Reese Kaplan -- We Forget Ballplayers Are Real People, Too

When the announcement was made that Dom Smith would have a bereavement day today, it reminded me that the athletes-as-entertainers we enjoy as ballplayers are actually real human beings like you and me.  Things that go bump in the night, the loss of loved ones and problems with significant others that affect all of us somehow also cross the paths of the rich and famous as well.  

We will hear stories about losses by players and sometimes shake our heads like it’s some gossip rag’s headlines.  Who cares about a player going through a nasty divorce, a slew of bad investments that has them squandering their money or even losing a $200,000 diamond earring on the stadium grass rarely ruffles our feathers.

In the case of Dom Smith, I felt a bit more personal appeal but it has nothing to do with what he has accomplished on the field.  Just last Thursday night he was the hero (while Marlins first baseman Jesus Aguilar played antihero) when Smith absolutely scorched a pitch towards right field which was curving from the over pull of his swing.  Aguilar made a feeble lunge for it while standing on the infield fielding his position, and it careened off his glove into foul territory making it by baseball rules a playable fair ball. Had he simply not made the attempt the ball was 99.9% certain to fall into foul territory and just simply give Dom another swing at the pitcher’s next heave of the ball from the mound to the plate.  

No, it’s a repeated story for some, but I met Dominic Smith on one of his many disappointing returns to the minor leagues when he failed to set the baseball world on fire with his abilities swinging the bat.  This incident occurred when the Mets AAA affiliate was the Las Vegas 51s and they played in the Pacific Coast League.  As such, they occasionally made their foray here into El Paso to challenge the San Diego Padres pennant winning team, the El Paso Chihuahuas.

It was the first of a few times for me to spend some time with Smith.  He agreed to meet with me in the hallway outside the locker room after the game ended when we could discuss his play in AAA, what it was like on his trip to the majors and how it felt returning to Las Vegas.  He was very pleasant, had a great smile and was surprisingly humble.  Maybe it was the reality of not sticking in New York that fueled this aspect of his personality, but he was willing to talk to me about anything and wasn’t rushing to get back inside to the showers.  

Another time I was not there in the press box but had chosen to go to the game with my wife and we were seated very nearly at the first row adjacent to the 51s visitor’s dugout.  He was smiling, happy and waved at us as we signaled our pleasure being within handshake distance from the players.  I called out to him and said I’d interviewed him on another trip and reminded him of one of the things we’d said about places to enjoy adult beverages while here in town.  

Much to my surprise, that memory came back and he wandered over for as long as he dared during the on-the-field pre-game portion of the evening to talk some more, say hello to my wife and shake hands with us.  I told him that he was destined to return to the Mets due to an injury to someone on their roster which opened up a need for someone at 1st base.  He laughed out loud and said how things didn’t work that way, but sure enough the next day he was summoned back to New York.

Now a baseball player knows that in addition to what he does on the field or from the bench he is at first an entertainer whose very value to the fans is helping them enjoy their time together and to forget whatever stresses were in their lives.  I’m sure he didn’t think at all about this small-time baseball reporter whose path he crossed more than once in El Paso.  By then he’d lost weight, slept with a CPAP machine and was hitting the ball with great authority.  He was on the way to starting (and not failing) as a professional baseball player.

Consequently when the news arrived about Smith’s bereavement, it was someone I felt I knew for more than what he did with his bat and his glove.  It was a chance encounter that had its redux at Southwest University Park both in the clubhouse area and in the stands.  Still, it was a reminder that players are people, too, and their losses are just as bad as anyone else’s misfortunes.  Someday the positive memories of the person he lost will push past the immediate shock and pain of the present day, but for now let’s remember that players suffer just like we do.