For all we know, San Francisco Giants closer Brian Wilson takes it one day at a time, gives 110 percent and tries to overcome obstacles. But you wouldn't know it talking to the guy. If Willie Mays' glove was where triples went to die, Wilson's mouth is where sports clichés go to expire.
A few days before Christmas, I had the good fortune of spending an afternoon with Wilson in Los Angeles and, well, after about 10 minutes in, the great irony became apparent. Forget "The Machine," the day-glo orange cleats and the robust beard. The pitcher announcers enthusiastically proclaim the "craziest man in baseball" is the complete opposite. This is the most rational, self-possessed, honest professional you'll ever meet. Even if a man clad in leather