"It was never easy for Randy Johnson.
Even when he was slinging fastballs in there at 99 mph and his slider was turning hitters into pretzels, pitching was always a heavy weight for Johnson.
He knew no other way. He'd work himself into a competitive rage on the days he pitched, often fueled by some perceived slight or injustice. He'd give everything he had - both emotionally and physically - so even when he was perfect for nine innings that magical night in Atlanta, it took a young catcher named Robbie Hammock to run toward him with a silly grin on his face before Johnson would allow himself to relax and, finally, crack a smile himself.
"It was a total laser-beam focus," former Diamondbacks general manager Joe Garagiola Jr. said. "He made no apologies for it, nor should he have had to make any apologies. Randy was always one of those people who needed to be leaning into the wind. He understood that. That's what he took out to the mound every five days."
Now that he's won his 300th game, Johnson's career will be defined by numbers. That's how baseball does things.
Hank Aaron had 715. Joe DiMaggio had 56. Johnson has 300.
But a statistical accomplishment - even one as important as 300 wins - can not begin to summarize Johnson's career. Neither can the five Cy Young Awards, the 10 All-Star games, the 4,845 strikeouts or the three wins in the 2001 World Series.
No, at his core, Johnson was - and remains - a laborer.
There's no question God blessed him with extraordinary physical abilities. Men aren't supposed to be able to throw a baseball 100 mph. But Johnson wasn't a finished product when he stepped onto a major league mound for the first time on Sept. 15, 1988. Sure, he could throw hard - and he scared the wits out of left-handed hitters - but he was never quite sure where the ball was going.
After four seasons, his record was 17-26, and he was known more for his mullet than his pitching prowess.
But Johnson's greatest gift - and his biggest burden - is his accountability. He never allows himself to relax. Each day, he has to work harder. Each game, he has to pitch better. He harnessed his fastball and learned to throw his slider for strikes, and by the time he signed with the Diamondbacks in December 1998, he was, at the age of 35, in complete control of his skills.
The next four years, of course, were otherworldly. Johnson won 81 games, never had an ERA higher than 2.64 and struck out 1,417 batters. The numbers didn't make him all that popular - both in the community and the locker room, where Johnson's aloofness distanced him from teammates - but Johnson didn't care."