Weaver Warming to Desert Duty
by Marcia Smith, Orange County Register
July 11, 2005
RANCHO CUCAMONGA – The 40-mile ride on the Rancho Cucamonga Quakes' team bus will take him north on a twisting stretch of Interstate 15, past the billboards heralding giant steak dinners, cheap motels, outlet malls and nickel casino slots, then up U.S. 395 into the jagged, hot-hill heart of the Mojave Desert.
There, in Adelanto, a half-mile-high city of 18,869 residents, lies the Stadium Way ballpark of the Class-A High Desert Mavericks, where tonight, Jered Weaver is scheduled to make the fifth start of his pro baseball career.
The ride should take about an hour. Too bad his trip from 2004 Angels first-round draft pick to fledgling farmhand took much longer, given all questionable directions that led to his season-long holdout.
What the Angels now have is a delayed Dream Weaver, age 22 instead of 21, with a 1-1 record, a bloated 6.28 ERA and an aching right shoulder from suddenly throwing so much after sitting out so long.
It hasn't helped that his mound is heaped skyscraper high with his own expectations and other people's misgivings about how Weaver's hard-line agent, Scott Boras, originally pushed for more than double the $4 million signing bonus that the Long Beach State All-America pitcher ultimately accepted.
"That was the business of baseball. All I can do now is go out there and prove myself," the lanky 6-foot-7 right-hander said. "This is like my spring training."
Since he reported to the Angels' Class-A affiliate June 4, Weaver has happily sunk into this minor-league life that has been just as unglamorous as his older brother, Dodgers pitcher Jeff Weaver, described.
Jered Weaver embraces the entry level's anonymity, though he has less than most forgotten players here. He doesn't mind the small crowds in postage-stamp ballparks the size of 3,238-seat Blair Field, where the two-time co-Big West Player of the Year led the nation in victories (15) and strikeouts (213) in 2004.
The 95-degrees-in-the-shade afternoons warming up for California League games don't bother him. Neither do the luggage toting and the Rand McNally-turning bus rides to the next freeway-exit stadium, both reminiscent of college.
"I enjoy the rides because they give me time to connect with my teammates, be close," Weaver said. "I didn't know what to expect or how they would react to me."
It's not every day that a minor-leaguer pulling down $25,000 a year, living out of a suitcase, living on drive-thru dinners and sharing an extended-stay motel room with another cash-strapped teammate gets to be on the same team with a big-name prospect who settledfor a club-record $4 million.
But Weaver stuck with his laid-back, boogie-boarder personality, friendly, humble and kind, still superstitious about hopping the base line when coming out of the dugout, still carving his grandparents' initials in the mound's dirt before he pitches each inning, still being the long golden-haired surprise.
He hasn't been flashy with his money. He bought a one-bedroom condo in Rancho Cucamonga, splurged on a digital camera and other electronic gadgetry, and left the bulk of his $4million to collect interest.
The shiny, black, late-model 3-series BMW that stood out among the older SUVs and dusty sedans in the Quakes parking lot wasn't his, though players had whispered it might be. (The car belonged to a Los Angeles newspaper columnist.)
"They got to know me and realized I was real down-to-earth," Weaver said. "Being part of a team is what I love about baseball, and we get along really well."
He shook the hand of catcher Tim Duff, thanking him for handling last-minute warm-up pitches before his June 20 debut. Weaver rose to join in the high-fives for a home run by Brandon Wood, 20, the Angels' 2003 first-round shortstop whose 28 homers lead the Cal League and are one off the Quakes' single-season record.
Weaver, the object of attention from future-minded Angels fans and Angels player development director Tony Reagins, doesn't want special treatment. No red carpets run from the dugout to his mound. No trumpets sound every time he fans a batter.
He doesn't have 10 million demands, just a few. Just baseball, which is special enough after "the 400 days," his euphemism for the controversial holdout. Just a spot in the five-man rotation with James Holcomb, a 2002 eighth- rounder; Rafael Rodriguez, a 2001 free agent from the Dominican Republic; Chris Hunter, a 2003 41st-rounder; and Bill Edwards, a 2004 29th-rounder.
"I want to improve my arm strength, get my off-speed pitch where I'd like it, be more
consistent and do the things I need to do to master baseball at this level," Weaver said.
The bats are faster than in college, hitters smarter. There's less room for error, and he admits he has struggled to find comfort pitching every five days instead of every seven.
And his arm, which is still strengthening to hurl his fastball with 90-mph velocity, to regain the control to clip the corners of the plate and to maintain enough consistency to stretch 80 pitches deeper than five innings, is "only about 80-85 percent" of what it was at the height of his college career and during his final appearance in the 2004 NCAA Super Regional.
So with his college fame, his 37-9 record and 2.43 ERA and his school records for strikeouts (431) and victories (37) and his Golden Spikes Award belonging to yesterday, Weaver builds new career statistics.
In his June 20 debut against the San Diego Padres-affiliate Lake Elsinore Storm, he ran up to his 50-pitch limit by just the third inning and left the game tied, 1-1, having given up three hits and two walks and striking out four.
He took defeat in his second outing June 25, working just 21/3 innings against Stockton, allowing five hits (one home run) and four earned runs and striking out five.
Weaver didn't get a decision in his third start June 30 against Lake Elsinore, which burned him for eight hits (one home run) and seven runs (five earned) in four innings.
His first career victory came Tuesday at the Epicenter, 7-6, over Bakersfield. He threw 85 pitches in five innings, struck out seven, walked none and limited the Blaze to two runs on two hits.
"I finally started to feel strong," Weaver said about the victory. "My brother told me that he didn't start to feel comfortable until his fourth or fifth start. We talk all the time about the adjustment."
Pitching coach Erik Bennett works closely with Weaver, who also gets feedback, but no timeline, from the Angels' management.
"I haven't mastered this level," he said. "I don't know how long I'll be here."
Eighty miles and an unknown number of starts and stops from Angel Stadium, Weaver's climb to the majors continues in the desert tonight - and tomorrow, wherever the bus takes him.
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