There is a scene in “Fear Strikes Out” where Anthony Perkins, playing the role of Jimmy Piersall, climbs the screen at Fenway Park at the height of his nervous breakdown — due in part to the pressure handed down from his demanding father. Thirty-something years later, we watched the father of one of the game’s best prospects sending his younger son down to the dugout to hand the prospect a note critiquing his last at-bat.
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This summer a father walked into one of the Boston area’s finest sports medicine and rehabilitation clinic to have his son begin the post-Tommy John surgery rehab. The son was 12. The father had read that pitchers throw harder post-TJ surgery; he didn’t read the concerns of Dr. James Andrews and Dr. Glenn Fleisig that once a player has the operation, he is likely to need another within seven years, or about the time a 12-year-old would be a freshman in college.
This is the Showcase Era, when teenagers are trained to try to throw triple-digit fastballs by the time they are entering their senior years of high school. Fathers hire pitching and hitting gurus; one father near Boston hired a minor-league hitting coach in a National League team’s organization and paid him to move to Boston and work with his son every day, dreaming of making his kid the next Bryce Harper. Some spend tens of thousands of dollars to play on the showcase circuit, with hopes that professional and college scouts will hear them shouting “look at my boy.”
About 11 years ago, a father in Millville, N.J. named Jeff Trout, who twice led the country in hitting for the University of Delaware and actually hit .303 in his four years in the Twins system, asked a Yankee scout named Matt Hyde, “do you think my boy is any good?”
Yeah. Jeff Trout’s son, Mike, is the best player in baseball.
One of the interesting underlying storylines of a fascinating 2018 season has been the rise of second-generation players. Understand, this isn’t new; Pat Gillick always looked for sons of ex-players. His 1992-93 world champion Blue Jays had Roberto Alomar (Sandy), Ed Sprague (Ed, Sr.), Dick Schofield (Ducky) and Todd Stottlemyre (Mel). In Baltimore, he drafted Jayson Werth, whose father Gillick knew from his days in the Yankee organization.
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Now, Vladimir Guerrero Jr. is in Triple-A Buffalo, baseball’s number one prospect, who got to watch his father be inducted in the Hall of Fame while moving up from the Blue Jays’ Double-AA New Hampshire club. Vladdy Jr. played in New Hampshire with Bo Bichette, son of Dante. And Cavan Biggio, son of Craig, HOF. Further down in the Toronto organization are outfielder Griffin Conine, their second-round pick in June out of Duke, and first baseman Kacy Clemens.
On the summer circuit that often previews the next June’s draft, you can find shortstop Bobby Witt Jr. from Colleyville, Texas, mentioned in some quarters as the potential first pick in 2019. As well as right-handed pitcher Jack Leiter from the Delbarton School in Morristown, N.J., who — if he chooses to sign rather than attend Vanderbilt — right now could be a high first-round selection.
Now, think this out. Jeff Trout was a fifth-round pick of the Twins in 1983. Al Leiter was a second-round pick of the Yankees — soon after Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine — in 1984. Vladimir Guerrero signed and began his professional career with the Montreal Expos in 1996. Bobby Witt was the third pick in the entire 1985 draft by the Rangers, two slots after B.J. Surhoff, whose nephew, Colin Moran, is the Pirates’ third baseman.
Gillick’s affinity for the sons was based in part on genetics; on the fact that growing up around a big-league clubhouse made them unawed by dressing in one; and on the idea that watching their fathers deal with the roller coaster trials and tribulations of an extraordinarily difficult game prepared them for the 12-hour bus rides to Boise or the black flies in Portland, Maine.
In turn, from the Trouts to the Guerreros to the Biggios, the Witts to the Leiters, there is a lesson for those parents scouts refer to as “lunatic dads.” These fathers are fathers first, baseball fathers only incidentally. Watching Vladdy II, the talent is astounding, especially if he can stay at third base. The power is there —18 homers between New Hampshire and Buffalo through Sunday — but when he’s 23, it should further explode. He hit .402 with a .671 slugging percentage and 1.120 OPS in the Eastern League, 1.013 with four homers in his first 17 games in Buffalo.
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“What makes him even scarier in the future is that unlike his father, he has exceptional plate discipline,” says one National League scout. “He takes pitchers like a guy who has played in the majors for years. He doesn’t chase.” His on-base percentage in the two leagues has been .449 and .437. He has his father’s bat-to-ball skills, 21 walks and 27 strikeouts in Manchester, 11 walks and seven strikeouts in those first 17 games in Buffalo.
Vladdy and I talked about him when he was in Cooperstown. “I never pushed him to be a baseball player,” said the father. “I didn’t really know if he’d play. He grew up differently than I did. I just wanted him to do what his heart told him to do.”
Father grew up poor, very poor. When the father won his MVP in 2004, his son was five. When son was nine and at the age when his extracurricular interests were starting to form, father was making $15 million. “When he started to show an interest in baseball, I played catch with him. I threw batting practice to him. But I didn’t know where it would lead. I never pushed him. I played baseball because it was my first love. Then for my son to develop that same love is very special for me. I’m proud to watch him play.” Vladdy II beamed the entire Sunday of his father’s induction.
Scouts who went to watch New Hampshire, as well as people in the Blue Jays organization, marvel at how well-coached Bo Bichette is at the age of 20. The .904 career OPS is just an indication of the talent he may be three to five years from now.
Cavan Biggio is 23, but one Jays official says, “I can’t overstate how important he’s been for both Guerrero and Bichette. Cavan has power (26 HR, 90 RBI and a .929 OPS), he can play a number of positions, he’s like his father in that his uniform is always dirty, but he has unusual leadership skills. That leadership and authenticity will really play in the majors.”
Craig, naturally, was also in Cooperstown for Vladdy’s induction, and is very enthusiastic about the talent of the younger Guerrero and Bichette. “We never pushed Cavan, either,” said Craig. “We wanted him to get his education, which he did. He was always around baseball. We had some great teams and I had great teammates like Baggy (Jeff Bagwell) and Brad Ausmus and Carlos Beltrán and I think they may have rubbed off on Cavan. But he wasn’t raised to be a baseball player, he was raised with the opportunity to seek out what he wanted. Baseball turns out to be what he loves right now. I couldn’t be more proud.”
There are people in the Orioles organization who have scouted Bobby Witt Jr. this entire year and believe that he may be the first player picked in next June’s draft, especially if the O’s hold that pick. He is 6-foot-1, 190 pounds. He has a big arm; father Bobby, who pitched 16 years in the majors, had such a great arm he got the only 80 scouting grade in the history of The Scouting Bureau and retired after 2001, when he won his World Series ring with the Arizona Diamondbacks. “He didn’t really have that clubhouse experience because that’s the year he was born,” says the senior Witt. “But I was in the game (as an agent and coach), and he gravitated to baseball pretty naturally.”
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The Witt son has a big pitching arm. (Two years ago he got to start a showcase game at Fenway so his grandparents, who live in suburban Canton, could see him throw for the first time). But Bobby Sr. preferred that he not follow in his father’s shoes, and his infield talent is scary. He has exceptional hands, the big arm, good reads off the bat.
But it is his bat that awes scouts. At the high school home run hitting contest in Washington two days before the All-Star Game, he won the contest, at one point hitting five consecutive pitches over 420 feet to right center. “He has magic hitting hands,” says one scouting director. “The power potential is ridiculous. He also is a model prospect. He’s respectful, he works hard, he clearly cares.”
His father says, “I didn’t coach him — I don’t believe in that father-son coaching business. I’ve witnessed too many horrors. I have thrown him a lot of batting practice, and he figures out a lot on his own. I talk to him about things like respect, how to carry himself, the importance of being a good teammate, the importance of listening to coaches, the importance of running every ball out hard.” Hence, the younger Witt is never over 6.4 seconds to first base. “If Bobby’s going to be a really good player, he has to want to be one, not be told by his father that he has to be one. Fathers provide opportunities for their children. I love providing the opportunity for my son to play baseball. That he loves it is great.”
It should be noted that Bobby Jr. wasn’t born when his father hit his only major-league homer, at Dodger Stadium in 1997, off Ismael Valdéz. As the person who took Johnny Ramone to that game for a TV piece on baseball and rock ’n’ roll, I can tell you that in his final days, Ramone recalled seeing Witt’s only home run to Eddie Vedder. Bobby Jr. probably has no idea who Johnny Ramone was, but Johnny Ramone never forgot his father.
Jack Leiter has been this summer’s high school pitcher whose star has risen. Like Witt, Al Leiter tried to have Jack play third base so he didn’t feel as if he had to follow in his father’s shoes. “Unfortunately, he has the Leiter hitting gene — which means he can’t hit,” says Al. “He wanted to pitch. He wasn’t big, but he loved to pitch and loved learning to pitch.
“Jack is a self-motivated person,” says his father. “He is a very good student. He’s had only one grade that wasn’t an A, and that was a B. When it came to taking the ACT, I thought maybe he should take some time and prepare for it. He didn’t want to do that. I told him his sisters got a 31 and that I wanted to see him beat that. He got a 32. That’s how competitive he is.”
Jack got an offer from Vanderbilt during his high school sophomore season and accepted. “What we love about Jack is that he didn’t have a velocity coach or try to break radar guns,” says one scouting director. “Rather than be a created kid, he developed organically. His father clearly taught him. He has a cousin in the big leagues, Al’s two brothers were professional pitchers, but unlike so many of the kids today who are rated by radar gun readings, he just wanted to pitch. He’s got the clean, great delivery. He sits at 94, touches higher, and he has a big-league curveball. I understand he’s a six-foot high school right-hander, but he can really pitch, he competes, he keeps getting better and better.”
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When Al was drafted, his family was not wealthy. It is different for his son. The chances are good that even if he is offered $3 million, his preference is going to be the college experience. And while some scout who doesn’t know Jack will throw a “he doesn’t want to play” out there, it is anything but the truth. Three college years and the academics. A couple of summers pitching for Orleans in the Cape League, where he went as a day camper as a kid. It worked for Walker Buehler and Kyle Wright at Vanderbilt. It worked for Gerrit Cole and Trevor Bauer at UCLA.
Jack also knows his father will be at his side, whatever he decides. “I can’t imagine I could experience more joy that I have traveling to these games and showcases and being with Jack,” says Al. “I’m experiencing it all with him, but I don’t push it. He’s got a very mature nature.
“I keep charts on first-pitch strikes, pitch selection, stuff like that,” says Al. “But it’s not a critique. We love the experience of sharing baseball together. I ask him what he was thinking, what he was trying to do, and we share the experience of talking baseball together, a father and his son talking about their shared passion.
“I’ve talked to him about things Harvey Dorfman taught me.” Leiter I says. “Don’t talk about results. Don’t talk about winning or losing. Don’t get caught up in what you’re supposed to do. Don’t talk about velocity. Just be mentally and physically prepared to make a quality pitch. That’s what Harvey told me over and over and over again. Simplify the game, one quality pitch at a time.”
These young players are blessed. They have the genes. They already know that throwing 100 mph at a showcase or being picked fifth in the country isn’t the end of the road, and that the road to a long, proficient major league career may go on forever.
But, mainly, these are young men, some of whose fathers are in the Hall of Fame, some of whom were All-Stars or earned World Series rings, who were raised, as Al Leiter says, “not to think about being like me,” but to be who they are comfortable being. In return, after being in baseball for more than 30 years, the fathers’ lives well spent will be extended — if ways even more nerve-wracking, but, in Leiter’s words, “even more joyous.”
(Top photo of Guerrero and Bichette: Cliff Welch/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)