You could add Jim Fregosi and Mitch Williams in the 93 WS to your list.
Granted, that Toronto team was a great team and I didn't feel too bad when the Phillies lost to them given the level of competition, but...
Fregosi had gassed Williams in the NLDS and WS..."Wild Thing" had essentially flamed out by the time Joe Carter won the Series for Toronto. 
@SZonian Whether Mitch Williams was gassed by the time he came into Game Six of the 1993 World Series may be very open for debate.
If you look up his 1993 regular season, Williams had 65 appearances and 62 innings pitched. Jim Fregosi took the clue from Tony La Russa viz Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley and restricted Williams to ninth-inning use very strictly. He had 43 saves and six blown saves on the season, and Williams himself credited the Phillies' two primary setup men that season (Larry Andersen and David West) for the saves:
I will say to the day I die that the seventh and eighth innings are harder to pitch than the ninth because you have to make quality pitches. In the ninth inning, hitters don't have a safety net; they don't have that many batters coming up after them. The guys who pitch the seventh and eighth innings don't have that much margin for error. They get the important outs. I got all the recognition for the save. Well, a lot of times that season, the save happened in the seventh or eighth inning. Those guys made my job a hell of a lot easier.(Williams was so appreciative that it's said that when the regular season ended he sprung for expensive gifts for everyone in the Phillies' bullpen that year.)
In the 1993 NLCS, Williams got into four of the games and pitched five and a third in-game innings. He got credit for the wins in Games One and Five; he earned saves in Games Four and Six:
* Game One---Williams surrendered the tying run in the ninth and the game went to extra innings. Williams pitched two full innings in that gig. He faced eleven batters and threw 43 pitches over the two innings, 24 in the ninth and 19 in the tenth. (The Phillies won on a walkoff RBI double.)
* Game Four---Williams was asked for a four-out save when Phillies starter Danny Jackson found himself with a pair of two-out baserunners. Williams got the third out, then pitched a ninth marred by an infield error leaving him with first and second and nobody out. He got a forceout at third base and a double play to end the game. He threw sixteen pitches in that outing and never got to a ball three count while he was at it.
* Game Five---Curt Schilling took a 3-0 shutout into the ninth when he opened with two on thanks to a leadoff walk and another infield error. Fregosi went to Williams. Fred McGriff punched Williams's first pitch through the hole at short for an RBI single and David Justice took six pitches to hit a sacrifice fly. Terry Pendleton followed with a base hit and Francisco Cabrera tied the game with an RBI single.
Then Williams got the final two outs of the inning. After Lenny Dykstra homered in the top of the tenth to make it 4-3, Phillies, Fregosi brought in Andersen to save it, which he did with a leadoff fly out and back-to-back strikeouts.
* Game Six---Williams was sent out to pitch the ninth and for once it was spotless, on both his and the infield's part. 1-2-3 and the Phillies won the pennant.
Now---if Fregosi had been like Tommy Lasorda and Pete Rose in handling their bullpens, maybe Williams
was gassed. By which I mean you'd have to try to remember how often he was warmed up before coming into a game and how many pitches he was allowed to throw in the bullpen before he was brought in. (Lasorda and Rose were notorious for warming up relievers, sitting them, warming them up again, then either bringing them in or leaving them be, and if leaving them be they'd warm those pitchers up again the next game once or twice more before bringing them in, then be shocked to discover, as Rose once said, "He ain't pitched in three days!" Blissfully unaware that they might have pitched the equal of two quality starts' worth of pitches in the bullpen. What a surprised those guys would be gassed!)
Game Two was a Braves blowout, so Williams wasn't likely to have been warmed up there. In Game Three the Braves got out of hand with a five-run sixth and a four-run seventh, so Williams likely didn't poke his nose out of his bullpen hole in that game, either.
Now, the World Series:
* Game One---Curt Schilling ran out of fuel in the seventh with the Blue Jays taking a 5-4 lead; the game ended with an 8-5 Blue Jays win. Williams wasn't even a topic.
* Game Two---Williams relieved Roger Mason (who'd relieved starter Terry Mulholland in the sixth) in the eighth and inherited Hall of Famer Paul Molitor on second with a leadoff double before Mason struck out Joe Carter. Williams paid no attention to Molitor as he went to work on John Olerud, and Molitor stole third before Olerud brought him home with a sacrifice fly. (That, by the way was the moment Schilling continued his postseason habit of putting a towel over his head while Williams pitched, which drove Williams and a few other teammates to no end of mad.) Then Williams walked Hall of Famer Roberto Alomar, who stole second almost in a blink. This time Williams didn't ignore the runner; Alomar broke to steal third, but Williams in mid-delivery turned and whipped a throw to third to nail Alomar for the side. The ninth was a little less high-wire: a leadoff walk, a ground out, and a game-ending double play. 6-4, Phillies.
But it took Williams 27 pitches to get out of the eighth and 13 in the ninth. Forty pitches in two innings. If that was a starting pitcher, you might start worrying that he'd throw 80 pitches before the fifth inning arrived.
Williams, by the way, called Schilling out about the towel bit in the clubhouse after the game:
You're a great pitcher. But sooner or later you won't be able to pitch anymore and you'll have to be a man. And right now, you aren't acting like a very good one.* Game Three---By the seventh inning the Blue Jays led 9-2; the final would be 10-3, Jays. Williams probably wasn't even a warmup topic.
* Game Four---The 15-14 loss, charged to Williams. Bad enough: The Phillies blew 6-3, 12-7, and 14-9 leads before losing. Worse: Williams was brought in to protect that 14-9 lead with one out and two on after Andersen surrendered the tenth run on Molitor's RBI double. It went like so: RBI single, walk, strikeout, RBI single, two-run triple. 15-14, Blue Jays; the score held through the end of the ninth.
Williams threw twenty pitches in his turn. He actually got behind only his first two hitters; he struck out Ed Sprague on three pitches, he had Hall of Famer Rickey Henderson at 1-1 when Henderson slashed the RBI single, and he had Devon White at 1-2 when White ripped the two-run triple. But still . . .
* Game Five---Schilling's 2-0 masterpiece, and the first Phillies complete game Series win since Hall of Famer Robin Roberts in the 1950s series.
Very important:
While Schilling was pitching that shutout, a deranged fan called the Phillies threatening Williams's life, specifying the 15-14 game while the fan was at it. Williams himself was told about it when he got home from the game at 2 a.m. Needless to say, Williams was scared to death---he actually stayed up all night holding his gun in his hand just in case. He insisted no one would scare him
that much out of pitching when called upon, but don't think for a minute that he was completely able to push it out of his mind.
* Game Six---Williams didn't have to come in in the middle of an inning this time. He had a 6-5 lead to protect. But he was facing the top of the Jays lineup not by design but because two Phillies relievers faltered in the eighth; though no one scored, the bottom of the Jays order wasn't going to be Williams's target. And then:
---The Wild Thing walked Henderson on four pitches to open. Phillies pitching coach Johnny Podres suggested Williams go to the slide step when delivering to keep Henderson from stealing.
---He got White to fly out on a full count, but served Molitor a base hit for first and second.
---He had Joe Carter at 2-2 and shook off a sign for a second consecutive slider, thinking, as he said later, he had a better chance to get rid of Carter with a fastball up and away. Apparently, Podres insisted Williams stay with the slide step; Williams said later that not going with his full high leg kick meant the pitch going down and level because slide-stepping makes you rush the pitch a little too much.
Williams never flinched from the homer. He sat at his locker for a couple of hours afterward answering even the most inane questions with no excuses. He never blamed anyone else for the home run pitch.
So what do I think after all the foregoing?
I notice that only twice in the entire postseason did Jim Fregosi ask Mitch Williams for more than a three-out save.
I think Williams
may have been a little gassed when he got into Game Six, but I don't know just how likely it is, and I don't know whether the blame belongs to Fregosi's usage of him or to Williams's own high-wire, high-pitches performances.
I think Williams would rather have walked through a gasoline fire wall than admit the pre-Game Six death threat he was told about shook him up, and if he said later that he sat up most of the night into the morning holding his gun in his hand he was
very shaken up by it.
I think Williams should have ignored his pitching coach and done away with the slide step delivery when pitching to Carter.
I think Podres should have known better than to keep Williams on the slide step, especially since he didn't use one in Game Two with Alomar on base and was still able to nail him trying to steal third, so it's not impossible that even without a slide step he could have nailed Henderson if Henderson had a thought about stealing third.
And, I think what happened to Williams after the World Series ended was an absolute disgrace: In the immediate moment, his teammates stood by their man, but days later first Lenny Dykstra and then Curt Schilling took it to the press---first saying it wouldn't be wise for Williams to remain with the Phillies, but then, especially Schilling, calling outright for Williams to be traded. Schilling's disdain was so pronounced that nobody reminded him, when he suggested Williams was "tired" at the end of the regular season, that a closer restricted to the ninth inning and actually pitching a shade less innings than the number of games he appeared in couldn't exactly be gassed. Williams did get traded after the World Series, to the Astros, and he was never the same pitcher again. In the years that followed, Williams never rejected responsibility for the Series loss while Dykstra and Schilling continued taking pot shots at him, especially after those few occasions when he responded to them.
Strangely enough, when Williams was traded, as he recalls in his memoir
Straight Talk from Wild Thing, the Phillies owners also thought he'd be "crucified" the next season if he stayed in Philadelphia. "They didn't understand," Williams wrote, "that the fans appreciated that I didn't run and hide after the World Series or during the off-season. They knew I was a guy who fit into their city. They knew that every day I walked out there I gave everything I had."
He was proven right when he returned to Philadelphia for the first time as an Astro---he got a standing O from the Veterans Stadium crowd. Indeed they had remembered and respected that he didn't run and hide while some of his teammates went from standing by him in the immediate aftermath to hoping publicly that he'd be run out of town.
And---much the way Ralph Branca and Bobby Thomson did (
I lost a ballgame but I gained a friend---Ralph Branca), until the confirmation that the 1951 Giants did indeed have a somewhat sophisticated sign-stealing scheme in operation during that 1951 pennant race comeback---Williams and Carter have since forged a friendship, from autograph shows together to television appearances, all the way to charity bowling tournaments together.
