And So It Begins.....

Standing in Center Field With a Latte .... What the Hell Does That Mean?
Dateline: Friday, May 23, 2003
Location: Miller Park, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
We just flew in from playing the Rockies @ home in Dodger Stadium. Team Hotel is the Hyatt Regency in Downtown Milwaukee. Quite a change from when I was in the American League with the Angels. We stayed at the Hotel Pfister circa 1893. This is a true landmark. A property filled with gold gilded ceilings, straight out of "The Shining". You could easily see creepy little kids on tricycles if you let your mind wander. Lots of players wouldn't stay here, particularly our Latin players because of the hotel's reputation for being haunted. I think about this every time we come to play the Brewers, glad to be at the Hyatt tonight.
I wake up at 6:30am, not having remembered that we traveled after last night's game and I realize this is not my bedroom in Coto de Caza CA. I amble over to the door to check what city I'm in. Ahhhh, Milwaukee. My gluttonous thoughts immediately kick in. Brats!! Shower up and wander down West Kilbourn Avenue in search of a Starbucks. Found one. Nice. As I sit over my quad Americana I notice the familiar ache in my hands and wrists. Gonna need some help getting through work today... More on this later.
Training staff shows up in the hotel lobby on the road at 12 noon for a 7pm game this evening. We pile into a taxi and make our way to the park. The visiting clubhouse in Milwaukee is a great one, every player likes coming here. Big Training Room...and did I mention Brats?? One detractor however, unlike most stadiums, there is no runway from the Clubhouse to the Dugout. Whoever is unlucky enough to have the corner locker (usually a rookie) is literally about 6 feet away from the dugout. Ha, change quick!
We get to the park about 12:30pm and begin the load in. Rows and rows of our training room equipment awaits us, ready to be unpacked. I'm lucky enough to be part of a great training staff. Stan Johnston (Head Trainer), Matty Wilson (Assistant Trainer) Pat Screnar (Physical Therapist), Todd Claussen (Strength and Conditioning Coach), myself (Muscle Therapist), and Hideyuki Fukazawa (Japanese intern). We are all proud of working under the direction of Medical icon and "Tommy John" surgery pioneer Dr. Frank Jobe. First order of business for the load in...Matty Wilson plugs in our stereo and BLASTS "Black Betty". Now we know the day will be OK. We lay out every possible thing our players will need today, from band aids to ice packs to the docs injectibles - we're the Dodgers, we don't miss a thing. The visiting clubbies marvel at the size of our training staff. Once the load in is complete, it's now "our" time for about an hour. Time to remember that you're a husband, dad, and human being. My mind wanders to my "other" life. My beautiful wife Barbara and great 13 yr old son Will. This is where my ritual begins. It's only 2 hours into the work day and I already need my "me" time. I like to call it my "FU" time. It's now 1:45pm. Our Disabled List guys are starting to filter in and some of the rookies have figured out that getting treatment later in the day when the "Big Boys" are in is not a good idea. I'm due on the field at 2:30pm for "early hitting". This is the time when rookies and DL guys and guys who just haven't had a lot of at bats get extra hitting. This is also the time when I get to hit. I have been blessed to take batting practice, take infield throws at first base and shag batting practice in every National League and American League Stadium. 36 in all if I can remember correctly....more on that later.
In every stadium we go to, I grab a cup of coffee and my cell phone and walk the field. This is a special time for me, probably because I never thought I would ever be able to experience this. It is an incredibly surreal feeling. I stand in the outfield, looking towards home plate at a completely empty stadium. This is Baseball, I am reminded. The smell of the grass, the thought that in 5 hours this place will be rocking. But right now, not so much. I can hear the birds chirping sitting on the seats behind me. I am enjoying this moment immensely. It is a healing moment. A cathartic moment. A "me" moment.

I am awakened from this reverie by my cell phone. I answer it. It's my wife Barbara calling from work back home in CA. She says "I didn't check the schedule yesterday, where are you?"

My answer of course is.... "STANDING IN CENTER FIELD WITH A LATTE."