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Duane Ward, the fire-breathing reliever who locked down the late innings for Toronto’s back-to-back World Series championship teams, has died. He was 62.

The Blue Jays announced Ward’s death in a club release Sunday. According to the team, Ward died of natural causes. He had been in Toronto ahead of the franchise’s weekend celebration of its 1992 and 1993 title teams — a reunion that included the unveiling of a new statue outside Rogers Centre commemorating those back-to-back championships.

Ward arrived in Toronto in 1986 via trade from the Braves and spent his entire big-league career with the Blue Jays through 1995. For most of the early years, he worked as the setup man for Tom Henke — the eighth-inning hammer before the ninth-inning anvil. When Henke departed after the 1992 title, Ward took over the closer’s role and didn’t flinch. In 1993, he posted a 2.13 ERA with 44 saves, anchoring a bullpen that helped Toronto become the first team to repeat as World Series champions in nearly two decades.

The franchise honored the 1992-93 squads this past weekend at Rogers Centre, with former players walking back onto the field one after another. MLB.com’s coverage of the reunion described the old champions as “all 25 years old again.” Ward was among those expected to attend.

Keegan Matheson, the Blue Jays beat reporter for MLB.com, first reported Ward’s death on social media. The club’s release confirmed the circumstances.

Ward led the American League in appearances three times and finished his career with 679 games pitched — all in a Toronto uniform. He recorded 121 saves and a 3.16 ERA over ten seasons. In postseason play, he was virtually untouchable across the 1992 and 1993 October runs, allowing just two earned runs in 14-plus innings of relief.

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There’s a certain kind of player every championship team needs — the one who takes the ball when the stadium’s shaking and nobody’s quite sure what’s about to happen. Ward was that guy. The film doesn’t lie.

Details on memorial arrangements were not immediately available.

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By Dale Hutchins

Dale Hutchins spent twenty-two years pacing the sidelines of Texas high-school football fields before his knees finally called timeout. Now he trades a whistle for a keyboard, bringing an old-school, run-heavy philosophy and a healthy skepticism for spreadsheets to his gridiron analysis. Whether he's comparing a stubborn defense to a Brahma bull or reminding folks to hydrate, Dale always trusts the tape because the film doesn't lie.