Brutal honesty, a legendary forkball, and strong opinions defined Elroy Face, Pittsburgh's unforgettable relief pitching icon who revolutionized the bullpen.
Elroy Face might have been the most cantankerous person I have ever met. I say that with love.
The Pittsburgh Pirates’ leader in career games pitched never held back about what was on his mind. Face felt modern-day players were overpaid and that pitchers, especially those who work out of the bullpen, were being babied. Face also thought today’s baseball brand was far inferior to what it was in the 1950s and 1960s.
Whether Face was right or wrong about those matters, he was dug in on his beliefs. No amount of playful cajoling could get him off his mark. The 5-foot-8 right-hander was a prime example of someone with a chip on his shoulder.
Yet it never bothered me. I had the chance to talk with Face multiple times. I admired his brutal honesty, which isn’t prevalent in baseball anymore. And I loved the stories he told about his career, spanning 1953 to 1969. Like so many players of that generation, Face was a masterful storyteller.
Face died on Thursday at 97 of natural causes in an assisted living facility in North Versailles, Pa.
Face pitched in 802 games in 15 seasons for the Pirates from 1953-68 and was inducted into the team’s Hall of Fame in 2023. He led the National League in games finished four times and would have topped the NL in saves three times if it had been recognized as an official statistic at that point.
A six-time All-Star, Face is best remembered for his 18-1 record in 1959. He also closed out three of the Pirates’ four wins when they upset the New York Yankees in the 1960 World Series.
That was quite a career for a man who played at a time when relief pitchers were considered failed starters. However, Face helped redefine the importance of relievers and earned the nickname, “The Baron of the Bullpen.”
The last time I had a chance to talk to Face was the day he got inducted into the Pirates’ Hall of Fame. I asked Face if he still had an inning left in his arm to fool a few more hitters with his patented forkball.
Face was 95 at that time.
“They still wouldn’t hit it like they didn’t before,” he growled.
Face said it with so much conviction that I almost believed him.