April
2002
Just
a Fan: For some baseball "future stars," a rosy picture
clouds
By
Joe Emanski
In the four seasons that I spent as a member of the game-day staff
for the Trenton Thunder, I got paid to watch baseball. I got paid,
in fact, to watch so much baseball that by the time I "retired"
from my duties as press-box attendant, I had ceased actually watching
the ballgames.
Would
you believe that in my time, I met such famous people as former
Boston Red Sox General Manager Dan Duquette, former Phillies pitcher
Bruce Ruffin, and former WOR-TV weatherman Lloyd Lindsey Young?
I also met well-known Boston Globe sportswriter Bob Ryan, who
has ties to the Trenton area, not to mention the same name as
my uncle. (For the record, Bob Ryan-not my uncle-was relatively
brusque. Perhaps the bright yellow "EVENT STAFF" shirt
gave me the annoying air of a bumblebee.)
My personal favorite Thunder moment during that time was in an
extra-inning game, when I convinced public address announcer Brandon
Hardison to tell the crowd that it was time for the "traditional
fourteenth-inning stretch." I had a week of vacation starting
the moment that game ended, and I was the only one in the ballpark
in an official capacity-including the players, who had a bus to
catch-who didn't care if the game ever ended. The sportswriters,
in particular, weren't too happy as the clock passed midnight
and well beyond, their deadlines a distant memory.
Naturally, I also met any number of minor leaguers who were working
for their shot at the big leagues. Among them were a quartet of
"can't-miss" future stars who came through town in 1996:
pitchers Brian Rose and Carl Pavano, shortstop Donnie Sadler and
outfielder Michael Coleman.
Sadly, so far, all four have missed.
I say sadly because, though it may sound like a strange notion,
these players are human beings whose dreams of success, irrespective
of fame and fortune, have not been realized. And they have come
a lot closer than most of us, so the tantalizing aroma of it all
must sometimes be overwhelming to them.
Of the four, only Pavano can say he's really come close to fame,
and it came via a rather dubious route. He surrendered Mark McGwire's
70th home run in 1998, which of course was a record at the time.
Most of the rest of the time, Pavano has battled arm problems
that have his career hanging in the balance. But after his Thunder
turn in 1996, Pavano was among the best prospects in baseball.
Fellow New Englander Brian Rose pitched as well as Pavano or better
for the Thunder in 1996. Rose was the more ebullient of the two,
but he also projected by far more nervousness. His lack of confidence
in his ability was at times shocking. After holding an opponent
to few hits and fewer runs one game, he asked me if he looked
good out there.
He asked me. The yellow-shirted press-box attendant.
Like Pavano, Rose's career has never taken off, though the culprit
for Rose may be mental as much as it is physical. Last season
his earned-run average with two teams sounds more like a jet than
a statistic: 7.47, and he's already played for four major-league
teams, probably none of whom can figure out why he isn't a better
pitcher.
Michael Coleman's future was never a sure thing. He showed raw
athleticism and surprising power for a man his size-smaller than
his listed height and weight of 5'11", 180. His actual weight
might have approached 200 pounds if you count the enormous chip
he carried on his shoulder.
Coleman gets big-league cups of coffee only in odd-numbered years
since 1997, though last year's unexpected turn in a backup role
for the Yankees was a Luis Gonzalez-bloop hit away from a World
Series ring. Now old enough that he might have matured-though
I'm not saying he actually has-Coleman no longer puts up the sort
of numbers that get you recognized in the minors.
And Sadler has had possibly the roughest ride of all. Described
this year in Baseball Prospectus 2002 as possibly "the worst-hitting
position player in baseball," Sadler's 515 major-league at
bats-the equivalent of one full season-have culminated in a .214
career batting average and .301 career slugging average, which
is lower than the career slugging average of former Mets pitcher
Mike Hampton.
At one point in his career, Sadler was probably considered a better
prospect than any of the group. He played shortstop and despite
his short stature, had the athleticism to play all over the diamond.
But perhaps the high expectations overwhelmed him. Even during
the successful '96 season, Sadler seemed prone to bouts of crankiness.
Of course, he, like Coleman, was 21 years old at the time. Rose
and Pavano were 20. They're all too young to be washed up. But
time is ticking by.
I've moved on from my time with the Thunder, and these players
certainly have. But something I always try to remember when I
read something disparaging about them or watch them struggle to
get a pitch over the plate, is that six years ago, they were a
bunch of kids who seemed to have been given it all.
On
the same team as minor-league lifers like Tyrone Woods and Walt
McKeel, Pavano and Rose and Coleman and Sadler were the golden
ones. Six years later, they are faced with the possibility of
becoming the Tyrone Woods and Walt McKeels of their day.
The
Thunder begin their ninth season this April, and hallelujah, the
Route 29 tunnel is finally complete, which must have General Manager
Rick Brenner and company mighty pleased. When you go out to the
ballpark for a few games this summer, take a look at the players
out there and remember, they're just boys with dreams, and whatever
the future holds for them, never think for a minute that they
have it easy.
###
You can reach Joe Emanski at joe@trentondowntowner.com.
