This was not a day for driving. Ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit at 11 a.m. So of course I was driving the 90 minutes north on I-15 toward Rancho Cucamonga, to catch a baseball game between two teams with players nobody’s ever heard of.
As is my custom, I arrived in the middle of the second inning. This isn’t my plan, mind you, it’s just that regardless of my proximity to a given ballpark, I’ll invariably get there in the middle of the second inning. Doesn’t matter whether it’s 2 hours or 2 minutes from my house. I’ll find a way to arrive late. I paid $2 for parking and a Sunday LA Times which I didn’t really want. It was a package deal. What the heck, they need to make money. This is a league that couldn’t survive in Hawaii or Maryland. Anything I can do to help is okay, even if it means buying a paper I won’t read.
When I arrived at the Epicenter (a great name for a ballpark that houses a team called the Quakes during the summer), there were three softball games going on at the fields outside the stadium. The city of Rancho Cucamonga has set aside this space as a municipal recreation area, so even on days without a baseball game, the place is hopping with folks playing softball or soccer at one of the many surrounding fields.
I dropped $5 for a ticket and headed inside. After a quick stop at the gift shop (where I saw Todd Pratt on TV being mobbed by Mets teammates after homering in the bottom of the 10th to knock Arizona out of the playoffs) and the concession stand for a hot dog and a bottle of water, I attempted to locate my seat. Box 4, Row E, Seat 14. I didn’t look very long, as it very quickly became evident that I could sit pretty much anywhere I wanted that didn’t already have a body in it (except for the “upper deck,” which was entirely devoid of humanity). So I found myself a spot in the shade, started in on my hot dog, and got to watching the Surfers and the San Bernardino Sand Dragons battle it out in the heat.
The box score claimed there were 365 people in attendance that day. They must have been counting the players and the stadium workers, and assuming that everyone who showed up had bought a ticket for someone else who couldn’t make it. Realistically there were about 100 folks there, about half of whom, according to a member of the Rancho Cucamonga staff, were scouts. I counted at least six JUGS guns and saw one guy with a stopwatch.
The game itself was fairly sloppy, as could be expected. It was slightly below what you might expect to see at a California League game during the summer. On three separate occasions, a batter reached first base by laying down a decent (but not great) bunt that the first baseman fielded but couldn’t make a play because the pitcher was very slow getting to the bag (twice no throw was even attempted). Maybe it’s because most of these guys have never played together before, or maybe it’s been a long season and they want to go home. Who knows. Whatever the reason, there were a lot of fundamental mistakes made.
A couple of southpaws started. Jacob Whitney, of the Astros organization, worked for Rancho Cucamonga; Mike Spinelli, a Boston farmhand, got the call for the vistors. Both looked like typical lefties — okay fastballs, lots of breaking stuff. Whitney, in particular, had a nasty slider that often got the better of his catcher, the Astros’ Mike Rose. Spinelli had a pretty good pickoff move.
One thing about this league is that players wear the uniforms of the organizations they play for during the summer (presumably to save the cost of making actual uniforms — though they try to sell it as “An All-Star Game Every Day”), so it’s a bit tricky sometimes to figure out who’s on which team. Plus the numbers don’t always match up to what the roster sheet says, and occasionally a player shows up who isn’t even on the roster sheet. For instance, a guy wearing a Rangers jersey with the number 7 on it pitched the final 2 innings for San Bernardino. According to the roster sheet, that’s infielder Jason Romano (which is how the announcer called it, too). According to the box score it’s a guy identified as “D Meliah,” who doesn’t show up anywhere on the roster sheets. Baseball America lists a “David Meliah” as a second baseman who played for the Rangers’ Savannah ballclub this year. Perhaps we’ll never know who closed out the game for the Sand Dragons that day. Whoever he was, he pitched well.
San Bernardino had some good-looking players on its team. Cubs’ infielder Jason Smith played well at shortstop and hit some line drives, though he had precious little to show for them. Mark Fischer, Red Sox, had a couple hits and made a great throw to the plate from right field to almost nail a guy I thought he had no chance at getting. Quincy Foster, a centerfielder in the Marlins chain, impressed me with his ability to play the game according to his skills. Fast, but not very big, Foster choked up on his bat and focused on slashing the ball past the shortstop. He also layed down a nice bunt for a hit and displayed a good arm for a centerfielder.
The guy who really impressed was Reds left fielder Ben Broussard. A 1999 draftee, Broussard has a quick bat and showed power to all fields. He appears to see the ball well, as he was able to wait until the very last moment before committing himself to a swing — even against lefties. Broussard went 4 for 4, with 2 doubles and a triple. The left-handed hitter drove pitches with authority, off the wall in left field, up the gaps — basically “where they ain’t.” He appeared a bit tentative in the field, but showed surprising speed for a man his size (6’2″, 220 lbs.), stealing a base and moving very well from first to third.
On the other side, Yankee farmhand Marcus Thames, who is absolutely tearing up the league, had another fine game at the plate, going 2 for 4 with 2 doubles and 3 RBI. Like Broussard, Thames showed a quick bat and opposite field power. He also displayed a strong arm in right field, though he appeared a bit lackadaisical in chasing after balls, and at least once kicked one. But the guy can hit. Victor Valencia, another Yankee, also impressed at the plate. A catcher by trade, Valencia served as the DH this game. He showed a good knowledge of the strike zone and a nice, compact stroke.
Not everyone played well, of course. Atlanta prospect A.J. Zapp looked confused at the plate, especially on breaking balls and off-speed pitches. He struck out 3 or 4 times in 5 at bats. He has a nice stroke, so it’s probably just a matter of learning to recognize pitches, or maybe he was just having a bad day. Toronto infielder Mike Young also appeared overmatched at the plate. His swing was way too long for a leadoff hitter. Most of the pitching was pretty nondescript. Whitney looked like he had an idea of what he wanted to do. Tampa Bay’s Nathan Ruhl got the attention of the guys holding the JUGS guns, but had trouble finding the strike zone and was hung with the loss.
The game was enjoyable, if you like watching guys who might make it to the Show one day and don’t mind the complete absence of cute mascots and anything of a promotional nature. Former Dodger shortstop Bill Russell kept things lively by hamming it up with the crowd after a spectator (probably a friend of his) got on him for not making the play on a ground ball hit to him in the third base coaches box.
After the final out, I walked back toward the parking lot alongside several players, still in full uniform (I guess they figure they can shower after the short ride back to San Bernardino — probably another cost-saving measure). Dodger outfielder Bubba Crosby, who didn’t make it into the game, and a friend were talking about plans for later. A young kid asked Crosby for his autograph. Crosby, hauling his own equipment, stopped and obliged. The kid walked away smiling. Crosby, a former 1st round pick out of Rice University who struggled in his pro debut, hopped on the team bus and headed out to the next stop on his dream of playing in the big leagues.
Re : Notes from the Old Calif. League ~ a lot of fun reading these notes nearly a decade later. Thanks for posting.