BERARDINO: K-Rod rides fast wave of stardom
<a href=www.sun-sentinel.com>URL Published March 27, 2003
PHOENIX -- Francisco Rodriguez stands tall, tucks his glove over his heart, looks in for the sign and prepares to make his pitch.
Only that's not a baseball in his right hand, it's a two-liter bottle of Pepsi. And this isn't the pitcher's mound at Edison International Field but a cavernous sound studio of high wood beams and cold concrete floors.
A hard midafternoon rain is falling outside, but the man-child who helped pitch the Anaheim Angels to their first World Series title can't hope for a rainout to spring him from this assignment.
K-Rod is stuck here for the next four hours shilling for a soft-drink company that is paying him handsomely for the right to slap his image on cans and cardboard cutouts from Southern California to his native Caracas, Venezuela.
This is just one of the endorsement deals Rodriguez, 21, has signed in the wake of his staggering rise to prominence last October. There's also a two-year contract with Nike, and his marketing representative, Scott Becher of Miami Beach-based Sports & Sponsorships, is still sifting through numerous other offers.
"His appeal is so special for somebody his age," Becher says during a break. "Frankie has the poise of a veteran. He's very comfortable with himself."
On the field, that much is obvious. Here, however, nothing comes naturally, especially with his two young daughters crying in the next room, but K-Rod gamely fights on.
He stands before a bright green background, clutches the big bottle of fizz, turns on his megawatt smile and tries to concentrate. Speaking in Spanish, he repeatedly invites potential viewers to "look for the Pepsi promotion at a store near you."
Three takes go by, then six, then a dozen. The kid who turned the World Series on its ear is growing frustrated.
"Lots of excitement, K-Rod," the director says. "Big smile, now. This is exciting!"
Finally, on Take No. 19, everybody is happy. Rodriguez then moves on to the English-language spot and nails it in two takes.
Ninety minutes of still photos follow.
"That was boring, man," Rodriguez says a few days later at Angels camp. "It was, `Stand up, do this, do that, go over here, stand right there, put your arm like this. Smile, don't smile.' Damn."
Endorsement work may bore K-Rod, but he is nothing short of fascinating when it comes to his primary profession. As compelling as Rodriguez's story was last season, when he began the year at Double-A Arkansas and wound up blowing away Barry Bonds on the sport's ultimate stage, he bears even greater attention now.
He remains a rookie, for starters, thanks to the technicality that landed him on the postseason roster with just two weeks of big-league experience. What's more, the baseball world will be watching to see if this former bonus baby with the high-90s fastball can keep his roll going or if he'll fade into the pack.
No one with the Angels is expecting any backsliding.
"He's got things in the proper perspective," Angels General Manager Bill Stoneman says. "He understands you've got to prove yourself. He's more mature than his age. That's what we've got here."
Rodriguez spent the winter in his troubled Venezuela but didn't go out much for fear of being robbed or worse. The political strife kept him from seeing his fiancee, Andrea Harvey, or their two daughters for more than one week all winter, but their bond is clear on that rainy afternoon in Phoenix.
When Rodriguez is able to break away between sessions, 2-year-old Adriana runs up to her Papi with a hug. Destiny, born last May while her daddy was pitching in Little Rock, watches the proceedings intently between afternoon feedings.
"It's kind of funny how everybody wants to do something with him now," Harvey says. "A year ago, they could care less."
They met three years ago at minor league spring training but didn't start dating until he was pitching during the 2000 season for Class A Lake Elsinore in the California desert. Harvey, the daughter of a Southern California police officer, was best friends with the wife of Rodriguez's roommate, Nelson Castro, but it wasn't love at first sight.
"I knew [Rodriguez] was young, and I knew he had signed for something [$950,000] because he was kind of, like, macho and driving around in his white Mustang convertible," she says, smiling. "He had his friends in the back and he was just screeching all over the place. I just thought he was some young kid that was just, like, a troublemaker, really."
A double date at a dance club helped change that perception, and soon they became inseparable, the cop's little girl and the baseball prodigy from Venezuela.
"He used to tell me all the time he was going to send me to jail," says Harvey, who at 23 is two years older. "I told him, `You're over 18.'"
He helped her learn Spanish, which she speaks constantly to their daughters. She helped him with his English, which he has picked up remarkably well, although he remains self-conscious, especially around strangers.
"He knows perfect [English]," she says. "Sometimes he doesn't think he knows something and he doesn't want people to laugh at him. He doesn't want to be embarrassed."
When the Angels were having trouble reaching Rodriguez during the offseason, they went through Harvey. She would track him down through friends or family and could relay messages back to the Angels, often within an hour or two.
When visas were scarce, there was talk of using a Canadian work visa or sending Rodriguez through the Dominican Republic on his way to spring training. Eventually he was able to land on these shores the conventional way, thanks to Harvey letting him know he needed to get to the U.S. embassy in Caracas.
She's a good influence on him, everybody says. Helps keep him grounded. Helps keep the K-Rod part of his personality from forcing plain old Francisco clear out of the picture.
"It's been kind of crazy for both of us," she says. "I'm not used to being in the spotlight. It's funny, you'll see people that didn't want to go to his games when he was in the minor leagues. Now, all of a sudden, he's such a good guy and they want to go see him."
Nobody's laughing at K-Rod now.
Mike Berardino can be reached at mberardino@sun-sentinel.com.