Angels' reliever stays safe
www.sun-sentinel.com By Chuck Culpepper Sports correspondent Posted February 25 2003
Tempe, Ariz. · The 21st birthday of a rich, handsome and famous athlete brings images of nightclubs, techno music, popping flashbulbs, a limo finding home in the wee hours, and perhaps even an embellished recap in a tabloid. No, wait: Try a shut-in night in a fifth-floor apartment talking with mother and uncle and siblings and occasional police sirens as music and the possibility of light stinging in the eyes from any tear gas that might waft in, as it sometimes does.Venezuelan relief pitcher Francisco Rodriguez was an Anaheim surprise last baseball October, tearing above the Yankees and Twins and Giants with 28 strikeouts and five wins in 182/3 innings. The youngest pitcher to win a World Series game turned 21 on Jan. 7 and did, in his own words, "nothing." Then, "Nothing special." Then, "Like I said, nothing special." He craves no big birthday productions, but that isn't really the issue here. Even had he yearned to go out to show greater Caracas his stellar self, Caracas wasn't much in the mood. Caracas, in fact, instead mandated a 6 p.m. curfew for the wise. An anguishing offseason recap: Gunmen robbed Rodriguez's grandmother and uncle in a shop one day while Francisco waited outside, unaware. Protests raged not far from his family's place. Gasoline grew scarce; lines formed. The Venezuelan Winter League canceled because of safety concerns. Jogging in a public park felt dangerous, so Rodriguez bought an exercise bike and stayed in. Rather than beaming to followers on the street, Rodriguez had to stay wary. The president called for a meeting, and Rodriguez thought it prudent to decline so as to limit the visibility of himself and his well-known wallet. Freeways closed. The United States Embassy closed. The tear gas sometimes affected even those on the fifth floor. An oil workers' strike, a deeply controversial president and a decline in a living standard that started out rugged anyway can stoke such unrest. "Yeah, we had concern," said Bill Stoneman, the Angels' general manager, adding that reports on CNN and the like often ring scarier than seeing an entire city for yourself. "We saw the U.S. State Department put out a travel advisory about Venezuela and we were aware early on." The Angels struggled just getting through on the telephone to their cooped-up new star, finally resorting to communicating through Rodriguez's Southern California-based fiancee, who proved excellent at the task. They calibrated schedules with the U.S. Embassy in Venezuela, finding the scant days when the embassy reopened so Rodriguez could secure his visa. Even that didn't pave the path, a halting trip to Phoenix that included one futile ride to the Caracas airport with Venezuelan police, who arrived too late because of freeway closings. Having arrived at spring training, Rodriguez talks to his family daily, hopes to bring them to the United States and says they're doing well. "Everything now is calmed down," he said. "About 80 percent calmed down." Rich in compelling biographies both quirky and moving, the Angels swept to a World Series title on expert hitting, Rally Monkeys, ThunderStix, and one stupefying 20-year-old relief pitcher with but 52/3 major league innings in his blood when the postseason began. After 16 straight training camps as a playoff non-qualifier, they're in camp as world champions, but friendly as ever, including Rodriguez, who has held onto his considerable humility. "Frankie knows he's a good pitcher," pitching coach Bud Black said, "but he's also aware of the pitfalls that come with overconfidence." Here, manager Mike Scioscia talks repeatedly of operating from "that bottom rung of the ladder, again," and of "climbing the mountain" again, but admits the mountain doesn't look so imposing. "I think you know the mountain's achievable now," he said. "You always know what your goal is, and you can believe you can, but sometimes until you do it, it can become like you're chasing a ghost." The ghost chased and caught the first time, the stable Angels who went 104-54 (counting postseason) after their 6-14 start will look markedly similar to 2002. They'll bring their relentless hitting engine, leading off with the plucky shortstop people thought too short (David Eckstein) and an outfielder whose North Dakota high school had no baseball team (Darin Erstad), and they'll hope for glory from young pitchers, including Game 7 World Series winner John Lackey and, in relief, one unusually wizened man of 21. Chuck Culpepper writes for Newsday, a Tribune Co. newspaper.