Chapter 6

My agent called in early January and asked me if I would be upset if the team traded me. I told him, "The Manager told me it might happen. He said I could be good trade material, but I'd rather stay and help the team win, personally."

"That's a good attitude, Matt. I'll use that if I get a chance to increase what you'll be making, but you're still the property of the minor league club. The teams they're talking to are the Diamond Backs, Giants, Cards, and believe it or not, the Tampa Bay Rays. Are there any that you would prefer to go to?"

"Sure; the Rays would be good if I'm not pitching. I love their Manager and they do have some good players there. I know they have more utility players than most teams, but I don't think they have a good regular shortstop. They have a good infield otherwise, with second baseman in Zoebrist, Loney on first, and Longoria on third. That would be good for me since it wouldn't be far from home."

"You forgot about Escobar at short. He did a good job last season." After a pause, the agent said, "You're funny, Matt. Most guys are out buying houses and cars, and you stay home and work out. I do need you to fly down to Miami for a physical. They want to make sure you're in good shape so they can get a lot for you. Ah, take your gloves, shoes, and some workout clothes, because they will probably want to see what you have forgotten over the winter. I've tried to tell them you've been working out with the kids at the university, but they want to see it for themselves. Did you ever gain the weight back from last year? You were looking pretty thin."

"I'm up to a solid one eighty-five and I might make one ninety one of these days if I can continue packing it on."

"You're not taking any supplements, are you, Matt?"

"No way, just working out at the gym almost everyday, running, and practicing at the U. I eat four really big high protein diet meals a day, and that is putting muscle on me. I'm in good shape and plan on staying that way."

"You know they'll test you down there; probably give you a full battery of tests to confirm you're supplement and drug free."

"No sweat, I'll pass without a problem. I don't do drugs of any kind."

"Well, go down next week. Call them Monday morning and they'll book a flight for you. Keep all of your receipts because they'll reimburse you and pay you the per diem rate. You'll probably be there for three or four days. I may see you down there, but good luck in any case."

Wow, this is going to be what I don't like about the game. I don't like not knowing where I'll be. A new team might put me back in the minors or focus on my pitching. Oh well, I suppose the girls can join me wherever I am and I can play ball with whoever gets me.

The girls and I talked about going down to Miami together. It would be nice if they could go, but it was during school and they were finishing. The only thing they could do after this would be to work on PhDs. They could do that, but I'd like for them to be with me for a little while.

I called the front office Monday morning and was told to go to the airport where the owner's plane would pick me up about noon. They also told me to bring shoes, gloves, and work out clothes. They also didn't want me to eat anything until I had a blood test. I could drink water, but nothing else. I told them that I'd already eaten a big breakfast.

I called the three women in my life, packed up, and left for the airport with my big bottle of water. It was a good thing I ate a big breakfast so that I wouldn't be crawling the walls.

Sure enough, the neat little jet landed about eleven fifteen. I had checked in with operations and they had told the incoming pilot that I was waiting. When the plane pulled up to operations, the pilot got out of the airplane and met me as I walked out. He said, "Get on and take a seat. I need to use the john. I'll be right back, and don't touch anything in the cockpit. I left the other engine running."

I don't think I'd keep an engine running on an aircraft and leave it, but what do I know.

The guy came on board a couple of minutes later, shut the door, and got into the cockpit. We were moving toward the runway in seconds. It took longer to get from the airfield we went into nearest the ballpark to the park, than it did to fly down. The Marlins ballpark was way out away from everything; however there now were hotels and businesses around since they built the park.

The team trainer saw me as soon as I walked into the office with my small suitcase, and came over to me with his hand out to shake. "Hey, Matt, how are you doing? You look really good with some extra weight. Come down to the exam room so we can get some pee and blood for your tests, and then we'll give you a good exam. We'll get X-rays of your wrist, and we'll do an MRI on where you were hit by that pitch. Leave your bag here, we'll be back up this way."

I think that was more than the trainer had ever said to me. I followed the trainer to the room that was nicknamed the infirmary. It's the team physician's very modern clinic and was ready to treat almost any injury or illness.

The first thing I did was pee in a cup with the trainer watching. He then drew four vials of blood and labeled them. Each vial's cap was a different color, so it must be for different tests.

The doctor came in and did a thorough body check and examined my side and wrist. He took a long time looking into my eyes and then used scissors to clip some hair over my ear. I needed a haircut so my buzz cut was longer than usual. The man asked a couple of dozen questions and I gave him my winter history and what I had been doing. He even had me take off my shoes and socks so he could look at my feet.

I thought the man would faint when I took my pull over shirt off,. "What have you been doing? You haven't been taking any supplements, have you?"

"No, but I've been on a very high protein diet and have been working out at least five days a week and running daily. I work out with the university baseball team and eat a lot. That's what I've been doing since last September."

The man frowned, scratched his head, and then softly said, "We'll see. I sure hope that's the case."

Next was an X-ray of my wrist, then an MRI that I had to strip down to my shorts for.

The Manager walked in, carrying my bag, as I was getting up from the MRI table. We shook hands, and he commented, "You sure look buff for this time of year. You look ready for the season."

"I've been training and getting ready since last September. I sure hope they don't trade me, but I'd rather go to the Rays, as long as it isn't as a pitcher, if they do."

The man handed me my bag and said, "Put your workout clothes on and we'll go out to the field and see how you handle a ball since you haven't played since last year."

I could tell someone had gone through the bag when I opened it, as it had a different shirt on top and my socks had moved from one side of the case to the other. They also left my shaving kit open, so I made a production of taking it out, looking in it, and zipping it up. The Manager sort of hid his face when I did that, so I figured he was checking my luggage for drugs. I was good with that, as they did have a lot of money invested in me.

The infield work I did was nothing. The Manager and the pitching coach hit balls to me and I threw them to the bench coach who was covering first. I still could move around fielding and they tried me over at third, at short, and at second base. They sent me out to centerfield to catch some fly balls after about fifty ground balls. That was almost boring. I was surprised to see the bullpen Manager come out with catcher's gear on when they had me come back in. The Manager gave me big bucket of balls and told me show them how my arm was.

I wanted to dog this but didn't. I kept telling the bullpen Manager what I was going to throw and threw the same pitch for at least ten balls. I hollered that I wasn't done yet when the bucket was empty, and came in to pick up the balls he had been putting into a bucket there. We swapped buckets and I went back and went through the rest of my pitches. The Manager asked, "Do you have any more balls?" when I was done.

"About a dozen, Boss, I replied."

"Throw nothing but fastballs and let's see what kind of speed you got." He pointed at the bench coach with a radar gun. I knew what the speeds were going to be as I was getting the heater up to a consistent 92 with a few hitting all the way to 96 for the four-seamer.

When I was done, the Manager asked, "Can you still hit? I'm going to have the pitching coach throw you some batting practice balls first then he'll give you some various pitches to see how your eye is."

I bunted the first five batting practice pitches and alternated them the way Coach Earl used to have us do. I hit a couple over third and a couple over first next. I could tell the ball speed was picking up, so I began blasting every pitch and was able to do what I wasn't able to regularly do before I put the muscle on. I was putting them into the stands. I switched sides and made hits over first and third again, and then blasted balls into the seats from the left side.

I switched back when he began throwing sliders, curves, and changes. He was really a good pitcher, but he no longer had the arm speed. The neat part was that his slider always crossed the plate as did his curve and change. I swung through a couple of changes but was able to adjust and began hitting those to. I knew the ball would be a strike, so I just had to hit it and I did.

The Manager hollered, "That's enough. You've proven you can still field, pitch, and hit. You're in better shape now than when you left, and that was at the end of the season. You better not be taking anything, because we'll find it if you are. I really don't want to see you go because you are a real ballplayer."

"Then keep me. I don't want to go either. If you give me choices, staying is first, going to Tampa is second, and I suppose the Cards would be third. I'm not crazy about big cities, even Miami, but it's a necessary evil to play ball. What do you think, Coach, where am I going to go?"

The Manager looked at me funny and said, "It's Manager, Kid, Manager. I have coaches to do the dirty work, making me the Manager."

"Yeah, but you still coach the guys to be better ballplayers. You can't deny that. You're 'Coach' to me, and I say that with a lot of respect."

"Thanks, Kid, but to answer your question, I have no idea of who is nibbling at the bait. The VP has some scouts who are coming to look at you in the next couple of days. We have film of you at Triple A and up here last season. The scouts will want to see most of what we did today, but they don't expect to see someone to be season ready like you are. They will also bring their own doctors and might even do more blood work. Just eat well and don't drink a lot of anything except water and maybe some wine. Let's go get a shower and get you to your hotel. They probably have your old room for you."

When I came out of the shower and dressed, the Manager showed me a pile of workout clothes and a couple of pair of spikes. "Take these and wear them tomorrow. Use any locker, but I'd take my gloves with me tonight."

"What time in the morning, and do I scrounge a ride, take a cab, or is someone coming to get me?"

The bench coach said, "I'll come for you in the morning. I'll come eat breakfast with you about seven. Workouts won't start until nine, but the scouting team doctors may check you out between eight and nine."

"Come on, I'll drop you off at the hotel. You'll be doing the same thing Wednesday. I don't think they'll do anything Thursday, but we'll see. You're going to be paid major league game pay for the days you're here, including today, so you do get something out of this."

I was really starved by the time I got to the hotel. I put my clothes in the room and went down to the restaurant. It was six o'clock and I was really hungry. I had them bring two of their porterhouse steaks, but only had a salad before and green veggies with the meat. I had a glass of milk and a glass of red wine, so I figured I had stayed on my high protein diet. I confirmed what time they closed and what time the restaurant began serving breakfast before I left. The restaurant had all night room service, and breakfast began at five thirty.

I put my running shorts, a T-shirt, and my running shoes on up in my room. I probably should give myself some time between the big meal and running, so I went to the hotel gym. There I did my workout stretches and my routine as close as I could with the machines they had.

I was ready to run by the time I had done my gym work. I stretched out for running and took off. I like to run for an hour every day, and did the hour by running to the ballpark and back. I hung my clothes up to let them dry, then showered, and was ready for bed.

I called the girls who were at my house with Mom. They told me there was no sense in them changing their routine until I went off for spring training. I didn't want to tell them, but that day was rapidly nearing.

The next day, Tuesday, I was up early and went to the gym to run on their treadmill for fifteen minutes and to stretch out real good. I showered again, and was dressed and down in the restaurant by seven. The bench coach came in right after I was seated. We talked about baseball during breakfast and I think he was surprised when I had a nice piece of sirloin and four eggs for breakfast. I had a cup of coffee and a glass of milk. The coach asked me, "You don't eat potatoes or bread?"

"I eat bread, but they only have white bread, or at least did last year, and I eat whole grain bread. I don't eat many potatoes because I'm on a high protein diet to get the muscles to bulk up. I eat a lot, but I try to eat the right stuff."

"You're doing something right the way you look and the way you played yesterday. I'll tell you a secret. The Manager said you would show up in good shape, but I don't think even he thought you would be in as good a shape as you are. The pitching coach said you would probably dog it pitching for us, but you didn't. I didn't know what the hell you were going to do, because you surprised the hell out of me last season. The Manager and I don't want you to leave, but you may have too much trade value to keep."

I told him, "I hate this part of baseball, but I understand. I sure hope the Rays come down to look at me as a utility man. I want to stay in Florida."

The bench coach said, "The Rays have a pretty set infield. Escobar, the shortstop is good, but may not be as good as you are. Longoria is at third and no one is going to get rid of him. Zoebrist is playing second, and you know how good he is. He'll be a free agent next year, so they may look at you for the future. You know, you could end up in Durham playing Triple A, or even one of the lower level clubs, if you get traded to the Rays. They are a smart team and would probably like the way you worked your contract, even though minor league guys get a set salary, and you get a set salary in your early rookie years. You are one of the early pick guys and get to live off your signing bonus for a while.

A chief scout, the Vice President of player personnel, and a team doctor were there from both the Cardinals and the Giants. The first thing we did was go to the infirmary. The two doctors agreed to use only one group of specimens and do joint analysis. The one doctor was telling me about some new tests that had been developed to track down some of the new designer drugs athletes used. The two men had brought along almost complete mini-labs so they could thoroughly test me. They looked at the X-rays and MRI from yesterday and sent me out to the other men.

There were other ballplayers with me this time. A couple of players from the various farm organizations were dressing for workouts, so this could be a mass workout. I dressed and tied my new shoes up, ready for some baseball.

Almost all of the guys who were going to be looked at were utility guys and pitchers. I was a little disappointed that I didn't know the Marlins had a winter league in High A ball that played II A teams as well. I could have been working out with other ballplayers. I later found out that they didn't tell me because they felt I might need a longer rehab for my wrist. Duh, it only took a month for it to be better.

We did a bunch of infield work that was almost embarrassing, as a few of the players were not really in good shape for spring training. Some were overweight and not in shape, huffing and puffing from the exertion. Happily, a guy who is supposed to a good hitting first baseman and right fielder was in good shape, and we stood out as being ready to play ball.

The pitchers were all stretching and warming up after their physicals. A couple of pitchers had obviously been working out as they could make the ball snap in the catcher's mitt. The Manager waved me over and told me, "I know you don't want to be a pitcher, but you need to show off for these guys. They will watch you go through your repertoire of pitches and then they'll have you pitch to these guys. The way your competition looks, I doubt many of them have even been in batting cages recently. The farm guys should be good but they are still learning and we think they have potential. This is a look for us too. Do a good job, Matt; show these people what a ballplayer is and how he should be prepared during the off-season."

We watched a couple of pitchers do their thing, and then batters began standing in. The batters were better than the pitchers as they were hitting most of what was thrown. I was the last pitcher to work out. The pitcher whom I thought was really good had just shown what he could do, and was sitting with a guy I thought might be his agent.

I warmed up with about ten throws, and then began with my various pitches. My curve didn't want to work very well, but it did a nice hump and came across the plate for a strike. My slider was perfect as it was sliding across the plate just above the knee level every time.

I was signaled for each pitch when a batter got up. The guys couldn't catch up with the fastball, no matter if it was a two or four seamer, or my new fork or split finger ball. The Manager hollered for me to throw him some batting practice pitches so I threw some belt high down the middle pitches that he easily hit but four of them were come backers to me.

The next batter was the good first baseman. Remembering the older first baseman from last year that sold me his wife's car, it was reasonable this man was being looked at hard. I was instructed to throw some batting practice pitches, and was told to throw as signed by the catcher. The first fastball was fouled straight up and back. The four seam fastball had a wicked wiggle that stymied the batter. Next was the curve that did the job and didn't hang, but the batter was way ahead. I threw my slider that I had worked on to go either direction, depending on my release. The man couldn't find it, but they were strikes. I knew the guy would hit it when the catcher called for a changeup, so I wanted to make sure it was low on the black of the plate if possible. The guy did hit it, but it was on the ground and right to the second baseman.