Phil Regan wasn't a household name to casual fans, but if you followed pitching development in the majors at any point since the 1960s, he was always somewhere in the picture. ESPN's Jeff Passan reported the news first, relaying that Regan's attorney, Matt Blit, confirmed the death. He was 89.
Longtime pitching coach Phil Regan, whose career in baseball spanned seven decades, died today, his attorney, Matt Blit, told ESPN. Regan was 89. He managed the Baltimore Orioles for one year and served as pitching coach with the Mariners, Cubs, Indians and Mets, among others.
Regan's playing career alone would've been a nice life's work for most guys. He broke in with the Tigers, but it was in Los Angeles where he made his name, going 14-1 with a 1.62 ERA and leading the National League in saves for the 1966 pennant-winning Dodgers as Koufax's teammate. That performance earned him the nickname "The Vulture" -- reportedly from Koufax himself -- for his habit of swooping in for cheap relief wins. He kept that same trick going after a trade to the Cubs, picking up his second NL Fireman of the Year award in 1968.
What made Regan a genuine baseball lifer, though, was the second act. Long after his 13-year playing career ended, he stuck around the game as a scout, manager and pitching coach, refusing to age out of a dugout. He managed the Orioles for a single season, and later turned into one of the sport's most trusted arm whisperers, holding pitching coach jobs with the Mariners, Indians and Cubs.
Maybe the wildest chapter came in 2019, when the Mets brought Regan back as their interim pitching coach at 82 years old -- believed to be the oldest person to hold an on-field big league coaching job in the modern era. It was a full-circle, almost absurd flex: a guy who played with Koufax in the 1960s still drawing up pitch sequencing plans for a rotation full of guys born decades after his final big league appearance.
That's the through-line on Regan's career that makes this one sting a little more than your average front-office obituary. Seven decades in professional baseball, across five organizations and multiple roles, is the kind of run almost nobody gets anymore, in a sport that chews up and spits out coaches every couple of seasons. Rest easy, Vulture.