A pitcher for the San Francisco Giants baseball team in the early 1990s. To fans of other major league teams, he was normal mediocre pitcher. To fans of the Giants, he was a horrifying monster who still causes nightmares.

When Trevor first cracked the big leagues, he was touted as the Next Big Thing. He was young, his fastball was live, and his curveballs were sharp. However, Trevor had a fatal flaw: his emotions.

Whenever he got into a jam, he'd get mad at himself and stare down at his feet with a painful grin on his face. Invariably, the jam would explode into a catasrophe, and six runs would cross the plate that inning. Thus, Trevor's career was a mix of eight-inning masterpieces and two-inning, eight-run detonations.

And that grin. Aaargh! I'd watch Trevor (always referred to by his first name) walk the first two batters of an inning, and I'd pray for him to maintain control. Don't grin! Don't grin! Think happy thoughts!

It never worked. The Giants finally got rid of him in 1995.

Trevor tried a comeback with the Anaheim Angels in 1998, which scared the crap out of me.

Stats: http://www.baseball-reference.com/w/wilsotr01.shtml

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