Article: Blue Jays’ 1982 Draft Retrospective: Boom(er) and Bust

[Mac]

The name sitting atop the Toronto Blue Jays’ draft board was notable.

It was a logical pick. Heading into their sixth ever amateur draft in 1982, Toronto felt their minor league system was still lagging behind others in overall talent. Prior to the draft, executive Elliott Wahle told the Toronto Star that the Blue Jays would “take the best available (player) according to our scouting reports." Toronto stayed true to Wahle’s word with the draft’s second pick, and as the team went to make their next selection at 30, the player topping those reports was Barry Bonds.

As fun as it is to imagine a timeline where Bonds' eyes pop out at Damien Cox for another question because the last one was stupid, the Blue Jays did have one glaring need. Faced with “a choice between two pitchers of equal ability, we would take a left-hander over a right-hander,” said Wahle, and for good reason. Over five-plus seasons of play, Toronto employed little southpaw pitching outside of Jerry Garvin, who was in the midst of playing his final games with the team. When it was time to make the pick, the Blue Jays pivoted and took their highest-rated lefty.

For all the feats Bonds accomplished on a major league field, throwing a half-cut perfect game isn’t one to claim. That belongs exclusively to Toronto’s pick, David Wells. He landed on the Blue Jays' radar by striking out 164 batters in 94 innings as a high school senior in San Diego, posting a 12-1 record that included a perfect game and four one-hitters. The pick, according to Neil MacCarl of the Star, was Toronto targeting their need, “otherwise, they would have taken Barry Bonds.”

A few weeks after the draft, Bonds fell asleep in the bullpen during an all-star team tryout after a late night at senior prom. No way he could pull through after a post-SNL party like Boomer and Jim Leyland’s office couch in Pittsburgh can attest. Lots of Bonds’ info is from the great Jeff Pearlman’s Love Me, Hate Me.

If organizational depth influenced the selection of Wells over Bonds, it hadn’t impacted Toronto’s first-round plans. The jewel of their system, 19-year-old shortstop Tony Fernández, was tearing up Triple-A and was well on his way to being Tony bleeping Fernández. However, as Gillick narrowed down the names for the second overall selection, he landed upon two shortstops. Toronto was not alone in wanting Shawon Dunston, a Brooklyn high school player who would go with the first pick to the Chicago Cubs. Outside of Dunston, the Blue Jays had been linked to the two top right-handed pitchers, Jimmy Jones and Dwight Gooden.  

Neither pitcher impressed Toronto enough for the team to chose either over Augie Schmidt. 1982’s eventual Golden Spikes winner as the top American amateur player, Schmidt hit .372 for the University of New Orleans and his plate discipline (165 walks in 190 career college games) had impressed Toronto scouts. Some had questioned Schmidt’s arm and his long-term viability as a defender, but Schmidt had played elsewhere as an infielder during international competitions. “He’s a very mature kid with a good make-up,” said scouting supervisor Bob Engle. “He has good baseball instincts.”

By 1984, Schmidt failed to impress and struggled defensively. He split the season between Double-A and Triple-A; meanwhile Gooden, picked fifth overall by the Mets, debuted and was an instant success. At season’s end, Gooden was an all-star, rookie of the year, and a near Cy Young award winner while Schmidt was told he was moving to second base to begin 1985. Instead, Schmidt was moved in the offseason to the Giants in a deal for a left-handed pitcher, Gary Lavelle.

Lavelle would appear in 92 games out of Toronto’s bullpen in the next two seasons. Toronto had tried to acquire him during the ‘84 season but the brakes were put on any deal when San Francisco insisted a deal include Fernández. (photo credit: TCDB)

This is where the what-if game with Bonds begins. Had Toronto taken Gooden with their first pick, would they have felt comfortable forgoing a pitcher to select Barry second? There is also the question if Toronto would have been able to sign Bonds. He had already committed to Arizona State but was turning professional for the right price. San Francisco took Bonds with the 39th pick but didn’t sign their future star when they came up $5,000 short of his $75,000 bonus demand. Meanwhile, the Blue Jays were able to sign Boomer with a $50,000 bonus.

Wells would eventually debut with Toronto in 1987, by which time Jimmy Key had already become an all-star. Toronto’s third round pick was their best; Key turned into the lefty Gillick had been seeking for his team. He was the second-best pitcher in the American League in 1987, the peak of his eight years in Toronto’s rotation. His performance in Game 4 of the 1992 World Series gave Toronto a 3-1 series lead and Key would pitch in the clincher, leaving that final out for Mike Timlin. Wells pitched in four games himself that series but neither would be around to repeat as champions. Key left as a free agent for the Yankees while Wells was released at the end of spring training.

Seth never seen Jimmy pitch in Toronto.

The only 1982 draft pick to be on both World Series teams was Pat Borders, whom the Blue Jays selected in the sixth round. Borders hit well in the minors and after converting to catcher, he began to quickly ascend upon a promotion to Double-A in 1987. He was in Toronto the next season and while we’re throwing 1992 bona fides around, he was the series MVP and also hit .304 the following year in the win over Philadelphia.

1982 would be the final year Toronto’s draft room was headed by Gillick and Wahle. The two had worked together with the Yankees and when Gillick was hired by upstart Toronto, he convinced Wahle to join him in the front office. The pair built the early Blue Jays through the expansion and ensuing amateur and Rule 5 drafts. Gillick would stay on through eleven straight 85+ win seasons starting in 1983, but Wahle left baseball entirely to head up Toys-R-Us’ expansion into Canada, a fate some Yankee fans wish they could befall on Brian Cashman.

View full article