Big-League To No League -- Won't Somebody Call Fernando Valenzuela?
LOS ANGELES - The morning arrives, the eyes open and Fernando Valenzuela stares at the unemployed pitcher's menu: Free weights or golf? A jog in the park or a game of toss? Watch a game on television or watch the calendar and suffer?
If you are Fernando Valenzuela - left arm aching to pitch, proud and determined - you do nothing but think about returning home, to the only place that really is home. You think about returning to the big leagues.
"That's it. That's all he thinks about," said Tony DeMarco, Valenzuela's agent, manager and confidant. "He works out. He is in very, very fine shape. When somebody needs him, and somebody will, he will be ready. And that somebody will not regret it."
These lonely days, Valenzuela practices pitching in a Los Angeles park, imagining the day he returns to a big-league mound and proves the L.A. Dodgers sold him short.
He waits on that elusive somebody to call. The wait has been tedious. There was frustration when no one called immediately. There was confusion when no one called later. There is resignation now.
"This is my game now," Valenzuela said. "Until I get back in the major leagues, this is what I must do. When somebody calls me, I want to be able to say, `Just give me time to pack my bags.' "
Valenzuela, an 11-year veteran with one Cy Young Award and 141 victories, has been out of the game, out of his element, for six weeks. He is settling in for the long haul, a haul that could well
have no triumphant resolution.
Valenzuela, an 11-year veteran with one Cy Young Award and 141 victories, has been out of the game, out of his element, for six weeks. He is settling in for the long haul, a haul that could well have no triumphant resolution.
He was released by the Dodgers after a poor spring and with the memory of September's fade still fresh.
Less than a year after pitching a no-hitter against the St. Louis Cardinals, Valenzuela is a left-hander no one seems to want.
"Awhile back, we were thinking something would have happened sooner," DeMarco said. "What we didn't realize was that the timing of his release was terrible. Nobody has had a chance to see what their needs are. Some people we think are interested are still waiting, and some people have indicated they might be interested."
DeMarco won't identify those interested. There have been rumors the San Diego Pares are.
The San Francisco Giants have the worst earned-run average in the league and the least stable rotation, but General Manager Al Rosen has said he's not interested in signing Valenzuela.
Ten teams have an ERA higher than 4.00, but no one wants to talk to Fernando. The California Angels seem to snicker every time a newspaper columnist suggests they sign him.
"Fortunately, Fernando and I decided we had to be patient," DeMarco said. "In the beginning, we were frustrated and surprised. But we're not panicking. We're not anxious. Fernando is financially set, so he can wait."
But how long can he afford to wait? He is 30 and clearly not the pitcher he was five years ago, the last time he finished a season with a winning record.
Questions about Valenzuela's effectiveness persist. No one will admit it for the record, but there is concern Valenzuela has lost it and, the longer he remains out of competition, the more difficult it will be for him to return.
His fastball couldn't break 80 mph this spring. He finished last season with an ugly September that included a 1-3 record and an 8.40 ERA.
He allowed 223 hits in 204 innings, gave up more doubles (51) than anyone else in the majors and barely averaged six innings per start.
But DeMarco scoffs at the suggestion Fernando is anything less than big-league caliber.
"He has five good years left," DeMarco said. "He belongs in the big leagues, and that is where he'll stay."