Johnson, Martinez, Smoltz, Biggio enter Hall of Fame

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. — In his induction speech at the Baseball Hall of Fame, pitcher Randy Johnson sounded as if he were saying goodbye to old friend.

So long, Big Unit.

“I no longer have a fastball. I no longer have a bad mullet. And my scowl is long gone,” Johnson told the crowd.

Even Johnson’s shiny new bronze plaque shows him cracking a smile. The Big Softie delivered a sweet, nostalgic, often patriotic, 15-minute speech Sunday reflecting on a baseball career that began when his mother, Carol, took the 7-year-old by the hand and trotted him out to sign up for Livermore Little League.

Carol was in the crowd Sunday, on a sweltering New York afternoon, as Johnson stood on a stage that included Sandy Koufax, Steve Carlton, Nolan Ryan and other idols of his youth. The kid who grew up going to games at the Oakland Coliseum and emulating Vida Blue even turned around at one point to personally address a former A’s outfielder.

“I would have been great to face you, Reggie,” Johnson said to Jackson.

Johnson was enshrined in a class with Houston Astros second baseman Craig Biggio, Atlanta Braves pitcher John Smoltz and Boston Red Sox ace Pedro Martinez.

Johnson, a five-time Cy Young Award winner went 303-166 with a 3.29 ERA over 22 major League seasons. He led the league in strikeouts nine times, including six 300-strikeout seasons.

The 6-foot-10 left-hander did so as one of the most intimidating players of his era, as his former manager, Bob Brenly, reminded viewers during an introductory video before Johnson took the stage. Brenly recalled that when Johnson with the Arizona Diamondbacks, the pitcher once asked for more communication during games.

So during Johnson’s next start, Brenly approached him in the dugout between innings — and the pitcher exploded in rage. “See?” Brenly snapped back. “That’s why I don’t talk to you.”

That tightly wound version of Johnson was nowhere to be found Sunday when he choked up several times talking about his family — and about people he barely knew.

Johnson at one point directly addressed Zach Farmer, a dying leukemia patient from Ohio. Farmer, a former All-American left-handed pitcher Ohio State, recently sent word through intermediaries that he wanted to talk baseball with Johnson.

Johnson called him Friday then addressed him again during his speech.

“Zach, I love you” Johnson said, looking directly into a television camera in front of the stage. “I’ve never met you before, but hang in there.”

Johnson later said he considered calling Farmer earlier in that morning, but decided, “What better way to reach out to him than the biggest stage of my professional career?”

Johnson, who has made seven tours with the USO, also invited two veterans from the Wounded Warriors Project, Roy Halvorgen and Kenji Knee-ha-Poll, among his honored guests. The pitcher is a strong backer of the organization that enlists the public’s health for injured service members.

“Without your service to this country, nothing would be possible,” Johnson said. “I’m so grateful to you. Thanks so much for being here.”

Johnson’s East Bay contingent included Eric Hoff, his coach at Livermore High, as well as longtime friend and teammate Steve Fallon.

But Johnson saved his most heartfelt tribute for his family.

Bud Johnson, his father, worked security at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. The pitcher recalled, with a crack in his voice, recalled how his dad would show up for practices and games still dressed in his police uniform. “I never forgot those moments,” he said.

Bud Johnson died on Christmas Day 1992, living long enough to see only a glimmer of his son’s future greatness — a no-hitter against the Detroit Tigers in 1990.

The new Hall of Famer recalled that he phoned his dad after that game and Bud was restrained in his praise: “It was far from perfect,” he told his son. The pitcher had walked seven.

Johnson addressed Bud again Sunday — this time from the stage: “Fourteen years later, I was perfect, Dad,” Johnson said, referring to his perfect game against the Atlanta Braves in 2004.

Johnson credited his mom for starting his baseball career. Carol worked as a secretary at General Electric for 25 years. Because both parents worked — while raising six kids — Johnson recalled that he was on his own to sign up for Little League. But he couldn’t find the proper location.

When his mom got home from work, and heard what happened, “She took me by the hand, took me to my first Little League practice, making sure that baseball would start for me on that day,” Johnson said. “I love you, mom. You’re the most important person in my life.”

Johnson spent his final season with the Giants, in 2009. In an otherwise forgettable year, the left-hander won his 300th game in June. He pitched six innings against the Washington Nationals, with his son, Tanner, serving as a batboy.

“Winning the 300th game was great,” he said, “but watching how emotional my son was, that was even better.”

Johnson’s daughters, Samantha, Lexie and Willow, were also in the crowd.

About an hour after it was over, Johnson seemed relieved and weary. It was as if he’d just finished one of those 150-pitch outings from his prime, back when he was still The Big Unit with that mullet and that scowl.

“It was extremely emotional talking about things that I care a lot about,” Johnson said offstage. “Completely different emotions than I would pitch with. But that’s good, because I’m still an emotional person.”