What do you call a pitcher who travels with his own fuchsia satin pillow, collects stuffed animals, studies Eastern religions and bids up his own baseball cards on eBay? Call him Barry Zito…and expect him to call you “Dude” in return. Baseball’s richest pitcher is a true lefty’s lefty—his arsenal includes a darting heater, debilitating curve and a lust for life that occasionally made former teammate Jason Giambi feel as interesting as a gym teacher. Barry is a bona fide baseball original and, Giants fans hope, a genuine San Francisco treat. This is his story…

GROWING UP

“Dream big, and dream always.” Those words, the words of his father, are what Barry William Zito remembers most clearly from his childhood. Born in Las Vegas on May 13, 1978, he was a late-in-life baby for Roberta and Joe, a show biz couple who met and married while working for Nat King Cole in the 1960s. Joe was Cole’s conductor and arranger, Roberta (a classically trained violinist and pianist) was a singer in the star’s backup group, the Merry Young Souls.

The Zito’s were in the making-ends-meet mode by the time Barry arrived. His first instrument was a Cookie Monster drum set, but his interests were already varied. Barry could read at three—the same year he received a red plastic bat that ignited his passion for baseball. Soon the family’s front hall was a makeshift baseball diamond. In second grade, Barry’s teacher asked her students to draw a picture of what they wanted to do when they grew up. The 7-year-old colored a baseball pitcher and scrawled the words “Make a million dollars” above it. He happily made the trek to the ball field every day to work on his game.

One thing Barry would never lack in his quest for that first million was a rooting section. Barry likes to say he had three “moms.” There was Roberta, of course, but also two much-older sisters, Sally (already nine when he was born) and Bonnie (13 years his senior). They spoiled him rotten, and encouraged any and all of his interests. But in the end it was Barry’s relationship with his father that led him to fully explore his athletic ability.

Though Joe knew nothing of baseball, he could see how serious (and good) his son was when it came to the sport. The solution for the elder Zito was to approach the game as he would any new subject. He read all he could about technique and history, and discussed these topics with his boy at length. Talking was a big part of the Zito family culture—acquiring and sharing knowledge was something of an obsession, in fact. Thus as Barry’s physical skills were developing, his mental approach to baseball was already in full bloom.

Baseball was like music. It was something you practiced and studied. Two hours, every day. Barry and his dad honed his skills while his friends had fun outside. He was like the kid in the cartoon taking violin lessons while watching his friends play baseball in his front yard. Only he was playing baseball, too—but on a far more serious level.

By his early teens, Barry was excelling as a pitcher. Joe, now 57, decided to give up his musical career and devote himself to his son. Roberta found a teaching job in San Diego, and the family moved to El Cajon. No one in the family enjoyed their new neighborhood, a washed-out area marked inhabited by tough, blue-collar families.

By this time both girls were out of the house—Bonnie was a fashion model and Sally was finding success in the music industry. Joe built a mound in the backyard and Barry began pitching simulated games. They would review each imaginary hitter, every situation, talk about what they were trying to accomplish at various stages in the count—the kind of things other hurlers don’t usually start thinking about until they’re a good 10 years older. Joe also videotaped each session, and he and Barry watched and discussed the tapes together.

Barry had other interests, of course. San Diego had a serious skateboarding culture in the early 1990s, and he became a part of it. He did the clothes and the hair and the ’tude. At the same time, he also fooled around with various musical instruments, although none all that seriously.

When Barry’s body began to mature, his father decided it was time to hire a professional coach. For one hour a week, he worked with former Cy Young Award winner Randy Jones, who still lived in the San Diego area. Jones, a supreme tactician during his pitching days, had a unique coaching style. Whenever Barry did something wrong, he would cover the boy’s Nikes with a stream of tobacco juice.

The sessions cost $50, which came out of the family’s already-stretched food budget. Joe and Roberta figured it was a sound investment—they would not be able to afford college tuition for Barry, but he was on track for a baseball scholarship, so the money was well spent.

Under Jones’s tutelage, Barry starred for the Grossmont High School varsity and gained valuable experience pitching in top-tier summer league tournaments. In 1995, he switched to University High—a private school—and earned all-league honors with an 8-4 record, 2.92 ERA and 105 strikeouts in 85 innings. Despite those numbers, he garnered little interest from the top west coast colleges. Barry’s pitching style scared them off. Although he had a devilish curve and an advanced understanding of his craft, he threw across his body, thus cutting the velocity on his fastball, which topped out in the low 80s.

Barry got three scholarship offers—from Wake Forest, UC Santa Barbara and Cal State Northridge. He was also drafted by the Seattle Mariners, albeit it in the 59th round. M’s scout, Craig Weissmann, believed Barry could be a special pitcher, but cringed at his mechanics. He worked with Barry on the backyard mound for a few weeks and straightened out his delivery. Suddenly, the ball was popping into Joe’s glove at over 90 mph.

Weismann called the Mariners and told them with great excitement that they had uncovered a gem—a potential front-line starter for a famously pitching-starved organization. On his word, Seattle tendered Barry a $90,000 bonus offer, which is unheard of for such a low pick. The lefty turned down the offer as a flabbergasted Weismann listened to the reason: He thought he should be a first-round pick.

That summer, Barry began working with Rick Peterson. A pitching coach in the Toronto organization, Peterson had a reputation for thinking outside the box. Joe Zito called him out of the blue and convinced him to meet with Barry. The two hit it off immediately. For Barry, it was like looking at himself 20 years later. He and Peterson talked about everything from the Zen of pitching to Yoga. Peterson told him that success on the mound came down to bridging the gap between potential and performance. This involved three things: solid fundamentals, physical conditioning, and mental discipline.

Barry took this philosophy to heart and decided to go to Santa Barbara. He was now convinced he could work his way to the top of the draft.

ON THE RISE

Santa Barbara was like San Diego without the traffic and the military. It was warm, it was cool, and it made Barry feel like anything was possible. When a bunch of his friends asked him if he surfed, he lied and said yeah. He bought his own board and hit the waves 60 days in a row until he could hang a respectable ten. On a visit home, he tried San Diego’s notorious Black Beach when the waves were more than 15 feet high. One near-death experience later he swore off surfing forever...then was back on the board the very next weekend.

Barry was no less tenacious on the mound. He was named a freshman All-American despite toiling for a sub-.500 team that finished last in the Big West’s southern division. In 1998, Barry transferred to the baseball factory at Pierce Junior College in Los Angeles. He went 9-2 with 135 strikeouts in 103 innings to earn All-State and All-Conference honors. Now recognized as one of the country’s best pitchers, he was offered a full ride at USC.

Barry was also drafted by the Texas Rangers in the third round. It wasn’t the first round, but it was close enough—assuming he got a respectable signing bonus. What he got was a lack of respect. Barry asked for $350,000, which was about right for the 83rd pick. The Rangers were unwilling to go above $300,000. Despite his bargaining history, Ranger execs felt he would come around.

They were wrong.

Barry pitched for Wareham in the Cape Cod League over the summer, then returned to Pierce in the fall to finish up the credits he need to attend Southern Cal. The spring semester found him in a Trojans uniform. The Rangers, like the M’s two years earlier, were left holding an empty bag.

The 1999 Trojans, coming off a national championship, were reloading for a new season. Among the team’s stars were future major league sluggers Jason Lane and Eric Munson, who were replacing 1998 draftees Morgan Ensberg, Robb Gorr and Jeremy Freitas. The trio had accounted for more than 50 home runs the year before. Barry would be asked to fill the shoes of another draftee, Seth Etherton, who had won 13 times in ’98.

Barry answered the call with a 12-3 record and 154 strikeouts in 113 innings of work. A First-Team All-American, he was now viewed as a no-brainer first-round pick. Meanwhile, the Trojans, under Mike Gillespie, finished the 1999 campaign with a somewhat disappointing 33-23 record, but earned a bid to the NCAA Tournament. After advancing out of its regional round, USC lost to Stanford and was bumped out of the tournament. In the June draft, as he had long hoped, Barry went in the first round, to the Oakland A’s, who used the ninth selection on him. Munson, who had a lights-out season, was the #3 pick, by the Tigers.

Barry signed for a $1.59 million bonus and was assigned to Oakland’s Class-A team in Visalia. He started eight games and went 3-0 with a 2.45 ERA under what turned out to be extremely trying conditions. Barry’s mom developed cirrhosis and had fallen desperately ill that spring. In need of a liver transplant, she was fading fast. He set land speed records driving back and forth from Visalia to Cedar Sinai Hospital in L.A., trying to be with her as much as he could. A matching donor was found in July, and Roberta pulled through.

With family matters under control, Barry began a rapid ascent through the farm system. He was promoted to Midland and went 2-1 to finish the Class-AA schedule, then got a start at AAA Vancouver, striking out six and allowing a lone earned run in six innings. He played a key role in the Canadians’ Pacific Coast League and AAA World Series championships, allowing just four earned runs in two post-season starts. All told, between college and pro ball, Barry’s 1999 record was a remarkable 19-5.

MAKING HIS MARK

The 2000 season found Barry in the A’s major league camp, mowing down batters and impressing the hell out of his coaches. Oakland management decided he would begin the season at Sacramento, the new home of the team’s AAA affiliate, and stay there as long as possible before the inevitable call-up. In 18 starts for the RiverCats, Barry went 8-5 with a 3.19 ERA and held batters to a .230 average. There was talk of bringing him up in June, but the team held out until late July.

The A’s were locked in a struggle for their first division title in eight years. Barry joined a rotation led by young guns Mark Mulder and Tim Hudson, and filled out by veterans Gil Heredia and Kevin Appier. The rookie got his first start against the Angels. He cruised along until the fifth inning, when Anaheim loaded the bases with none out and Mo Vaughn, Tim Salmon and Garrett Anderson due up. Serving up a masterful mix of fastballs and curves, Barry retired all three stars on strikes. His teammates exchanged gleeful glances as they realized what kind of pitcher he was. The team’s pitching coach already knew. His name was Rick Peterson.

Oakland went on to beat the Halos, giving Barry his first major league W. He made 13 more starts for the A’s, finishing with a 7-4 record. His 2.72 ERA was the lowest among all rookies and the best ever for an Oakland newcomer. AL batters mustered a miniscule .195 average against him. With the A’s going down to the wire against the Mariners, Barry posted a 5-1 record in his six September starts—including a shutout against Tampa Bay. His only loss came when the A’s were blanked by the Orioles.

After winning the West, the brash, young A’s went into the post-season against the battle-hardened New York Yankees. After splitting the first two games of their best-of-five Divisional Series in Oakland, the teams jetted east to the Bronx for the next two. The Yanks beat Hudson in Game 3, pushing the A’s right to the brink. Manager Art Howe handed the ball to Barry and told him to save the season. The rookie responded by handcuffing New York into the sixth inning, allowing one run on seven hits. His teammates pounded Roger Clemens and three relievers for an 11-1 victory that stunned the home crowd.

Older fans could not help feeling a bit of deja vu. Another west coast southpaw with a live fastball and an 11-to-5 curve had undone the Yankees 27 years earlier. His name was Koufax, and Barry’s breaker on that chilly night in New York was every bit as good as Sandy’s had been the day he fanned 15 pinstripers on the very same mound in the opening game of the 1963 World Series.

With the Yanks forced to return to California for the deciding game, confidence was sky-high. But a disastrous first inning in Game 5 sealed Oakland’s fate, and Barry’s fine performance was wasted, as the Yankees prevailed by a score of 7-5.

Needless to say, great things were expected of Barry heading into the 2001 season. The A’s were heavy favorites in the AL West, and now had the experience to compete in the post-season. Unfortunately, a sluggish spring and a record start by the Mariners combined to eliminate Oakland from the division race by the All-Star break.

Barry was part of the problem. He allowed 25 runs in his first 26 innings, and it didn’t get much better from there. After 22 starts his record was just 6-7, and his ERA was over 5.00. Instead of getting big outs against opponents, they were getting clutch hits. The low point came during a week that saw him get pounded in back-to-back starts against the lowly Twins. Barry was lost, and only one person could help find him.

Joe Zito drove up from Los Angeles and moved in with his son for the last week of July. For four straight days they did nothing but talk about pitching. Joe brought some of the baseball books he and his son had read years earlier, and they reread them together. Somewhere during those 96 hours, Barry got back to a place and time when baseball was a simple, easy game. And then he built himself back up.

The change in Barry was astonishing. He was the best pitcher in baseball over the last two months, with an 11-1 record and 1.32 ERA. He reeled off nine straight victories to finish the season, and the A’s ended up with 102 wins and a Wild Card berth. Barry’s final numbers were good, yet they barely hinted at how well he threw. His record stood at 17-8, with a 3.49 ERA and 205 strikeouts.

Barry’s great pitching continued in the playoffs, once again against the Yankees. This time, he got the ball in Game 3 with a chance to close out New York, which had dropped the first two contests. Barry dazzled the Yanks, allowing just two hits and striking out six in eight masterful innings. His lone mistake was a fat pitch to Jorge Posada that he hammered for a solo home run. Unfortunately for the A’s, it was the only run of the game. Oakland failed to score against Mike Mussina and lost, 1-0. The Yankees took the next two games from the stunned A’s and left them on the outside looking in for the second October in a row.

That winter, Barry returned to his Hollywood apartment, switched agents, and began courting the media. Already known as a quote machine, he granted the press unfettered access to the inner workings of his mind. During an unforgettable hourlong appearance on Jim Rome’s “The Last Word” he shot the breeze, played some guitar and completely disarmed the heavily armed talkshow host. Barry also replaced Tim Hudson as the team’s player rep, after the birth of Hudson’s daughter. He actually enjoyed the conference calls and strategy meetings, especially with a complex and interesting topic like contraction on the table.

The A’s broke camp in 2002 minus three key contributors. RBI man Jason Giambi, closer Jason Isringhausen and leadoff hitter Johnny Damon all flew the coop via free agency. The A’s acquired Toronto’s Billy Koch as a stopgap closer and replaced the missing bats with solid situational hitters. Shortstop Miguel Tejada and third baseman Eric Chavez blossomed into MVP-caliber performers, and the starters hit their collective stride by June. Although Seattle started off hot again, the Mariners could not maintain the previous year’s torrid pace. Oakland hung close and by early August were within striking range of the M’s and resurgent Angels.

To a great degree, Barry’s season mirrored his team’s. He did not win until his sixth start, and did not get his record above .500 until mid May. From then until the end of the year, however, he was magical. During one six-week period, he was 9-0 and reached double-digits in strikeouts twice. After a June 27 loss to the Mariners, Barry went 5-0 in July and appeared in his first All-Star Game.

Barry was beaten in his first two August starts, but was perfect the rest of the way, winning eight straight to finish 23-5. During that time the A’s went on a winning streak of their own, capturing a league-record 20 straight victories. Oakland then prevailed in a tight duel with the Angels for the division crown.

Winning the AL West meant the A’s did not have to deal with the Yankees in the first round. Instead, they played the overachieving Twins, champions of the Central Division. After clinching the division on September 26, Art Howe set up his playoff rotation. Tim Hudson (15-9) and Mark Mulder (19-7) would start the first two games against the Twins in Oakland, then Barry—who historically had trouble with Minnesota—would go in Game 3.

The A’s were heavy favorites, but the pesky Twins took Game 1 when the Oakland bullpen failed to hold a big lead. Mulder pitched a gem in Game 2, then Barry followed with a nice outing to give the A’s a 2-1 lead and control of the series. The tables turned, however, when Hudson threw poorly in Game 4 and the Twins won 11-2. The decisive fifth game began as a pitching duel between Mulder and Brad Radke, but slipped away when Koch came on and gave up three late runs. Once again, the A’s made a first-round exit. Ironically, the Angels defeated the Yankees, then beat the Twins and Giants to win the championship. To a man, the A’s felt that title should have been theirs.

Barry capped off his great season with the Cy Young Award, which he won over Pedro Martinez. The seventh-youngest pitcher to win the trophy, he was the first of Oakland’s Big Three to cop the award. In 2000, many felt Hudson should have won; ditto for Mulder in 2001.

For the A’s, the 2002 off-season brought more defections. Most notably, Howe left for the Mets, and was replaced by Ken Macha. Also, Koch was traded away to the White Sox, with Keith Foulke brought in to the take over the closing duties. By now, however, Oakland fans had gotten used to these December panic attacks. As a small-market club, they knew the drill. But they also were secure in the fact that they still had a competitive team to root for. With Barry and the other two aces, the A’s still had pitching. Meanwhile, budding superstars like Tejada and Chavez gave them enough solid bats. And with a crafty GM like Billy Beane, somehow they figured to get the right mix of players come crunch time.

Early in the 2003 campaign, however, Oakland slumped. Tejada was the main culprit. In the walk-year of his contract, he pressed at the plate, the thought of showcasing his skills for potential suitors apparently getting the best of him.

Barry, by contrast, didn’t skip a beat from his Cy Young season. Through the year’s first two months, he went 6-4 with an ERA under 3.00. Though his numbers fell off in June, he was still chosen by Anaheim skipper Mike Scioscia for the AL All-Star team. But, in a strange series of events, Barry was yanked off the squad. With the Commissioner’s office looking for a way to add Roger Clemens to the roster, a decision was made to give him Barry’s spot. The problem was that fans and the media found out about the move before the lefty did. Barry handled the situation like a consummate pro, understanding why baseball wanted Clemens to pitch once more in the Mid-Summer Classic and not raising a big fuss about it.

As they normally do, the A’s heated up heading into August, and in the blink of an eye passed the Mariners for first in the AL West. Even an injury to Mulder didn’t slow down the team. By then, Tejada had regained his stroke, Beane had acquired a much-needed bat in the form of Jose Guillen, and the pitching staff was rounding into shape as a whole. Barry was working out some kinks, too. Though he struggled at times for his command and lost his rhythm, he came through with clutch starts down the stretch to help Oakland secure the division title.

In the first round of the playoffs, the A’s were matched against the mighty Boston Red Sox. Oakland drew first blood, seizing a 2-0 series lead behind solid pitching and timely hitting. Barry pitched in Game Two, and baffled the Red Sox for seven masterful innings. Heading to Beantown, the A’s looked to be in total control. But a pair of painfully weird losses by Oakland turned the ALDS around. In both defeats, the A’s bungled routine defensive plays and committed egregious baserunning blunders to keep Boston alive.

In Game Five, Barry (on three days rest) squared off against Pedro Martinez. After cruising through the first five innings, he began to tire, surrendering four runs in the sixth. That one bad stanza proved to be the difference. Though the A’s loaded the bases in the ninth, they couldn’t push across the tying run, and fell 4-3.

Afterwards, Barry and his teammates were left to ponder their collapse. No team in recent history has had more difficulty closing out playoff series. Why Oakland failed again in the postseason was a mystery. Even Beane, one of the game’s brightest minds, couldn’t figure it out.

That being said, the Oakland GM knew his pitching staff was set. With three dominant starters—any of whom would be the ace in another rotation—the A’s figured to remain a pennant contender. While young Rich Harden hoped to give the team a fourth “#1” starter, the weight of winning still fell directly on the trio’s shoulders.

Barry understood this dynamic, and seemed to revel in the challenge. Thanks to his Cy Young award, he was forced to deal with new pressures during the ‘03 campaign. Though he slumped at times on the mound, he received passing marks overall for his follow-up season (14-12, 3.30 ERA).

Entering the 2004 season, the question on everyone's mind was whether Barry could regain his Cy Young form without his longtime pitching coach Rick Peterson, who joined his former boss, Art Howe, in New York with the Mets. Peterson had received a lot of the behind-the-scenes credit for the success of Barry, Mulder and Hudson. All three were eager to prove they could thrive on their own.

Barry looked terrific in his first start of the year, going eight strong innings in Texas. Though the A's lost 2-1, the outing was a good sign for the lefty. A week later, however, the Rangers battered him around in Oakland. But the club—minus Tejada, who had signed as a free agent with Baltimore—surprised with an offensive barrage of its own to hand Barry his first win on the young campaign.

It was more of the same as the season moved towards the All-Star break. Struggling with his command, Barry couldn't get himself on track. His record stood at 4-7, and trade rumors circulated that he was headed to any number of teams, including the Mets, who were in the market for a top-of-the-rotation arm. With the lefty due a pay raise in 2005, the A's didn't do much to contain the speculation.

Barry showed signs of rebounding in July, winning his last three starts of the month. With the race in the AL West heating up, Oakland was thrilled to see the improvement. Anaheim and Texas were each poised to make a run, and the A's looked to their veteran staff for help. Ironically, however, it was Harden who logged the most consistent innings.

The A’s struggled down the stretch, but remained in the thick of things. As the campaign's final weekend approached, Oakland was tied with the Angels. With the teams scheduled to square off in a three-game series, the A's needed two victories to move on to the playoffs. When Anaheim blasted Mulder on Friday night, all the pressure shifted to Barry. He came up big, throwing seven innings of three-hit ball and leaving with a 4-2 lead. But the bullpen collapsed in the eighth, and Oakland was eliminated from the postseason picture.

For Barry, the '04 campaign raised more questions than it answered. At 11-11 with a 4.48 ERA, Barry scuffled through the worst season of his career. Every now and then, he flashed his Cy Young stuff, but more often than not he fizzled. To his credit, he took the ball every time his number was called and didn't try to hide from the media.

Barry upped his victory total to 14 in 2005, but lost a career-high 13. He had an up and down season, with the biggest up in July, when he went 6–0 and won eight straight starts from late June to early August. Barry’s biggest down was April, when he failed to win a game.

The A’s chased the Angels most of the year, then lost them in September, finishing with 88 wins, six games out of the AL West and seven out of the Wild Card.

In 2006, Barry pitched the entire year for the A’s amidst rumors that the team was trying to trade him. In the final year of his contract, Oakland admitted it held out no hope of resigning him. As the trade deadline approached, the Mets made a big push for Barry, hoping to beef up their aging staff for the postseason. But New York would not give up Lastings Milledge and Aaron Heilman, the players Oakland wanted. Barry wound up the season in green and gold, with 16 victories—his best total since 2002—and a 3.83 ERA. The A’s, powered by Frank Thomas and Nick Swisher, won the West, fnishing four games ahead of the Angels.

Barry got the ball for the opening game of the Division Series and outpitched Johan Santana of the Twins in a marvelous duel that ended in Oakland’s favor, 3–2. The victory triggered a three-game sweep that sent the A’s to the ALCS, with yet another chance to win the pennant.

Alas, it was not to be. Barry was chased in the fourth inning of his start against the Detroit Tigers, who went on to win the game and the series, denying Oakland a chance to reach the World Series.

After the season, Barry sat back and enjoyed a bidding war orchestrated by his new agent, Scott Boras. Among the teams vying for his services were the Mets, Rangers, Mariners, and Giants. San Francisco prevailed, inking him for seven years at $128 million.

Barry will be throwing for a new team in a new league, and—the Giants hope—enjoying the fruits of one of the game’s more generous pitcher’s parks. The team will try to beef up the bullpen and add youth and depth to the lineup surrounding him, but make no mistake about it, Barry is expected to lead the Giants back to the World Series.

San Francisco is staking its future on one of Barry's core beliefs: He has never settled for anything less than his best. Whether he spends his offseasons touring Japan with Major League Baseball's hand-picked All-Star team or at home surfing with buddies like Ryan Klesko and Brent Mayne, his focus always stays on his job.

What else goes on in that head of his is anyone’s guess. Which, of course, is just the way Barry likes it.

BARRY THE PLAYER

Although Barry isn’t the hardest thrower in baseball, he is capable of hitting the low 90s when he rears back and fires the ball. His comfort zone—and control—is in the upper 80s. When you have the best curve in baseball, that’s fast enough.

When Barry doesn’t have his curve working, it becomes a battle of wits with the hitters. Needless to say, he is well equipped in this department. He has come to trust the pinpoint control of his fastball to get him out of tough spots—a major breakthrough in his evolution as a major league hurler.

Surviving with his second-best pitch has become easier as his changeup has developed. Barry will throw it to anyone at any time, and that adds an extra foot to his fastball. The real key to his success is the fact that he delivers all three pitches from the same spot, with the same arm speed.

How Barry fares as a hitter now that he is in the senior circuit is hard to say. He was indifferent at the plate in interleague play and sports one of the lowest batting averages in recent memory. Barry claims that it’s a clean slate, and that handling the bat will become a priority going for forward.

With a Cy Young Award under his belt, a fat contract in his pocket and a burgeoning postseason résumé, Barry’s confidence is sky high. The Giants are hoping that rubs off on his teammates, whom he will lead into battle in his new home, the NL West.