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Phil Sheridan: Phils can't push Lidge too fast

CLEARWATER, Fla. - Just like everyone else around here, Brad Lidge would love to close out his condo, put his car on one of the trucks headed north, and get on with his season.

CLEARWATER, Fla. - Just like everyone else around here, Brad Lidge would love to close out his condo, put his car on one of the trucks headed north, and get on with his season.

The Phillies' closer doesn't get to scratch this particular itch. Not tomorrow, when the team breaks camp. Not Monday, when the regular season opens with a first pitch by the president in Washington. Not until sometime in the middle of April, maybe later.

As hard as that is on Lidge, it is the correct and proper thing for the Phillies to do. They have to let time work its healing power on his surgically repaired knee and elbow. It is vitally important for Lidge to get himself right for the long haul, not just push himself to join the team as early as possible.

"Coming into spring training, they told me two weeks into the season is where I want to be," Lidge said, referring to the Phillies' training staff. "I'm optimistic, so I hoped it would be quicker. We talked about that the other day. They said, 'You wanted to be ahead of schedule, but the schedule we had you on was for two weeks into the season. So if that's what happens, that was the right schedule.' "

It may sound obvious today that Lidge has to take his time. The trick is remembering that in a week or so, especially if Ryan Madson does what he did here Monday afternoon. In a tie game, Madson tossed a fat ninth-inning fastball that Atlanta's Eric Hinske drove to the berm behind the right-field wall.

Giving up a game-winning home run is no big deal on a windy afternoon in the Grapefruit League. But it's the sort of thing that will trigger night sweats if it happens in Washington or at the Bank, the sort of thing that will start the drumbeat for Lidge to hurry up and save the day.

The explanation offered by pitching coach Rich Dubee, perhaps intended to dismiss the import of the gopher ball, actually underscored the problem with Madson.

"He was dead today," Dubee said, hinting at the spring doldrums as a cause. "He threw a [batting practice] fastball. It was something he hasn't done since probably 2002."

Results aren't as important as fine-tuning your game at this point in spring training, but developing a closer's mentality is what Madson needs to work on. Overthinking a 3-0 pitch and grooving a fastball could happen as easily in April or September as in March.

The Phillies don't need Madson to be their closer for the season. They need him only to get them through two or three weeks until Lidge returns. But it would be awfully handy if Madson could put it together. Given Lidge's history of injuries, the Phillies would love to have a viable alternative on the roster.

It is the position they have had the least success developing. Since the emergence of the closer as a specialist in the 1970s, the Phillies have developed exactly one, Ricky Bottalico, who was effective for more than a season or so. From Gene Garber to Tug McGraw to Steve Bedrosian to Mitch Williams to Billy Wagner to Lidge, the Phillies have had to find their closers elsewhere.

Twenty hours after Hinske took Madson deep, Lidge warmed up at the Carpenter Complex for his fifth game action of the spring. Facing Phillies minor-leaguers, he gave up a leadoff double to Jonathan Villar, then walked Jiwan James on five pitches. After a groundout advanced Villar to third, he scored on a throwing error by catcher Tim Kennelly.

Lidge seemed to get better as he pitched, retiring the next two batters. He threw 20 pitches, 10 for strikes, and allowed one unearned run on one hit and a walk.

The real line: no pain but still not the velocity he needs to get big-league hitters out. Lidge said he was throwing about 87 or 88 m.p.h., well off the 95 or so he needs to set up his slider. Some of that will come with the adrenaline of pitching in the ninth inning of a big-league game.

"In '08, I couldn't throw more than 92, 93 when I left here," Lidge said. "Then, the first game I was at 95 when I got to the big leagues, because I was facing [Ken] Griffey Jr. with runners on base. You can't simulate that down here. You can't trick your brain. We don't need to see 95 down here, because we know that last couple miles an hour will only come up there."

Lidge has to pitch his way there, however long it takes. That will be true whether Madson can hold the fort for a couple of weeks or if cries for the cavalry can be heard all the way from Philadelphia.