Inside the Phillies: Refocused Hamels is king of the hill again

MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. - A year ago, Cole Hamels was being hammered as hard as his pitches.

It's hard to recall now that he is pitching so well that his general manager has anointed him the likely MVP of this star-studded staff, but the 2009 Hamels was a mess.

His fastball wasn't jumping, but his ERA was - more than a run higher than '08. He couldn't get in touch with his karma, but opponents had no such trouble with his pitches. The more he staggered, the more his head spun like a breaking ball.

By October, in one of those hair-trigger verdicts Philadelphians are famous for, the darling had become the despised. If, like his wife, Heidi, Hamels had been a Survivor contestant, plenty of fans were ready to vote him off the island.

Pointed diagnoses were flying at 90 m.p.h. and faster. Hamels, beloved just 12 months earlier, suddenly was "too distracted," "too West Coast," "too soft."

"It was all bull. A bunch of bull," general manager Ruben Amaro Jr. flared Tuesday afternoon as he watched the Marlins' grounds crew ready the field for Hamels' start. "It was people who don't know anything about the guy."

Fast-forward to Tuesday night, when, after allowing a first-inning run, Hamels dominated the Marlins, striking out 13 in 62/3 innings, lowering his ERA to 3.01. All the negative talk and struggles had long since dissipated, much like the South Florida rainstorms that had punctuated the day and delayed the start.

Thanks to more off-season throwing, the addition of a cutter, and perhaps his new role as a parent, Hamels, his 10-10 record entering the game notwithstanding, is again among the game's elite pitchers.

Although his 25-inning scoreless inning streak ended quickly Tuesday, his effectiveness continued. The season-best 13 Ks gave him 201 for the season, 97 in his last 13 starts, a span in which he has permitted just 18 earned runs in 901/3 innings.

"I view him as the MVP of our staff in some ways," said Amaro, warming to his defense. "Here's a guy who ought to have 17 wins right now and doesn't. But not for a lack of the way he's handled it, physically and mentally. He had every right to blow up. He had every right to be [ticked] off about not getting any support."

Hamels didn't snap. He's rarely even worn one of those disgusted looks on his tanned face, the ones that seemed to imply he was never supposed to be hit.

And on those increasingly infrequent moments of difficulty, like when he yielded three singles and the streak-ending run in the first to Florida, he is more capable of coping. Like iron-willed new staff mate Roy Halladay, he has developed a routine that he adheres to the way pine tar clings to a bat.

Most starters won't talk on the day they pitch. Hamels has extended the silence. Asked by a reporter on Monday afternoon if he had a minute to talk, Hamels, who was texting at his locker, said "No, I do not."

The discipline, said Amaro, was all part of the maturation process for a pitcher who was deemed a phenom the instant he showed up in the big leagues, even though he was merely 22.

"He pitched so much his first two full seasons in the big leagues [1831/3 innings in 2007, 2271/3 in '08]," said pitching coach Rich Dubee. "You're not ready to do that at that age, to pitch at the level he did. He was too good for himself.

"Last year he was probably tired. He got frustrated that he wasn't capable of pitching the way he thought he should and he started competing against himself. He's grown up that way tremendously. That's probably been his biggest adjustment."

Amaro said success came so easily that people assumed Hamels was "a ready-made package," a lefthanded stud ready to anchor the Phillies' rotation, a la Steve Carlton, well into the 21st century.

"But he was 22," said Amaro, "just 22. "People forget. He's still a young man. He's what, 26? I've talked to some of the other veteran pitchers and they say, 'I really didn't learn how to pitch until I was 28, 29, 30 years old.' "

While acknowledging that Hamels clearly had made great strides psychologically, Dubee said not to underestimate the physical adjustments the pitcher made. He arrived in Clearwater with a much livelier arm. That's because the lefthander, who typically eschewed such throwing, played catch all winter.

"He prepared much better. He threw almost continuously, with very little time off," Dubee said. "He kept his arm moving. Before, he didn't do that and he was very, very slow getting started in spring training. He never had velocity. This year he had velocity from day one."

Hamels tweaked his curveball, added a cutter. And, as he displayed Tuesday, he can get his enlivened fastball past batters more consistently. Hitters who used to know, in Dubee's words, "that it was 50-50 they were getting a fastball or change-up" suddenly have much more to consider.

"I think changing speeds, having my change-up at 80 [m.p.h.], the cutter at 88 and the fastball at 90-91 has really made it harder [on hitters]," Hamels said afterward.

After baffling the Marlins' hitters in his 127-pitch outing, a contented Hamels, his black hair matted down by sweat, his dark eyes still and focused, a white towel draped around his neck, sat on the bench like a Buddha.

It was the look of confidence.

And why not?

"He's been one of the best pitchers in baseball, without question," Amaro said. "He's been one of the best lefthanders, if not the best lefthander, in our league. He's been fantastic.

"He's always wanted to be the best. That's never changed. He's always been very, very demanding on himself. That's what made him so good so young. He wanted to be perfect."