They Call Me Pudge: My Life Playing the Game I Love
256
They Call Me Pudge: My Life Playing the Game I Love
256eBook
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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781633197497 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Triumph Books |
| Publication date: | 08/01/2017 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 256 |
| Sales rank: | 700,496 |
| File size: | 39 MB |
| Note: | This product may take a few minutes to download. |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
They Call Me Pudge
My Life Playing the Game I Love
By Ivan Rodriguez
Triumph Books LLC
Copyright © 2017 Ivan Rodriguez and Jeff SullivanAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63319-749-7
CHAPTER 1
Hall of Fame and Clearing the Air
The days before the Hall of Fame results were announced on January 18, 2017, I was a mess. I'm pretty sure that's the most nervous I have ever been in my life. I was barely sleeping. I've never been much of a drinker, but I had a few those nights. I knew the vote was going to be close — someone told me the night before that mine could very well be the closest vote ever. This was my first time on the ballot. Some didn't see the big deal of being selected the first time around, but for me it was incredibly important.
There was a lot of praying those days before the announcement. My wife, Patricia, stayed with me almost every moment. As always, she was my spiritual guide when I needed her most. We stayed up late, which I have always been guilty of, even as a kid. The only difference was that I wasn't really going to sleep when the sun came up. The more stressed I became, Patricia would pray more and more.
First, since I was seven years old, my goal has been to enter the Hall of Fame. There were obviously other goals — daily, seasonal, long-term — but first and foremost, nothing drove me more than wanting to be a Hall of Famer. To me that's the ultimate. That's everything; that's how we as athletes, as baseball players, are validated.
Also, my favorite player, my hero really, growing up was Johnny Bench. I wanted to do everything like him. And he was the only catcher to ever be elected on the first ballot. Well, just because I'm not a kid anymore doesn't mean I stopped wanting to do everything like Johnny Bench. I wanted to join him in being elected the first time around. I wanted to have that honor. I wanted to stand on that stage in Cooperstown with him as equals.
In fact, nothing made me happier in the days leading up to the vote when I saw some comments from Bench in The Dallas Morning News, saying: "He should be a lock. As complete a catcher as I've ever seen. He was intimidating behind the plate, a real solid hitter and incredibly durable. He is everything you'd hope for at the position."
Told that I had caught 20,000 innings, more than any other catcher and 650 more games than him, Bench said, "Those are crazy numbers. I had 17 broken bones in my body. I got to a point where I simply couldn't physically do it anymore. He kept doing it — and at a high level — for much longer. For him to endure the beating he took back there and keep playing, those numbers alone show that he belongs."
Look, I'm a competitive person. And as the day approached, I became more and more competitive, driven — I guess even obsessed — about the vote. I had zero interest in waiting another year. That's a long time waiting and thinking about why I wasn't elected my first year of eligibility. That year would have been torture.
And I'd like to think my numbers speak for themselves. The 13 Gold Gloves, which is a record for catchers, the 2,427 games caught, which is 201 more than Hall of Famer Carlton Fisk, who ranks second. I was known for my defense, which was always my primary focus, but I could hit a little, too. I had 2,844 hits, 311 home runs, almost a .300 career batting average. And I even stole 127 bases — not bad for a guy called Pudge.
I also won the American League MVP award in 1999 and seven Silver Sluggers as the league's best hitting catcher. Then there was the National League Championship Series MVP in 2003, when my Florida Marlins won the World Series.
Honestly, there was no reason the vote should even be close.
Well, it was. You need 75 percent of the vote, which this year meant 332 votes. I received 336 or 76 percent. The great Jackie Robinson received 77.5 during his first year of eligibility.
When the call came a few moments before the official announcement on Major League Baseball Network, I had been furiously pacing at my friend's house in Dallas. I had flown in from Miami the day before because if I was voted in we wanted to hold the press conference at Globe Life Park in Arlington. Yes, I played for six teams, but in terms of baseball, the Rangers were and are my home. From the time they signed me as a 16-year-old in Puerto Rico who didn't speak English, that's where I grew up.
After I found out about my induction into the Hall of Fame, my reaction was captured for eternity, as I lifted my left arm and pumped my fist. It's pretty easy to find with a Google search. The smile on my face says it all. Almost immediately, the joy overwhelmed me, and I started crying. My son, Dereck, came over and hugged me. That only increased the tears. Then Patricia wrapped hr arms around me and told me how proud she was, how much she loved me, and how our prayers and faith led to this moment. To have a dream you have thought about every day for 37 years become a reality, there really aren't any words to capture what that feels like. The closest description is to say I was euphoric, overjoyed with so much happiness that you can barely feel your feet on the ground.
The next few hours were beautiful and chaotic. I never really understood that American expression that your "head is spinning." Well, I do now. My head was spinning, and my phone was blowing up. After a few minutes of celebrating with my family, we were off for the 30-minute ride to the press conference at the ballpark. Once there, I spoke from the heart, saying, "To be honest with you, I haven't slept in three days. I'm not kidding. A lot of good friends telling me you're going to be in, you're going to make it. But at the same time, I was receiving a lot of caution — like if it's not this year, it's next.
"I didn't want to hear that.
"What can I say? Growing up as a child in my hometown of Vega Baja, Puerto Rico, to go into the Hall of Fame ... It's a great honor. I feel most proud to be in the Hall of Fame as a first-timer. It's not the second time or the fourth time. To be there in one of one is an honor."
The next morning, after finally grabbing a few hours of peaceful sleep, we were off to New York City. I was so proud. I joined my fellow inductees, Jeff Bagwell and Tim Raines, for a press conference. The official 2017 induction class also included former commissioner Bud Selig and longtime front-office executive John Schuerholz, who led the Kansas City Royals and Atlanta Braves to World Series championships, but they were selected a month earlier via the Veterans' Committee.
So, I threw out 661 base runners in my career, 46 percent of those who dared to run on me. Thing is, I never nailed Raines or Bagwell, who were a combined 5for-5 off me. Raines was one of the best ever on the base paths, so that's understandable. And Bagwell just stole one time, so that gave us something to joke about before the press conference. Obviously, it's a great group of guys to be inducted with, and I've always had the utmost respect for Raines and Bagwell. We'll always be linked, so having that eternal connection is pretty cool as well.
The Hall of Fame is the biggest of deals. I am humbled to be included. Fewer than 1 percent of those who play Major League Baseball are elected, and that's not even factoring in all those whose dreams died in the minor leagues. And of that 1 percent fortunate enough to be elected to Cooperstown, about 16 percent have been on the first ballot. And at 45 years old, I'm (for the moment) the youngest member of the Hall of Fame. Also, I'm quite proud to be the fourth Puerto Rican, joining Roberto Clemente, Orlando Cepeda, and Roberto Alomar. No other Latino country has produced more than two since World War II.
Those were the happiest few days of my life with the exception of my three children being born. For me, some of the questions that were being asked, it didn't matter. I'm a Hall of Famer, and the Rangers were retiring my No. 7 as well. That's all that matters. I couldn't be happier.
As for those questions, I'm happy to address them. I've never avoided them. There's so much misinformation and witch hunting when it comes to that era. Just because Jose Canseco writes something in a book, that doesn't make it fact. I don't hold grudges, so I've seen Jose since then and I shook his hand. That's what men do. I'm sure he had his reasons. Thing is, from what I've been told since I've never read the book, Jose basically threw everyone and everything he could find under the bus. He was throwing so many guys under buses that he needed to bring in one of those double-deckers from London. When someone says everyone is guilty, and a few guys end up being guilty, that doesn't make them right.
I never took steroids. Let's make that as crystal clear as possible — I never took steroids. If anyone says differently, they are lying. Here's what I did do. I worked my ass off. I was a guy who played the game the right way. I was disciplined with my workouts and my diet. I worked as hard as I could to do the best I could — every day for 20-plus years. I loved the game of baseball. That was my life. My earliest memories involve baseball. I was blessed with an arm from God, one capable of throwing like few players ever have. And I focused on baseball every day. I would be up watching games or highlights until three or four in the morning after our night games.
As for my training, weight loss, and weight gains along the way, I was always kind of stocky. As a sophomore in high school, shortly before the Rangers signed me in July 1988, I was 5'7", 165 pounds with a whole bunch of baby fat still on me. At minor league camp in 1989, I had grown another inch, maybe two (the last time that would happen) and put on a few more pounds. It was there, in Port Charlotte, Florida, that an instructor, Chino Cadahia, first called me "Pudge." Obviously, it caught on. I was always okay with it. It's a fun nickname; I get it. If someone asks me nowadays what I prefer, I usually just say either Ivan or Pudge.
I was eating a little better in the minor leagues, though certainly not watching my diet. That's a lot easier to do at 17 and 18 years young. Looking back, I ate a ton of protein, lots of chicken fingers. And I just played a lot of baseball, so the baby fat started to fall off. Those first few years in the big leagues with the Rangers, I gained more weight, more muscle than fat, and during the 1994–95 offseason I met Edgar Diaz. I had just turned 23 years old.
He was also from Puerto Rico, an Olympic pole vaulter who was a few years older than I was. I was playing winter ball and I guess he came to my game that day. Later that night he walked up to me at a restaurant called Lupi's, which is owned by former big league pitcher Ed Figueroa, and said, "By any chance, does your right knee hurt?"
Well, yes, my knee was bothering me some, and I wondered how in the world he knew that. I wasn't limping. My father taught me pretty early on not to show any weakness. Edgar explained that I was running incorrectly, that my toes, butt, and knees weren't lifting. I asked him if he could fix it, and he said yes and that I should meet him at the track the next day at 4:00 pm. I was there 10 minutes early, and we ran a bunch of different drills together. That became a daily ritual. I asked him to join me in Texas, so we could train during the season, and we've been together since. Even to this day, if I want to work out, I usually give him a call.
I was around 230 pounds the winter I met Edgar. His plan was to train me like a sprinter. He wanted me to lose weight, and within 18 months, I was down to 198. The new training schedule certainly wasn't easy, but there were immediate signs of progress. I had better strength, quickness, and explosiveness, especially later in games. My arm and swing were faster, too.
My power numbers improved, which is completely natural for any younger player. Offensively, the average big leaguer peaks at about 27 years old, which was how old I was for my MVP season of 1999. That year I hit 35 home runs. I probably would have hit 30 the two following years as well if not for injuries. I was never a power hitter, though. During my 16-year peak run from 1992 to 2007, I averaged 30 doubles and 18 home runs per season.
At the conclusion of the 1998 campaign, I told Edgar that I wanted to win the American League MVP award the following year. My teammate, Juan Gonzalez, who incidentally was from the same town in Puerto Rico as me, had won the honor two of the previous three seasons, and I always wanted to push myself. What better way to push myself more than being considered the best player in the game, right?
Edgar Diaz, Personal Trainer
"I told him, 'Hey, if you want to be an MVP, let's go train harder.' I also suggested that he not play winter ball in Puerto Rico that offseason, just dedicate himself to training and rest. After they lost to the Yankees in the first round of the playoffs in 1998, I told him to rest. 'Just enjoy life, do whatever you need to do, vacation, whatnot. And on November 1, we're going to take measurements and start training like never before.' That's what we did, and the baseball world saw the results the next year. We trained at least three hours every day that winter, three weeks on, one week off. In the afternoons he would work on his swing or other parts of his game, just not play in actual games, which was tough on him. He loves playing baseball so much.
"If you want to play for seven months during the season, you cannot train for just six weeks during the offseason. There's no way anyone can do that without getting muscle tears and wearing down. We ran 300 and 400-meter reps, did some weights, more reps and less weight, a lot of core stuff. He really started eating properly.
"During the 1999 season, I saw all 162 games. Sometimes he would wake me up at 3:00 in the morning and say he was having back pain or something. And I would go over there and give him treatment. I was a trainer, a physical therapist, a psychologist, everything. From that moment until now, we've been like brothers.
"Once he got his weight to 198 he stayed there for two or three years. But I had to tell him not to get too skinny because of his position and the amount of energy it required. Since catchers are always moving up and down so much, they have to store their energy in a little bit of fat. Pudge never went down below 8 percent body fat. He stayed at that level.
"I can't tell you how many times we would finish a workout, and Ivan would say, 'That's it? We're finished for today? I feel like I can do more.' He's a workaholic. He loves the game so much and he had that rare drive to strive to be the best."
My diet also changed as my career progressed, as I think happens with just about any professional athlete. And really, if you want to avoid being overweight, it probably applies to most people. When I was younger, I could eat whatever I wanted and, with all the calories I was burning off playing baseball, I was still skinny. I ate everything, though honestly, I was never a big candy or soda guy. After I met Edgar, though, especially in the offseason when we were training, there was a huge focus on protein like red meat, white meat, turkey, chicken, fish, or beef. All the proteins affect your body differently, so you can't just eat the same kind all the time.
Edgar and I worked out during the season, too, though those were much lighter obviously. We'd warm up; stretch; maybe run an 800-meter on the track; work on knee kicks, lunges, and more stretching. We focused on speed resistance and making sure I had the same energy every day. Even if we went extra innings, I wanted to feel the same as I did in the first inning.
I've always been hyper, so that meant usually going to sleep late. The good part of that is: once I fell asleep, I slept hard. We focused a lot on hydration and getting a lot of nutrients. And if I was eating healthy, there was no need for other kinds of stuff like supplements. I did take a lot of protein shakes or amino acids. In addition to eating well, resting, drinking lots of water, that's all you need. If you train well, work hard, and make the sacrifices needed, then you don't need anything extra.
Two other points I want to clarify: yes, I lost 25 pounds during the 2004–05 offseason. This caused some speculation since it was after Canseco's book came out, and the league was finally starting to become serious about testing. The truth is my first wife, Maribel, and I were going through a divorce at that time, and it was horrible. I don't think anyone besides those closest to me could know how tough that was, how much it drained me physically and mentally. It was a low point.
There was no training that offseason, at least in the sense of how Edgar and I had been doing it. Looking back, I was probably depressed. I wasn't eating well, not so much bad food, just not eating much, not getting the protein I needed. I was sleeping worse than usual. My only outlet was going for bike rides. I started going for long rides, whether it be the stationary bike or outside. I would ride 20 or 30 miles a day. That was most of the offseason.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from They Call Me Pudge by Ivan Rodriguez. Copyright © 2017 Ivan Rodriguez and Jeff Sullivan. Excerpted by permission of Triumph Books LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword by Nolan Ryan,Foreword by Jim Leyland,
1. Hall of Fame and Clearing the Air,
2. More Than a Pastime,
3. Living the Baseball Life,
4. Bound for the Big Leagues,
5. Breaking In,
6. Behind the Plate,
7. The MVP,
8. A-Rod and the Departure,
9. Forever a Champion,
10. A New Home,
11. Umpires and the Empire City,
12. A Return to the Lone Star State,
13. Retirement,
14. All-Star Games,
15. A Catcher's Legacy,
Appendix,
Acknowledgments,
Photo Gallery,
