The Boys of Summer – Our Florida Adventures at Spring Training – Part 4

Our fourth day involved packing up because we would be moving up the coast later that morning.  Our hotel luggage cart looked like we were running away from home.  With cool nights and hot days, it was a challenge to pack light.  To support our four road days, there were also bags of cookies, nuts and peanut butter pretzels as well as a cooler with luncheon meat, cheese and bottled water.  After the last haul to the car, as I waited for the elevator, a tall guy sprinted past me and down the hallway with a tall drink container in his hand.  The elevator arrived.  I peeked around the corner.  The guy was in the final stages of the fill.  “Would you like me to hold the elevator?”  Despite, the short ride, I did find out the telling athletic frame was indeed a player for the Minnesota Twins organization.  Alec Sayre was at the Fort Myers Mighty Mussels, the A affiliate of the Twins and on a rehab assignment from a right thumb fracture.  

Within ten minutes, Rick and I were on the road to Bradenton.  It was a beautiful day for the ride up the Florida Coast.  As we passed the exit for Port Charlotte, spring home of the Tampa Bay Rays, I remembered the years we attended spring training when the Texas Rangers were there.  Those were fun times especially the year I took my mom and she got to meet Nolan Ryan and Craig Reynolds.  When we got to the Bradenton area, we witnessed several intermittent groups of law enforcement vehicles thankfully going the opposite direction.  Things finally calmed down and the count was at fourteen which had passed us with sirens wailing and lights flashing!  Throughout that day, I asked around including a policeman on duty at the ballpark what might have been going on.  No one knew.  Maybe it was a practice drill for spring break the following week.

Our first stop was Pirate City, practice fields for the Pittsburgh Pirates.  Unlike most of the teams we visited, the ballpark for the games was five miles away.  We were welcomed by a couple of staff members and a security guard.  On the card table were handouts about the team.  I explained to the three that I had a friend that was coaching in the minors for the Pirates.  The security guard motioned us towards a walkway.  The complex had four practice fields that were named after Pirates Hall of Famers Roberto Clemente, Pie Traynor, Honus Wagner, and WIllie Stargell.  To my right was a group of players gathered around a picnic table studying a laptop and watching batting practice while another group of players rotated in the batting cage as two coaches looked on.  Neither of the coaches was Gary Green, former Olympian and shortstop for the Texas Rangers.  I paused near the table.  “Do any of you know which field Gary Green is on?”  I must have looked official with my coiled notebook dangling from my neck as I got an immediate answer.  “He’s at LECOM today for the game.”  I glanced at my watch.  The gates were opening in about forty-five minutes.  Since we weren’t sure about where the ballpark was or the parking situation, we headed to the ballpark. 

When we arrived at LECOM Ballpark, a line of fans was already wrapped around the building and we still had to find parking.  We did the block once and settled on fifteen dollars parking behind the left field fence.  “We’ll be fine unless someone hits a homerun,” I thought to myself.  As we stood in line, we people-watched the photographers and scouts going in an early entrance.  One fan walked by the line saying he was most impressed with the set-up at “Steinberger Stadium.”  I thought to myself, “George Steinbrenner must be rolling over in his grave.”  Once the gates opened, the line moved quickly since the stadium was no bags of any kind even clear ones.  I was getting quicker at the magnetometer with my “life” in four pockets and my baseball cap. 

According to an usher, the Pirates players would be coming in from a building outside right field.  When I got there, several fans of all ages were already gathered so I squeezed in by an elderly couple.  It was a good location as their grandson was a pitcher for the Pirates.  The odds were that he would be coming over to see them.  After several minutes, the players started trickling out from a building behind right field.  It was as though someone stepped on an ant hill as fans infiltrated the right field corner.  “Hey Mr. Honeywell!” a little kid next to me with an open marker and a ball shouted.  My guess was right.  A player with long dark locks proceeded to the grandparents.  After a brief visit with them, I interjected, “Is Gary Green coming out?”  “Who?”  I explained he was a coach for AA Altoona.  “Don’t know him” and he walked back to the clubhouse.  It turned out that Brent Honeywell was a free agent who was under the White Sox organization last year.  His status was an invitee to spring training. In other words, he knew no one with the Pirates!

As I patiently waited for more to come out, the field staff started positioning the batting cages in front of my vintage spot!  A savvy fan by me assured me that our little area was still where players could come up.  He was wrong as more big equipment was positioned.  We had to relocate down into a narrow corner.  As players stopped to autograph for the savvy fan, I would ask about Gary Green.  He was still inside.  I was just about to give up because the game was getting ready to start when I spotted two older guys looking like coaches coming out.  When asked about Green they pointed to two guys who had walked out in front of them.  By now Gary was halfway to the dugout.  By the time I weaved through the fans blocking the aisles, he was already in the dugout.  I took the five steps down to one end of the dugout.  Murphy’s law – he was at the other end.  Thank goodness for informalities at spring training.  I called out to one of the guys near my end.  “Could you please tell Gary Green that Carlotta is here?”  Success!  Gone were the long dark curls Green had the last time I saw him.  “It’s been a while,” he said.  I laughed.  “Try early nineties.”  I had less than a minute with him, but it was long enough to get a picture and tell him how I was working for a ball club. 

Our seats were about twelve rows up from the Pirates dugout.  They were playing Toronto and as in the other spring training games, the stars played five to six innings and then were replaced by the minor leaguers.  We got to see Honeywell pitch and he did not have a good outing, giving up two go-ahead runs in the eighth inning.  I felt bad for his grandparents.  The Pirates came back in the eighth inning with three runs and escaped with a 6 – 5 win!  Remember the parking lot?  It was a correct premonition.  Three homerun rockets were launched that afternoon!   After the game, I returned to my post at right field and got to meet TSung Che Chang, who had one of the home runs.  There was another small world moment when I met catcher Abrahan Gutierrez who knew Vassalotti.  When I messaged Michele our picture, he messaged back, “AB!  He’s a great guy.”  I laughed.  He had said same thing about Vassa. 

Our hotel was east of Bradenton in Lakewood Ranch near I75 which we were taking to Tampa the next morning.  The only restaurant near the hotel was Texas Roadhouse.  The parking lot was packed.  We did not have reservations so while Rick was parking, I found myself rotating on circles across from the hostess stand until I got to one saying “On Deck.”  As Rick came through the door, I had just moved to “Now Batting.”  Dinner was pretty good.  I had grilled shrimp with garlic lemon pepper and the best seasoned rice I’ve ever had.  Rick had a rib eye steak with a huge baked potato with the works.  We texted with Vassalotti during dinner pretending he was eating with us like a year ago.  Dessert was to go.  Once again, I negated the “good” main meal with dessert!   I had the homestyle apple pie and Rick went with a cheesecake with strawberry sauce and whipped cream.  “Tomorrow I’ll be better,” I promised myself. Really.
To be continued.