Tony Watson
Look, I’ve interviewed a lot of players, but Tony Watson gave me answers that actually made me pause. The dude pitched in two of the most beautiful ballparks in baseball, had one of the loudest bullpens in postseason history, and somehow managed to throw exactly one pitch in both the All-Star Game and the World Series. Who does that? We talked about everything—PNC’s spotless tunnels, Miami’s nightclub bullpen, and the way playoff baseball in Pittsburgh felt like a pressure cooker finally letting go. This one's not just about stats—it’s about energy, connection, and the magic of the park.
When you look back, how much of a pleasure was it calling PNC Park your home?
People always say it’s the nicest park—and in the moment, you don’t even realize it. It’s just your home: Bill the door guy, your normal parking spot, walking in like it’s any other day. It wasn't until I came back as a visitor that I really appreciated it. The skyline, the bridges, the way the sound reverberates—everything feels close and intimate. The fans are right on you, but in a good way. There’s an old-school, homey vibe that new stadiums don’t always have. And man, that place is clean. I mean, the service tunnels at PNC? Immaculate. You go to other places, it smells like trash. PNC’s spotless.
You also spent time in San Francisco. What was it like having two of the most beautiful ballparks as home fields?
Totally different. Oracle Park is cold—wind swirling, chilly even in August. But the fans were amazing, especially with all those championship teams. What made it unique was the bullpen in the dugout. No phone. You’re just watching the game unfold and sprinting out when you get the call. It’s raw, it’s chaotic. And when you’re done, you walk back through the concourse next to fans getting nachos. Totally different dynamic, but cool in its own way.
Speaking of unique setups…what about Miami and the bullpen next to the Clevelander club?
That was wild. DJ bumping, lights flashing, people in body paint, girls on poles—on a Tuesday. I’m trying to mentally prep to face Stanton, and there’s basically a nightclub ten feet away. It’s Miami. There’s nothing else like it.
You pitched in the 2013 Wild Card game—what was that night like?
The Cueto moment gets all the attention, but what it meant to Pittsburgh is everything. That blackout—fans on the bridges, the anthem, the intros—goosebumps. Clint Barmes told us playoff baseball was different. He was right. The whole city let out a collective roar that night. Loudest outdoor stadium I’ve ever been in. The energy was primal. When Russ hit that homer? Unreal. And even after, people stayed out celebrating. That game was about so much more than baseball.
What do you remember from that moment in the bullpen?
When Cueto dropped the ball, we couldn’t see it from the back bullpen, but we heard that chant rise from the upper deck and roll toward home plate like a wave. Then Russ hit the homer, and the Reds’ bullpen phone was ringing—but no one could hear it. That’s how loud it was.
You ever appreciate the die-hard fans—like the Renegades of the Rotunda?
Every stadium’s got ‘em. You see the same faces—those who show up early for BP, the “lurkers” around the bullpen. They become part of your rhythm. You don’t know their names, but you know them. It's a real bond—even if unspoken.
You made the All-Star Game in 2014. Where were you when you found out?
Clint Hurdle told me in the office. Then they did the team announcement—it was me, Cutch, and Jay Hay. My wife was pregnant at the time, so I called her first. It was in Minneapolis, not far from where I grew up. Just a whirlwind getting everyone there, but man, what an experience.
What’s that like, walking into the clubhouse with the best in the world?
Like being a kid again. Everyone’s doubled up on the bus and no one cares. You walk into the clubhouse and there’s a table just piled with jerseys for signing. Boxes of gear from Nike and Adidas. And you're just thinking, “How am I gonna get all this home?” And then you’re out playing catch with Tim Hudson. Just surreal.
One pitch in the All-Star Game. One pitch in the World Series. How do you explain that?
That’s how you throw 78 games in a season! Just post up and keep it moving. That’s the life of a reliever. I embraced it. One pitch, get your guy, and get out.
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.