Our Friday Funday journey continues today with a look at Mitch Williams, the longtime MLB reliever known as “Wild Thing” in the late 1980s and early 1990s. He was one of the most recognizeable pitchers in baseball from 1986 through 1993, with the Texas Rangers, the Chicago Cubs, and the Philadelphia Phillies. But after he blew the save in Game Six of the 1993 World Series, he was never the same player again—ever.

We’ll spoil it right now: from 1994 through the end of his career, Williams pitched for the Houston Astros (2004), the California Angels (2005), and the Kansas City Royals (2007) without every regaining his All-Star form. From 1986-1993, he posted 186 saves, and then from 1994-1997, he managed just six saves … all with the Astros in 1994, as we assume the Angels and Royals probably never gave him a chance to try.

The Rangers (1986-1988)

He broke into the majors in 1986 as an age-21 reliever with control issues. A wild lefty, he allowed just 69 hits in 98 innings while walking 78 batters and striking out 90 hitters. Still, he saved eight games for Texas and managed to post 1.9 WAR due to his high usage (an AL-high 80 appearances) and periodical effectiveness. Obviously, this kind of rookie debut showed promise, based on past-precedent fireballers.

Williams improved immediately the next year, lowering his ERA and WHIP while increasing his strikeout rate. He still was very wild, but he converted six save chances along the way to post 2.1 WAR at age 22. However, he took a step backward in 1988 with a 4.63 ERA, despite saving 18 games and lowering his WHIP again. Sabermetrically, he was a below-average pitcher (minus-0.5 WAR), and the Texas front office sighed.

The Cubs (1989-1990)

Chicago then acquired Williams in the infamous Rafael Palmeiro trade, which also included Jamie Moyer, incidentally. With the Cubs in 1989, he put up a career-best (at the time) 2.76 ERA even though his peripherals weren’t particularly good (1.506 WHIP and the lowest K rate of his short career). But he saved 36 games for the NL East Division champs and made his only All-Star team. All was good for the Wild Thing.

However, he once again regressed in 1990, as his ERA jumped to 3.93 on the way to a 1-8 record and a 0.0 WAR mark—a 2.3-point drop from the prior season. Williams was in his age-25 season, but he had worn out his welcome in this second city already (see what we did there?), despite 16 saves and a career-low 55 walks. The Chicago organization was so done, it traded him for Chuck McElroy and Bob Scanlan. Who?

The Phillies (1991-1993)

Williams had a stellar three-year run in Philadelphia where he saved 104 games while posting a 3.11 ERA across 200 regular-season games. Strangely, he never made an All-Star squad while with the Phillies, even though these were his peak seasons, in retrospect (ages 26-28). He did finish sixth in the Cy Young vote after his first season (1991) in Philly; his 2.9 WAR that campaign represented a career-best effort, sabermetrically.

Yet despite the flashy topical numbers, his value dropped to a combined minus-0.1 WAR in 1992-1993. Williams still was walking 6.6 batters per nine IP, and that was problematic, of course. However, he was solid in the NL Championship Series against the Atlanta Braves in 1993, saving two games with a 1.69 ERA as the Phillies upset the two-time defending NL champs to advance to their first World Series in a decade.

He did blow the save in Game 1 against Atlanta, despite getting the victory when his offense bailed him out; the same thing happened in Game 5, so Williams had a hand in all the Philadelphia victories. But then came the World Series: Williams posted a 20.25 ERA against the Toronto Blue Jays, saving Game 2 but then losing both Games 4 and 6 as he couldn’t close the door on the defending World Series champs. That was the end.

The Astros (1994)

The four blown saves in the 1993 postseason could never be overlooked by the Phillies; Williams was unloaded on the Houston organization in exchange for Doug Jones and Jeff Juden. But it was clear his psyche was damaged beyond repair after the World Series meltdowns. Despite his $2.5M salary, the Astros waived him outright in late May after Williams went 1-4 with a 7.65 ERA and six saves in 25 appearances.

For the first time in his career, he was walking more batters than striking them out. His WHIP ballooned as a result (2.250), and for a team that would finish 66-49 in the strike-shortened 1994 season, Williams was costing the Astros literal wins. No team picked him up before the season was canceled in August, and he was left to his own devices to try to figure out what had gone wrong—besides the obvious mental issues.

The Angels (1995)

By November 1994, though, the California Angels decided to give the literal Wild Thing a shot. The team infamously finished second in the AL West in 1995, and perhaps Williams cost them the division title by posting a 1-2 record with a 6.75 ERA in 20 games. His WHIP was even worse (3.188) than it had been in Houston, and he walked 21 batters in less than 11 innings. By all accounts, he looked like a broken man.

He didn’t pitch in the majors during the 1996 season, although the Phillies gave him another shot in that summer: he spent a month in the minors with the Philadelphia organization before being waived. His 2.043 WHIP at two different levels of lower-level ball was all the team needed to know about its former closer. The end seemed very probable for Williams, and we can’t imagine what he was going through, emotionally.

The Royals (1997)

Kansas City was a franchise without a postseason appearance since 1985 when it signed Williams in January 1997. What did the Royals have to lose by taking a flier on the Wild Thing? Nothing, of course, so it probably wasn’t a surprise that they waived him by mid-May after his 10.80 ERA at age 32 in just seven appearances told them all they needed to know about his lost potential. It’s crazy to look at his statistics after Joe Carter.

All told, in 37 1/3 IP after the 1993 World Series, Williams posted a 7.96 ERA in 52 games for the Astros, Angels, and Royals. He was a defeated, ruined man. We’re surprised his downfall has not received more attention from baseball historians, but perhaps the collective lot has a lot of empathy for such a tragedy. We are not going to try to wax poetic here, but Williams’ story is one of the least-fun ones we’ve ever seen here.