Nomah! Yah Made My Summah!

A few years back, when my son Trevor was about to enter into his Senior year at Stoughton High School, I set him up with hitting lessons with a former Red Sox farmhand and Stoughton native, Paul Rappoli.  Trevor, a left-handed hitter and pitcher as well as a starting center fielder, was 5’ 6” and 130 pounds at the time and was coming off of a Junior season where he established himself as one of the top pitchers and outfielders in his league. (Editors Note – If he was two inches shorter, ten pounds heavier and had a goofy bald spot, the Sawx would have given him 100 Million!) He batted just under .400 and averaged over 10 strikeouts per 7 innings with an ERA under 2.75 for the season.   But Trevor was a perfectionist and always wanted to improve his game and since trusted and respected Paul Rappoli, we turned to him to get Trev in shape for his Senior season.

Now I knew that Paul Rappoli had played many years in the Sox organization and had come up through the ranks with Nomar Garciaparra and that they had become very good friends.  Close enough that I also heard that Nomar was Rappoli’s best man at his wedding; that close!  They even collaborated on an annual summer baseball camp, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched to catch a glimpse of Nomar every now and then around Rappoli’s RBI Academy facility.

During Trevor’s second of three lessons, Paul Rappoli quietly mentioned to me that Nomar was going to be in town the following week and asked me if I thought Trevor would mind if he sat in on the lesson.  What was I going to say, “No Thank You?”  I tempered my excitement and nodded and told him that I was sure Trevor wouldn’t mind.  I never told Trevor though, partly because I didn’t want to get my hopes up in the event that Nomar had better things to do, but mostly, just to keep it a surprise.

The following week we showed up for Trevor’s’ lesson and Nomar was already in the cage talking with Paul Rappoli.   “You all set, Trev?” Rappoli asked. “Come on in.”

Trevor shot me a look, as if to say, “Are you kidding me?” as he tried to appear calm and unfazed by the presence of Nomar.   For the next 45 minutes, through drill after drill, Nomar and Paul collaborated on Trevor’s lesson while refining his swing.  I was awestruck that my son was getting a lesson from Nomar!  And I paid attention because, as a Coach, you are always learning and I was eager to pick up every nugget I possibly could from such a Boston Red Sox icon.

Occasionally Nomar would step back as Trevor worked through drills on his own and I used that time to chat with him.  I’m not stupid, I’m a baseball junkie and here was my chance to talk a little baseball with one of the best players of his era.  When I asked Nomar about his opinion on whether kids should focus solely on their best sport in High School years he told me that he didn’t necessarily agree with that line of thinking.  He went on to explain that he developed incredible footwork and quickness through years of playing soccer that he would not have developed simply by playing baseball.  He also felt that he might have never had what it took to become a professional baseball player without that agility and stamina.  I found that eye opening!  Wow, what a nugget!

I also told him the story from back in July of 2004 when I was coaching Trevor’s AAU baseball team in the National Championship Tournament, held in Minnesota.  The closing ceremony for our tournament was held on the Metrodome field prior to the Red Sox taking on the Twins on this particular Friday night.

We were one of only a few Boston area teams out of the 80 or so teams competing in the tournament so it was a thrill for the kids to march on the field and literally through their hometown team’s pre-game throwing workouts.  It was a Friday night game, 6 days after the July 24, 2004 Red Sox-Yankees brawl. You remember the one. That’s the night that Jason Varitek face-washed Alex Rodriguez after A-Rod whined about being hit by a pitch, in what Red Sox fans later called, “the turning point” of the 2004 Red Sox season.

Ed: Not for nothin’, but Varitek doesn’t take his mask off. And Everyone forgets, A-Rod getting him in a headlock and getting some shots in.

Anyway, I told Nomar about how the kids were all anxious to see if he (Garciaparra) was in the lineup that night because the trading deadline was the following day and the trade rumors included him.  I told him how the kids were all upset when he was not in the lineup that night and that we were all left shocked and disappointed.  (He was dealt later that night to the Chicago Cubs in a three-way deal that brought Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz to the Red Sox)  Nomar nodded and blurted, “You guys were shocked and upset? I was too!  I couldn’t believe it!  I never wanted to leave here (Boston)!”  Wow, I felt privileged to hear that straight from Nomar.  And I am sure he knew that we never wanted him to leave!  He was easy to talk to, cordial and open . . . and a wealth of baseball knowledge!

Trevor was ready for his next drill, so we shook hands as Nomar went back to work in the cage.  Now I have to tell you, Trevor was an emotional kid back then, sometimes very anxious, yet he practiced and played the game of baseball with the confidence and tenacity of a pit-bull, a bit like Dustin Pedroia does today. But still, I was shocked that he seemed calm, focused and almost unaffected that Garciaparra was working with him during this private lesson.  Imagine being a High School ballplayer and having your boyhood idol give you a private lesson?   How would I feel if Yaz gave me a private hitting lesson back in my High School days? I can’t even imagine how I’d feel, except to say that I would have been a stumbling, bumbling idiot during the lesson and probably couldn’t make contact, even using a basketball off of a tee.  But I digress.

 

I watched Trevor’s reaction as he received instructions from Paul and Nomar and his demeanor never wavered.  I thought that maybe this lesson was a lot bigger deal for me than it was for Trevor.  Perhaps, to him, it was just another expert giving him tips in the cage.  The lesson finally finished and Nomar commended Trevor for his hard work and complimented him on his solid swing mechanics.  They shook hands as Nomar wished him luck in the upcoming season and Trevor picked up his gear and exited the cage without another word.  We walked through the facility and to the car and still, Trevor said nothing as we started our drive home. ‘Strange,’ I thought, because Trevor grew up during Nomar’s heyday and he idolized Nomar as a kid, from his Tee-Ball days through his Little League days and beyond.  I expected some kind of reaction from him, especially once we were out of earshot of Nomar, but nothing; business as usual.

Another 15 minutes past and still not even a glance as Trevor sat there as if lost, deep in thought.  Suddenly and unexpectedly, he broke the silence, “You know he’s still my all-time favorite player?” he asked rhetorically but proudly.  Those few words spoke volumes.  They told me all I needed to know, they told a story.  It was then I understood his stoic behavior and what was really inside of him.  Somehow Trevor managed to keep it together during his lesson with Nomar, without a hint of the incredible excitement that was going through him to have his boyhood idol give him a private hitting lesson.  He had quietly soaked in every second, absorbing Nomar’s every word, but more so, absorbing the moment.  A moment that he will cherish for years to come and that he will proudly tell his children and Grandchildren about.  A moment that not many baseball players or fans have had the privilege of enjoying.  As for me, lets just say there was a little Jimmy Fallon (SNL) voice inside my head screaming, “Nomah, Ya made my Summah!”

I Need To Make This Very Clear.  I Hate This Guy. - Editor

 Tweet
Tell Jimmy Derochea about a close brush with greatness that you or someone you know have had Tweet @jimderochea

Comments

comments