Do you know what the most overrated position in sports is? It’s not the squeegee guy in the pit crew, the dude waving the checkered flag or even redneck driving the “NAScar.” The most overrated position in an ESPN-sanctioned sport is the closer for a Major League Baseball team.

Now don’t get me wrong, quality relief pitching is very important to a successful ball club. Just ask the 2005 Chicago White Sox. That pitching, though, shows up no matter the inning. Closers should simply be the top relief pitcher who — if he isn’t used during the course of the game — may come in during the ninth to sew things up if the score is close.

Unfortunately, that is not what a closer is. Today’s modern closer — with precious few exceptions — is a short-term phenomenon, entering in a blaze of glory and heavy metal music and exiting, head down, with a sore arm and flocks of boobirds circling above. In their meager years of success, this enigmatic figure piles up a series of meaningless statistics and trophies sponsored by heartburn relief companies — not necessarily a bad life, but definitely a waste of talent.

There are few who will dispute that the closer is one of the best pitchers on his respective team, and that is why their modern usage is so baffling. Everyone knows games are not won only in the ninth inning, and even my mom knows you want to stop the other team from scoring any way you can, so why don’t big league managers? In dangerous situations with few outs, fast men on base and strong men at bat, the closer will seldom get the call — unless, of course, it is the ninth inning.

Just look at Game 1 of the Rays-Red Sox ALCS. In the bottom of the eighth, with no outs, runners on first and second, and the three, four and five hitters coming up, you would go to your best pitcher right? Wrong. Well, at least Terry Francona wouldn’t, because Jonathan Papelbon is his closer and closers only pitch the ninth inning. Instead, he brought in Hideki Okajima, who promptly threw three balls to Carlos Pena. Had Pena not inexplicably run a red light and popped out, who knows how that game could have turned out.

Just when did this beast of burden suddenly become a sacred cow? What has happened to the fireman of old? Big, angry men with huge mustaches and names like Goose Gossage and Dennis Eckersley who would rush from the bullpen — no matter the inning — if it meant giving their team a chance to win. Now we get guys with secondhand nicknames and faces smoother than your eight-year-old cousin’s that don’t even leave the clubhouse until the seventh inning. Gone are the stares of death 98-mph brushbacks. They have been replaced by the ever-nauseating sky-point and fist-pumps stolen from a golfer. And people are supposed to be afraid of them because they listen to Metallica really loud? Please.

Part of the reason for this startling metamorphosis is the save. Like wins, saves are a comparatively meaningless stat that is often overemphasized when evaluating relievers. Francisco Rodriguez of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim is one of the top closers in the game, and no one questions that the stuff he throws is downright nasty.

Now it’s great that Mike Scioscia has such a reliable horse in his stable, but wouldn’t the team have been better served if K-Rod had come in and put out that five-run rally the other team put together in the sixth inning? Sure, he couldn’t get the save, but at least the Angels could still get the win. After all, isn’t that the point?

Joey is a junior majoring in biomedical engineering. Also don’t think managers take the most advantage of their closers? He can be reached at [email protected].