Remembering the best stories of Buehrle

December 4th, 2020

CHICAGO -- The raw numbers associated with 's 16-year-career eventually will support whether the left-handed hurler gets elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame, as Buehrle recently made his first appearance on the 2021 ballot.

Those career statistics are pretty impressive. He has 214 wins, a perfect game thrown against the Rays, a no-hitter thrown against the Rangers, a World Series save the day after making a World Series start, five All-Star selections, four Gold Glove Awards and 14 straight seasons with double-digit wins, at least 200 innings pitched and at least 30 starts. He missed extending that mark to 15 straight seasons by 1 1/3 innings during his final campaign with the Blue Jays in 2015.

But we're going to share a few stories beyond the on-field success concerning the unassuming but entertaining character that was Buehrle. They stand as a small example of his vast value.

“Whether he makes the Hall of Fame or not, as a player, he’s a Hall of Fame person in my book,” White Sox executive vice president Ken Williams told MLB.com of Buehrle.

Beware of rain delays

Williams has nothing but high praise for Buehrle. But with a laugh, he added that the pitcher had a tough time keeping a promise in avoiding occasional tarp dives when the rain started falling.

“Every time, I would explain to him, 'We can’t lose you. You are too important to us,'” Williams said. “When I would see it rain, I’d go, ‘He’s going to go on back out there.’

“He probably is still doing the same thing with his kids. He probably has a slip and slide.”

Buehrle had fun playing the game, even if it made his bosses a little nervous.

A rare human case of Dutch elm disease

I can’t remember the exact year, but this story takes place in Tucson, Ariz., during Spring Training. Buehrle was skipping a start, which in the scheme of a full season, didn’t really matter. Buehrle usually needed a few side sessions and a Cactus League start or two to get ready. But when the ace of a staff is missing time on the mound, a reporter has to follow up.

Buehrle was ready with an answer, as he told writers about being sidelined by Dutch elm disease. We all looked at each other as if Buehrle was a few curveballs short of a 100-pitch effort because Dutch elm affects elm trees, but Buehrle stuck to his story.

One or two of us might have looked it up just to make sure, but a smiling Buehrle still was a bit perturbed none of us bought the tall tale. I decided to help his recovery by going to the garden center at Super K-Mart that next day and looking for treatment for Dutch elm.

Try to find someone who knows about Dutch elm in the land of cacti. I settled on a bag full of fertilizer and left it on his locker chair. The joke must have resonated with Buehrle, as he spoke of it years later to Marlins writers when going with the same Dutch elm Spring Training story.

Breaking starter’s protocol

Starting pitchers don’t talk on the day they pitch until postgame. It’s a rule known by every writer, ranging from the newest to the most seasoned.

On a Friday night in September 2008, I inadvertently broke that rule. I’ve shared this coverage moment before, but I was working on an off-day story in the midst of a tight race for the American League Central involving the White Sox and needed an educated voice. Buehrle frequently talked about not particularly wanting to do interviews, but he was always an informative quote.

I asked him if he had a minute or two, and he looked up from his computer with kind of a surprised look but told me to go ahead. As I asked the first question, I suddenly realized where the surprised look came from -- Buehrle was pitching in three hours.

After apologizing for the interruption, Buehrle told me to keep going with the interview. I stopped after the second question when I was humorously scolded by the White Sox media relations member on the trip. Buehrle eventually earned the victory over the Royals with a quality start, and as we gathered around him for a postgame interview, he smiled, looked at me and said, "Man, are you lucky."

Nothing really seemed to bother him or alter his approach.