Things that make you go "Aaargh!"

There's a new book out about baseball scouting in Venezuala (Venezuelan Bust, Baseball Boom by Milton H. Jamail), focusing on the work of scout Andres Renier. Renier is currently a special assistant for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, a position he's held since 2006. Before that, he worked for the Houston Astros, founding their Venezuelan baseball academy, a facility that produced Bobby Abreu, Richard Hidalgo, Melvin Mora, Carlos Guillen, Freddy Garcia and Johan Santana, among others. Why should you care?

From Kevin Baxter's LA Times review of the book:

During the 1970s and early '80s, oil-rich Venezuela was the wealthiest country in Latin America. More than 75% of the population was middle class and rising, thanks in part to a government that spent lavishly, sending thousands of students abroad to study.

As a result, baseball was considered a game, not a career, and parents weren't beyond hiding a son's glove should he ever get the two confused. The major leagues paid the country little notice.

Then came Black Friday, Feb. 18, 1983 -- the bust in the book's subtitle -- when a steep drop in oil prices led to a devaluation of the bolivar. Before long, more than half of all Venezuelans were considered poor and baseball suddenly was seen as a way to escape poverty, just as it is in the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua, Cuba and elsewhere in Latin America.

Timing was on Reiner's side then when, less than a year later, the longtime Venezuelan resident approached the Astros, San Francisco Giants and Pittsburgh Pirates with his idea of a Dominican-style training academy, where Venezuelan prospects could be scouted, signed and developed.

All three turned him down.

Reiner was undeterred, telling everyone that Venezuela could produce as many major leaguers in the next five years as it had in the last 40.

He was wrong, of course. It took eight years.

During that period, Reiner had persuaded new Houston General Manager Bill Wood to spend $60,000 to fund his proposed academy, and in August 1989 the Astros' Venezuelan facility opened in Valencia. And Reiner wasted little time proving his seemingly preposterous projections right: Eight of the first 14 players he signed went on to play in the majors, a ridiculously high success rate.

It's easy to play the "what if" game, but wow, that was a pretty big mistake by Galbreath and Co. How much would we be willing to pay for that kind of exclusive access to a prime talent market now? I guess the take-home lesson is that we need to be open to the long view about similar opportunities in the future.

If you're interested in reading more, this 2005 article from the SF Chronicle is pretty good.

Fogotten Bucco History - "I Got It!"

I stumbled across the following bit while doing some research, and I figured it was worth sharing. From the May 31, 1886 edition of The Sporting News (p.5):

In a game at Pittsburg, Morris was knocked down twice in running at flies. First he collided with Ringo, and next Carroll ran against him, sending him to the ground with a bloody nose. Poor coaching was the cause of these collisions.

A lot of people like to pretend that players from way back when had perfect fundamentals and played purely out of a love for the game, and I think it's refreshing to see a reminder once in a while that the old-timers were just as greedy and lazy and fumble-fingered as the players of the modern era.

Incidentally, if you're interested in old-time baseball, Paper of Record is a tremendous resource. They offer a free, searchable online archive of a number of different newspapers, including a complete run of The Sporting News from 1886 to 2003 (listed under Missouri, its state of publication). That's more than 189,000 pages of textual goodness, most of it baseball-related.

Forgotten Bucco History - Signing Gino Cimoli

I was flipping through Kevin Kerrane's excellent book "Dollar Sign on the Muscle" on my lunch hour, and I ran across this classic narrative by longtime Pirate scout Howie Haak about scouting and signing Pirate outfielder Gino Cimoli:

Gino's mother didn't want him to leave home. And Joe Devine, the Yankee scout, figured he had Cimoli locked because he told her the Yankees would let Gino start out right there in San Francisco. So in December of 1948 I called Rickey to let him know al this, and he said, "Can you strengthen his father's backbone through his stomach?" I said, "You want me to get Mr. Cimoli drunk?" He said, "I didn't say that." I said, "Well, when you get my expense report there's gonna be some entries on there for Ancient Age."

Gino's father worked from four to midnight, and for four days I went over to their house every morning at eight o'clock with two bottles of Ancient Age. I'd sit there and drink with him - because coffee kills me; I can't drink coffee - and then I'd drive him to work. Then Gino and I would go to a show, and then I'd go back to the house with him and wait till his father got home, and I'd stay till the last scout's car had left - about three in the morning. I knew I couldn't sell Mrs. Cimoli, so I bore down on the father.

After the fourth day I said, "Mr. Cimoli, who wears the pants in your family?" He said, "I do." I said, "I don't believe it. Gino wants to sign with Brooklyn for twelve thousand dollars, and you want him to sign, and your wife's holdin' up the whole deal." He said, "She's not holdin' it up another minute!" So he staggered up and got her out of bed - she was wearin' one of those old nightcaps women used to wear and a great big kimono - and he said, "Go wake Gino up. We're gonna sign this contract right now!"

Both Rickey and Haak were working for the Dodgers at that point, but Rickey became the Pirates' GM in 1950, and Haak followed his boss to Pittsburgh. Rickey was gone by 1955, but Haak stayed with the Bucs, to the team's great benefit. He's the guy who recommended that the team take Roberto Clemente in the Rule 5 draft, and he basically invented the practice of Latin American scouting, signing guys like Manny Sanguillen and Omar Moreno for the Pirates. He died in 1999. Cimoli wore black and gold in 1960 and 1961, and he played a key role in Game 7 of the 1960 World Series, starting the Bucs' eighth-inning rally with a single right before Virdon hit Kubek in the throat with that bad-hop grounder.

If you need a last-minute gift for a baseball fan, I can't recommend "Dollar Sign on the Muscle" highly enough. It's still the best book ever written about baseball scouting, and it's right up there with "You Gotta Have Wa" and "Veeck as in Wreck" as one of my all-time favorites.