.
McMahon remained in the game however, taking over as pitching coach of the Minnesota Twins for two seasons.
But in 1980, McMahon found himself employed once again as the Giants pitching coach under manager Dave Bristol. The staff needed a new voice after a disastrous 1979 Giants season.
Many of the same pitchers from McMahon’s first term as Giants mound czar were still on the roster including Montefusco, Halicki, Lavelle and, yes, even Moffitt.
“I can’t wait to see Moffitt,” McMahon said, with tongue possibly pressed firmly in cheek. “When I was here before, boy, he had good stuff.”
Besides stressing his trademark aggressive approach, McMahon planned on working on the 1980 Giants staff mental acuity.
“The problems on the Giants may have been mechanical.
When you have problems with mechanics, then you get the mental problems and you’re really in trouble.
“The mental problems can linger on and on, then suddenly disappear.
One game, one inning can change your whole mental approach to the game. All of a sudden everything falls into place,” McMahon said.
“Then comes control and concentration. Remember Stu Miller? He had nothing on his pitches. But what a motion. Hitters were swinging at his motion. He had super coordination and a great delivery. If you have a pitcher that can give you seven innings of concentration, you have a great pitcher.”
McMahon remained with the Giants ad pitching coach under Bristol and later Frank Robinson through the 1982 season.
Giant Footprint
At that point in life, McMahon had pitched 18 years in the
major leagues, won 90 games, lost 66, and
saved 153 games and compiled lifetime earned-run average of 2.96.
Plus, had been a pitching coach close to a decade.
But instead of kicking back, he carried on in professional baseball.
Never someone to sit back and take it easy, McMahon quickly moved on and accepted the pitching coach opportunity with the Cleveland Indians in 1983, holding that position through 1985.
McMahon also had a side gig, believe it or not, as a Southern California area scout for the NFL’s Los Angeles Raiders. Silver & Black owner Al Davis had been a chum of McMahon’s since their salad days in Brooklyn.
Later, McMahon took on a staff role with the Los Angeles Dodgers under Tom Lasorda. His duties included in-game defense positioning and pre-game on-field duties which included throwing batting practice.
Tragically, while throwing BP at Dodger Stadium on July 22, 1987, McMahon suffered a massive heart attack and died later at a local hospital. He was 57.
“Sitting around idly wasn’t for him,” McMahon’s oldest son, Jack, told Ira Berkow of the New York Times. “You know, when he’d sit in his easy chair at home, he usually had a baseball in his hand. He’d rub it along the seams, and flip it up in the air. He always loved to have a ball in his hand.”
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