The Good Men Project

Baseball Redux: Moments in the Life of an MLB Dad

Rick Giolito

“The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball.” I often think back to that seminal piece of dialogue from one of my favorite baseball movies of….well my favorite baseball movie ever…“Field of Dreams.”

But there is no baseball right now. Nothing. Like other fans who are craving MLB baseball, I’ve resorted to watching MLB players “play”…virtually that is, in the “2020 MLB The Show: Player’s Tournament.” (Yes. The video game.)  Sure it lacks the sights, sounds and visceral feel of sitting in a real stadium patiently waiting for the home team to pummel the competition, but it’s something.

You see, my son is a Major Leaguer. In fact, he’s playing in this Tourney, doing his part to give the folks at home a diversion while hoping to keep them engaged.

How did we get here? Sure, I could talk about the missteps of The W.H.O., China or our own Federal Government. But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about Baseball. How in the heck did my son end up behind a computer playing simulating baseball games for the tens of thousands who eagerly tune into Twitch to watch their Team Reps duke out, electronically, that is until we can get the constant of real MLB baseball back?

So let’s step into the way-back machine and take a little stroll.

I know it will make me feel better about the state of things. Maybe you too.

♦◊♦

A Decade Ago…..Sometime in 2010

About three months ago, my world blew up.

You see, I’m the dad of a baseball player…two actually. One is eleven and just starting to play club ball, and the other is a sixteen year old, going into his junior year of high school.

The thing about my oldest is that he’s been given a gift….several in fact. He’s smart, funny and humble…..all great attributes that make him a great kid to be around, but this is about baseball and in baseball parlance, he’s “the real deal.” He’s a man among boys: 6’6″ tall, 225 lbs with the ability to throw a baseball 96 mph. In these past three months, the college and professional worlds of baseball have “discovered” my son, and nothing has been the same since. I’m on a roller-coaster to who knows where, and I have no idea when it will stop.

A week ago, my son made a big decision. He decided that he’d play his college ball at UCLA. Their talented Head Coach, John Savage, had just taken the Bruins to the College World Series for the first time in their history where they lost in heartbreaking fashion to the University of South Carolina. It was a wonderfully talented Gamecocks team who had somehow figured out how to stymie the UCLA offense.

In baseball parlance, my sixteen year old son is “the real deal.” He’s a man among boys: 6’6″ tall, 225 lbs with the ability to throw a baseball 96 mph. In these past three months, the college and professional worlds of baseball have “discovered” my son, and nothing has been the same since. I’m on a roller-coaster to who knows where, and I have no idea when it will stop.

Coach Savage is not only one of the best college coaches in the country. He’s also the team’s pitching coach and a tremendously charming and intelligent guy. He also has an eye for talent. Over the last few years, he’s been busy assembling one of the most potent pitching staffs in the country with the 1-2-3 punch of Gerrit Cole, Trevor Bauer and Rob Rasmussen. Rob is off to the majors next year and they’ve recruited a very talented kid out of Glendora by the name of Adam Plutko who has a shot to join the rotation. John knows what he’s doing.

The decision to verbally commit to UCLA was made following unofficial trips to the University of Arizona, University of San Diego, University of Southern California, UC Santa Barbara, Cal Berkeley and Stanford. All of these schools have terrific coaches, facilities and bright futures but Lucas knew that our hometown UCLA was the right school for him. It actually started over a year ago when – as a scrawny 14 year old – he contacted UCLA asking to visit. We took the tour, we talked to Coach Savage, and Lucas never forgot it.

I think that early visit inspired him to work even harder…he really wanted to be a Bruin.

But me, I had other plans. You see I’m a Gator, as in the University of Florida Gators. I was born in New York City, but I went far away to a really big school, and I loved it. Having guided my son to such a lofty height, I figured I’d finish the job by giving my son that same kind of experience, by depositing him at some major university far away from home. Florida was on my list but I figured that would be too obvious. And it’s really hot and muggy down there, which is tough on pitchers. Vanderbilt came to mind, Dartmouth, as did Stanford, Cal, Virginia, Rice, North Carolina, Duke, Texas. You see, I was whittling it down to great schools with tremendous baseball programs.

My kid played along for a while until he decided to give me his list: UCLA, UCLA & UCLA.

What? How could this be? I’d spent years playing catch, paid for umpteen lessons, had braved 110 degree heat in countless tournament games in exotic places like Riverside and Pacoima. I was not about to be denied the pleasure of shipping my kid off to some wondrous place I’d seen pictures of on the web. UCLA? Hell no….it’s closer to the house than his high school!

But I had been outwitted. Not only had Coach Savage spun his recruitment mojo on an unsuspecting 14 year old, but I’d been doing the UCLA cha-cha for years: pitching lessons with former Bruin and Dodger great Tim Leary; UCLA Bruin Baseball camp; hitting and throwing with recent Bruin home-run hitter Cody Decker; mentorship from former UCLA Coaching Assistant Alex Kocol; countless visits to Jackie Robinson Stadium to show Lucas what college ball was all about; having him track Gerrit Cole’s pitches, demeanor and approach. Heck, I’d been unwittingly setting this kid up to be a Bruin the whole time! The last trip over there was a slam dunk for Coach Savage.

The capper was his tour of the tiny adjoining shoe-boxes they fondly refer to as “student suites” where my son exclaimed, “You’re kidding, I get to live here?” Point, set, match to UCLA.

It was right around then that I came to the unfortunate realization that it wasn’t me that was going to college. In fact, this wasn’t about me at all.

The follow-up talk with Coach Savage in his office was interesting and informative, but we were done. Coach Savage even had my wife on the edge of her seat. He’s as good a recruiter as he is a coach.

At the end of these things, a coach usually presents a scholarship offer and parents graciously listen and say “We’ll consider it and get back to you.” This is followed by a grave discussion of a time-limit on the offer, if any. Then you leave, get in your car and scream with joy if it was great, or become completely depressed if it wasn’t quite what you expected. Frankly, Coach Savage could have offered dinner for two at Applebee’s and my son would have begun counseling me about “how great their fries are.”

In the end, we didn’t even wait to get home. I looked at Luc and said, “Well, do you want to tell Coach what you think”? Luc didn’t quite know how to react. He knew the drill: Don’t react. Don’t say anything. But the two-mile-wide smile on his face as he bounced in his chair kind of gave it away. I said, “It’s OK to tell the Coach if you want to come to UCLA.” And so he did. There you have it, a big, fat, happy ending. I have the pic of us, standing in the office, all smiles, to prove it.

There are moments in time along the journey that stick with you. For me, I’ll always remember that glorious day in 2010 when John Savage said those magic words: “We’d like to offer you a scholarship to UCLA.”

Frankly, I’m relieved that the decision is over. Sure, it’s fun to be the dad of a big-time athletic prospect. In fact, I’ve seen some dads milk it for all it’s worth. I thought I’d really enjoy all the attention, but after a few weeks of it, I’d had enough.

Following the realization that it wasn’t about me (sigh), I genuinely wanted things to settle down so my kid could just get back to being a normal high school student, worrying about things like Spanish quizzes and what this girl thinks of that guy, etc. The alternative – mounting pressure to make a decision from the myriad colleges and universities chasing him down – was just not quite as wonderful a thought as I had originally hoped.

Yes it’s a quality problem to have, and I’m not complaining, but it takes time, a lot of it, and in the end I’m glad to put it in the rearview mirror. I’m happy for him and I’m happy that I’ll get to see him pitch when the time comes, even if it isn’t some Hogwarts-like campus set in a verdant-green pasture replete with professors in flowing gowns and hats. Hell no. It’s UCLA, and I’ll be proud to wear the powder-blue…even if it isn’t my best color.

♦◊♦

Recent History…Sometime Today

Well, he never did get to UCLA.

He ended up being quite the high school pitcher, and he was drafted by the Washington Nationals in the first round of the 2012 MLB Draft.

At the end of 2016, the Nationals traded him to the White Sox, and he made the majors in 2017. In his first full season in the Major Leagues in 2018, he was the league’s worst starting pitcher.

But then 2019 happened, and that high school kid who wowed everyone as a beanpole of a seventeen year old emerged as one of the best pitchers in the Majors. An All-Star. It really did bring tears to my eyes.

There are moments in time along the journey that stick with you. For me, I’ll always remember that glorious day in 2010 when John Savage said those magic words: “We’d like to offer you a scholarship to UCLA.”

I never did get to wear powder blue, but as life turns out, black and white suits me better anyway.

More slimming.

 

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Photo Credit: Eric Dearborn (With author’s permission)

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