jbooma
March-4th-2005, 10:19 AM
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A2510-2005Mar2.html
By Thomas Boswell
Thursday, March 3, 2005; Page D01
VIERA, Fla. -- The breeze at game time, as the Washington Nationals took the field for the first time, was 5 mph, just enough to flutter the nerves that weren't already dancing. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then what does 34 years produce? What is the tingle along the spine when a sport comes back to life after a third of a century in its grave? Resurrection is too strong a word, but resuscitation hardly does justice to the power of the emotion.
At Space Coast Stadium here Wednesday, variations on such subjects were the core of almost every discussion. Major league players, coaches, managers and administrators were all surprised, almost overwhelmed, by the strength of their own feelings.
"Our sense of what this means to the people of Washington is superficial, probably even mine, and I played against the old Senators," said Frank Robinson, a Hall of Famer. "I'm just glad Washington has a team now. And I'm glad we are that team."
Perhaps Don Buford, the Nationals' first base coach and a former Oriole who played in the World Series, truly digested this bizarre scene as a postseason buzz churned stomachs before a spring-training opener of utter athletic insignificance.
"I understand. The people in Washington finally have a ball club just when they thought it might be forever," said Buford. "That's why, even though this is only an exhibition game, it feels similar to playing in a World Series."
If that enthusiasm goes a step too far, it's not by much. Many American cities agonize over going 34 years between world championships. Washington has had to wait that long between games.
As this opener approached, the realization of its emotional resonance grew on everyone involved with the new Washington team. Nats General Manager Jim Bowden has been so deluged with fan mail, e-mails and every other form of communication that "I feel like I'm in Washington every day . . . I couldn't sleep last night. I got goose bumps when I got to the park. This may sound strange, but I feel honored to be part of this."
The day took me by surprise, too. This game on a crisp, sun-drenched afternoon in a tiny grapefruit league park was at least as electric as my first trip to Griffith Stadium in 1956 when, walking up a ramp, I saw that first slash of infield grass from which I have, apparently, never completely recuperated. Still, in baseball, only controlled emotion is useful. "You must be pretty excited today," someone said to me. "Not particularly," I answered. "But then I've never taken two Valium before."
Perhaps the proudest person in this park was Omar Minaya, the general manager of the New York Mets, who built most of the current Nationals team when he was GM in Montreal. Minaya and Robinson, more than any two men, are the reason that Washington is getting a respectable big league team. With even mediocre management, the Expos could have disintegrated into one of the worst and most dispirited teams in baseball history. Instead, the Nats' strongest suit is their mental toughness. What didn't destroy them actually did make them stronger.
"We kept it together [in Montreal]. We defended the integrity of the sport," Minaya said of his battle to field a competitive team under almost every conceivable budget and travel handicap. "This is a great baseball day. I'm a Met now, but . . . " said Minaya, pausing. He almost seemed to hope that, just for one exhibition game, his Mets might lose, as they eventually did, 5-3.
"You guys in Washington are getting a team that is a bunch of warriors. They are young and hungry. Anybody who doesn't think the Nationals are going to be in the mix [in the NL East], then they don't know what kind of heart this club has. I do know," said Minaya, who is biased, but still one of baseball's best minds. "The city of Washington should be very proud of these guys. They know how to play the game the right way. You are going to have a fun time."
And with that, for one day, the Nationals did everything, and more, that could be asked of them in their first chance to show themselves to their Washington audience on ESPN.
Tony Armas Jr., the right-hander with stellar stuff but a history of injuries, struck out both Kaz Matsui and Carlos Beltran on wicked hard sliders to end the top of the first inning. His two shutout innings mean nothing. But they delighted the Nats who think the key to a dream season -- .500, in their modest case -- is a pitching rotation with three competent starters: Livan Hernandez, Esteban Loaiza and Armas.
"This turned out to be more than an exhibition," said Bowden. "A lot of good things came out of this. The people back in Washington got to see their team, see our home uniforms. Tony Armas was throwing free and easy. Jose Guillen hit a homer. They got to see [Luis] Ayala and [Chad] Cordero close the last two innings. It did have an Opening Day feel."
Cordero, cap brim pulled down a millimeter above his eyes, fanned the side in the ninth. He's an eye-opener, even if you can't see his eyes. "I was talking to fans down by the bullpen who flew all the way down from Washington just for this game," said Cordero, 22. "They were awesome. They love their baseball."
The Nationals expect such quick saves from Cordero. It was Guillen's truly stunning two-run bomb over the 16-foot-high wall in deepest right-center field that had his teammates buzzing. You don't see too many 430-foot opposite-field home runs through a crosswind into a parking lot.
"I'm glad I didn't bring my car today," said pitcher Zach Day. "I hope my wife didn't park out there."
Catcher Brian Schneider was just as delighted by the new cleanup hitter.
"Did you see Jose pump his fist when he went around first? He's wanted here. His slate is wiped clean. We'll give anybody the benefit of the doubt. He's having a good time," said Schneider of Guillen who, despite obvious talent, has played for seven teams in seven seasons. At every stop, he has allowed every emotion to come directly out of his mouth.
Last year in Anaheim, Guillen was suspended for the remainder of the season because, according to sources, he simply refused to stop screaming at Angels Manager Mike Scioscia.
"Jose just didn't give Scioscia any choice," said one Nats executive.
If Guillen, who has already had a heart-to-heart with Robinson, can hold his tongue, the rest may fall in place. Still, even after his first game, Guillen spoke his whole mind.
"I'm a strong man," Guillen said. "Two-hundred thirty pounds. What do you expect from a 230-pound man? I'm 5-11. A lot of people look at me as a short guy, not much power. But it's a blessing from God to have that type of power. Frank is the boss. I'm going to work hard. . . . I promise you guys good things are going to happen. I promise."
Promises, promises -- this day was full to the brim with them. Some will be kept, others smashed. But for many, the image at 1:02 p.m. Wednesday afternoon, when a team with a script "W" on its cap finally ran on the field once more, will never be forgotten.
By Thomas Boswell
Thursday, March 3, 2005; Page D01
VIERA, Fla. -- The breeze at game time, as the Washington Nationals took the field for the first time, was 5 mph, just enough to flutter the nerves that weren't already dancing. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then what does 34 years produce? What is the tingle along the spine when a sport comes back to life after a third of a century in its grave? Resurrection is too strong a word, but resuscitation hardly does justice to the power of the emotion.
At Space Coast Stadium here Wednesday, variations on such subjects were the core of almost every discussion. Major league players, coaches, managers and administrators were all surprised, almost overwhelmed, by the strength of their own feelings.
"Our sense of what this means to the people of Washington is superficial, probably even mine, and I played against the old Senators," said Frank Robinson, a Hall of Famer. "I'm just glad Washington has a team now. And I'm glad we are that team."
Perhaps Don Buford, the Nationals' first base coach and a former Oriole who played in the World Series, truly digested this bizarre scene as a postseason buzz churned stomachs before a spring-training opener of utter athletic insignificance.
"I understand. The people in Washington finally have a ball club just when they thought it might be forever," said Buford. "That's why, even though this is only an exhibition game, it feels similar to playing in a World Series."
If that enthusiasm goes a step too far, it's not by much. Many American cities agonize over going 34 years between world championships. Washington has had to wait that long between games.
As this opener approached, the realization of its emotional resonance grew on everyone involved with the new Washington team. Nats General Manager Jim Bowden has been so deluged with fan mail, e-mails and every other form of communication that "I feel like I'm in Washington every day . . . I couldn't sleep last night. I got goose bumps when I got to the park. This may sound strange, but I feel honored to be part of this."
The day took me by surprise, too. This game on a crisp, sun-drenched afternoon in a tiny grapefruit league park was at least as electric as my first trip to Griffith Stadium in 1956 when, walking up a ramp, I saw that first slash of infield grass from which I have, apparently, never completely recuperated. Still, in baseball, only controlled emotion is useful. "You must be pretty excited today," someone said to me. "Not particularly," I answered. "But then I've never taken two Valium before."
Perhaps the proudest person in this park was Omar Minaya, the general manager of the New York Mets, who built most of the current Nationals team when he was GM in Montreal. Minaya and Robinson, more than any two men, are the reason that Washington is getting a respectable big league team. With even mediocre management, the Expos could have disintegrated into one of the worst and most dispirited teams in baseball history. Instead, the Nats' strongest suit is their mental toughness. What didn't destroy them actually did make them stronger.
"We kept it together [in Montreal]. We defended the integrity of the sport," Minaya said of his battle to field a competitive team under almost every conceivable budget and travel handicap. "This is a great baseball day. I'm a Met now, but . . . " said Minaya, pausing. He almost seemed to hope that, just for one exhibition game, his Mets might lose, as they eventually did, 5-3.
"You guys in Washington are getting a team that is a bunch of warriors. They are young and hungry. Anybody who doesn't think the Nationals are going to be in the mix [in the NL East], then they don't know what kind of heart this club has. I do know," said Minaya, who is biased, but still one of baseball's best minds. "The city of Washington should be very proud of these guys. They know how to play the game the right way. You are going to have a fun time."
And with that, for one day, the Nationals did everything, and more, that could be asked of them in their first chance to show themselves to their Washington audience on ESPN.
Tony Armas Jr., the right-hander with stellar stuff but a history of injuries, struck out both Kaz Matsui and Carlos Beltran on wicked hard sliders to end the top of the first inning. His two shutout innings mean nothing. But they delighted the Nats who think the key to a dream season -- .500, in their modest case -- is a pitching rotation with three competent starters: Livan Hernandez, Esteban Loaiza and Armas.
"This turned out to be more than an exhibition," said Bowden. "A lot of good things came out of this. The people back in Washington got to see their team, see our home uniforms. Tony Armas was throwing free and easy. Jose Guillen hit a homer. They got to see [Luis] Ayala and [Chad] Cordero close the last two innings. It did have an Opening Day feel."
Cordero, cap brim pulled down a millimeter above his eyes, fanned the side in the ninth. He's an eye-opener, even if you can't see his eyes. "I was talking to fans down by the bullpen who flew all the way down from Washington just for this game," said Cordero, 22. "They were awesome. They love their baseball."
The Nationals expect such quick saves from Cordero. It was Guillen's truly stunning two-run bomb over the 16-foot-high wall in deepest right-center field that had his teammates buzzing. You don't see too many 430-foot opposite-field home runs through a crosswind into a parking lot.
"I'm glad I didn't bring my car today," said pitcher Zach Day. "I hope my wife didn't park out there."
Catcher Brian Schneider was just as delighted by the new cleanup hitter.
"Did you see Jose pump his fist when he went around first? He's wanted here. His slate is wiped clean. We'll give anybody the benefit of the doubt. He's having a good time," said Schneider of Guillen who, despite obvious talent, has played for seven teams in seven seasons. At every stop, he has allowed every emotion to come directly out of his mouth.
Last year in Anaheim, Guillen was suspended for the remainder of the season because, according to sources, he simply refused to stop screaming at Angels Manager Mike Scioscia.
"Jose just didn't give Scioscia any choice," said one Nats executive.
If Guillen, who has already had a heart-to-heart with Robinson, can hold his tongue, the rest may fall in place. Still, even after his first game, Guillen spoke his whole mind.
"I'm a strong man," Guillen said. "Two-hundred thirty pounds. What do you expect from a 230-pound man? I'm 5-11. A lot of people look at me as a short guy, not much power. But it's a blessing from God to have that type of power. Frank is the boss. I'm going to work hard. . . . I promise you guys good things are going to happen. I promise."
Promises, promises -- this day was full to the brim with them. Some will be kept, others smashed. But for many, the image at 1:02 p.m. Wednesday afternoon, when a team with a script "W" on its cap finally ran on the field once more, will never be forgotten.