Barry: The first dedicated reliever entrance song was, of all things, "(Won't You Come Home) Bill Bailey," played on the ballpark organ. This is absolutely true. Betty Boop probably loved it, and there was a pun involved, which I must respect—the pitcher’s name was Bill Dailey—but it did not rock. Sparky Lyle, one of the first and best proto-closers, used “Pomp and Circumstance”—the graduation song. If it’s good enough for Randy Savage it’s good enough for me. But again, it did not rock. Baseball rocking was only invented in 1998, when Padres closer Trevor Hoffman began coming out to AC/DC’s “Hells Bells.”
All of which is to say that the entirety of baseball history and music history have been leading to this moment:
On Saturday night, San Diego closer Mason Miller entered to his new walk-out song, “Blind” by KoЯn. (Sorry. We’ll type it normally the rest of the way.) Luis, in your considered opinion, would you say that this was fucking sick?
Luis: Judging by how many times I’ve watched Miller jog to the mound as Jonathan Davis growls “Are. You. READY?!”, I’d say it is fucking sick, Barry. It is so fucking sick, in fact, that in just one appearance, Miller’s “Blind” entrance has now become my new favorite in all of baseball. Sure, part of that is that Edwin Diaz’s Timmy Trumpet entrance has Temu vibes now that he’s on the Dodgers, and part of that is lingering resentment that Jhoan Duran’s (admittedly sick) Durantula entrance uses a Farruko song that isn’t “Pepas.” (OK, in Duran’s defense, he probably doesn’t want to come out to a song about doing a lot of drugs in the club, but if it works for the Miami Heat…)
But Miller’s usage of “Blind” is, to me, the ideal nu-metal experience in 2026. The genre, which is dumb and stupid and filled to the brim with some of the worst shit of the last 30 or so years in music and music culture, works best when stripped of all context. Hell, it works best when stripped even of the full songs; “Blind” is sick as hell, clearly, but it also has a 30-second breakdown outro that almost always gets a skip from me as soon as Davis wraps up his final “I’m blind!” Luckily for Mason Miller and for me, his entrance wisely ends way before that, and instead just locks in on the song’s gnarly riff and Davis’s unique frontman bravado, which I always found to be the best among the bigger nu metal bands. Speaking of both “Blind” and stripping nu metal of context, Korn’s entrance into Woodstock ‘99 whips incredible amounts of ass; you just have to ignore that the festival is one of the worst things to happen in the last half-century of music:
Barry, talk to me: When did you first become a nu metal guy?
Barry: I can remember discovering System of a Down at summer camp, but I’m not sure that was my origin story. It’s possible I’ve destroyed the part of my brain with that specific memory, possibly by doing nitrous in the parking lot of the Nassau Coliseum before the Family Values tour. I like what you said about nu metal being better stripped of context. I was thinking about some other good intro riffs, and revisited Mudvayne’s “Dig,” which I still hold some fondness for, but cringed at the presentation. So much body paint and hairspray. It’s sort of a miracle that Slipknot has been able to do the mask thing for 30 years and not have it be totally embarrassing.
But really, what we’re talking about here with closers is riffs. AC/DC, Metallica? Riffs up the ass. So there’s really no reason why closers wouldn’t use some sick nu metal riffs once nu metal finally aged into being classic rock. I would love to see a Kornaissance take place across the major leagues. Someone could easily pull off “Falling Away From Me.” It’ll take a brave man to go with “Shoots and Ladders,” however. Scary nursery rhymes over bagpipes? That’s not baseball, Suzyn.
Luis, guess what! You just discovered you can throw 102. The Marlins signed you to close. What are you coming out to?
Luis: This is the question that every baseball fan asks themselves, isn’t it? Well, this or your walkup song as a hitter, but I have definitely thought about this a lot. I’d take a page out of Kyle Schwarber’s book and copy CM Punk for my walkout song; while Schwarber uses “Cult of Personality” as one of his walkup songs, though, I’d go further back to Punk’s Ring of Honor days and do AFI’s “Miseria Cantare - The Beginning,” from 2003’s Sing the Sorrow.
Barry: This rocks. I was really into the Hot Topic era of AFI, and every album of theirs started with a mood-setter that was not quite a full song but not quite an intro either. “Prelude 12/21” would also be a banger for a closer.
Luis: Now that I put that side by side with Miller’s entrance, I realize that wrestling entrances and closer entrances are very similar! Maybe that explains why nu metal works so well as a closer song; it’s only a slight coincidence that both nu metal’s and wrestling’s popularity peaks happened at the exact same time around the turn of the millennium. After all, Limp Bizkit played The Undertaker to the ring once:
I shit on nu metal a lot, and most of the time it’s because the genre is bad, objectively bad, but I actually have a lot of love in my heart for it as a formative immigrant experience. That’s right, buddy, we’re getting serious about nu metal for a second. I first came to nu metal through Korn, actually, and I have a clear memory of it. My family and I moved to the States from Venezuela when I was 7, in 1996. As a second grader, I was probably concerned with whatever second graders are concerned with; running around screaming, surely.
But I also, it turns out, was concerned with Korn: The very first friend I made in the United States was this kid named John, who was taller than everyone else and kind of an asshole, insomuch as 7- and 8-year olds can be assholes. So, of course, John loved Korn, and this wasn’t “Freak on a Leash” Korn, but “Blind” Korn, “A.D.I.D.A.S.” Korn. We were ahead of the curve, in more ways than one; we were certainly both too young to be listening to Korn, but whenever I’d go over to his house to hang out, we’d listen to Korn anyway. Oops! However inappropriate that might have been for our age, I look back on those afternoons as the first time I made a real friend in the United States, and maybe the first time that I truly felt comfortable speaking in English for lengthy periods of time.
Ok, sorry for that tangent, it turns out I have a lot of feelings about Korn, who knew? Barry, I’m both curious to know your potential walkout song and also your favorite nu metal memory. I’m leaving that vague on purpose.
Barry: My entrance song is easy. Pure liquid cocaine:
Favorite nu metal memory? That’s a tough one. I distinctly remember hearing “Spiders” for the first time, after basically only being exposed to top 40 music, and thinking, I didn’t know music could sound like this. I fondly recall being in the pit and getting sprayed down with foam from the Rammstein frontman’s giant prosthetic penis hose. But for me it’s hard to top the experience at Giants Stadium for a truly confusing lineup: Metallica fronted by Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, and Deftones. The show was great, but the crowd was even better. Aging heshers mingling with the nu metal kids, good vibes all around on a painfully hot day. In my section, it was a bunch of teens chopping it up with some dudes in their 50s as if they’d known each other their entire lives. It’s corny to say that music can bring together people from disparate worlds, but it’s true.
That said, Korn being played in San Diego is like “fork found in kitchen.” I’m only surprised it wasn’t P.O.D. Here’s a twist: What is the absolute worst nu metal song that a closer could use?
Luis: I’m so glad you mentioned P.O.D. because my answer has to be “Youth of the Nation.” Not only is it a bad song, but also, imagine walking out to a song about a school shooter. (Maybe in, like, 15 years, someone will be making this connection about “Pumped Up Kicks.”)
In a more lighthearted direction, I’d love to see someone walk out to Limp Bizkit’s truly rancid cover of “Faith,” a cover that has brought me untold amounts of joy every time I spring it on an unsuspecting audience, usually while on a road trip.
I got to hear that at the first concert I can remember going to—the Anger Management Tour in late 2000, with Limp Bizkit headlining and Godsmack opening—and it was bad even for 11-year-old Luis, who listened to some real garbage. (I would go on to see Staind at that same venue—home of the back-to-back champion Florida Panthers, baby—the following year, and that was much worse. Except for “Mudshovel,” good song.) So, one of those two, I think.
Sorry for taking two incredible candidates, but can you beat them with an even worse choice?
Barry: Oh god, Staind. I can tolerate a lot in this genre full of garbage, but I can’t even enjoy them ironically. OK, if I were a closer trying to piss off the largest amount of people, I couldn’t really go wrong with just about any Deadsy, who suck but in a compelling way.
If I were taking this a little more seriously, and wanted to pick a terrible song that one time I actually thought was cool? God help me:
Thank goodness Mason Miller left his song choice to the clubhouse attendants.
Luis: OK, lightning round. Commenters can play too. Let’s Remember Some Nu Metal. System of a Down, “Prison Song.” Linkin’ Park, “Pts.OF.Athrty.” Limp Bizkit, “Counterfeit.” Anything from Kittie’s debut album.
Barry: Incubus, “New Skin.” Slipknot, “Duality.” Orgy, “Stitches.” It’s crazy what a coincidence it is that music peaked when I was in high school. What are the odds?
