COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. — Bruce Sutter didn't leave baseball the way he wanted, booed relentlessly when injuries sapped his talent. That doesn't matter any more.
Eighteen years after he hung up his spikes for good, Sutter was inducted Sunday into the Baseball Hall of Fame.
"I am in awe," said Sutter, who joined Hoyt Wilhelm, Rollie Fingers and Dennis Eckersley as the only relief pitchers in the Hall. "I wish I could turn back the clock and play one more game.
"When I got the call in January, it brought closure to a baseball career that did not end how I hoped it would," said Sutter, whose last four years in Atlanta were filled with taunts after rotator-cuff problems eventually forced him to retire with 300 saves after only 12 years in the major leagues. "It answered the question: 'Do you belong?' The thought of having my name in is truly an honor and humbling experience."
Although Sutter was the lone player selected by the Baseball Writers Association of America, he was part of the largest class of inductees in Hall of Fame history. Seventeen players and executives from baseball's segregated past, all of them deceased, were also inducted, including Effa Manley, the first woman to be so honored.
"It's a wonderful day," said Rachel Robinson, the wife of Jackie Robinson, who broke baseball's color barrier 59 years ago. "I'm very excited about it. It's a long time coming. We're very, very proud of the Negro Leaguers."
Sutter also shared the dais with J.G. Taylor Spink Award winner Tracy Ringolsby, current national columnist for the Rocky Mountain News, and Ford C. Frick Award winner Gene Elston, former broadcast voice of Houston baseball.
As he did during his stellar 12-year career, Sutter was the closer on this day. And he fought his emotions throughout his speech, which honored everybody who helped him become the first Hall-of-Famer who never started a game in his career.
"This day is about the people who helped me along the way. I would not be standing here without them," said Sutter, his familiar beard now turned gray. "My dad was never too tired to play catch. It was his temperament that rubbed off on me."
Perhaps the biggest debt Sutter owed was to Fred Martin, the man who taught him to throw the pitch that saved his career — the split-fingered fastball. After undergoing surgery to fix a pinched nerve in his right elbow, Sutter met Martin, the roving minor league pitching coach for the Chicago Cubs, in 1973 and three years later was pitching in Wrigley Field.
"Nobody was throwing what he called the split-finger," Sutter said. "It was a pitch that didn't change how the game was played, but developed a new way to get hitters out."