Growing up, my pitching hero was Greg Maddux. I pitched a little myself. I could never aspire to be Randy Johnson or Nolan Ryan because I wasn’t born with that type of velocity. But I knew how to pitch. I studied hitters and how they reacted to different pitches. And I learned that pitching is as much about deception and surprise as it was about velocity.
Watching Maddux work was must-see TV. He looked more like a high school algebra teacher than a Cy Young winner. He wasn’t out there out-throwing other pitchers—he was out-pitching them. He wasn’t blowing it by hitters—he was making hitters flinch because for a split second they thought the ball might be heading for their hip, but then it slid in to catch the corner of the plate. In my opinion, Maddux was getting more out of his God-given abilities than anybody else out there. So this colorway goes out to you, Mad Dog.