MiLB LIFE: Extended Spring Training

I find myself in Baseball Purgatory. It's not Spring Training. It's not the regular season. It's not even a plane ticket back into the real world job market. Nope, it's Extended Spring Training - and both the length of my stay and my next destination are unknown.

When Spring Training ended last week and team rosters were published, my name was nowhere to be found. As teammates and friends began to pack their bags for greener pastures, I stayed put. I was a man without a team - and Spring Training was far from over.

There were about twenty of us left behind. A few days later, forty more guys who hadn't been invited to Spring Training showed up.

Suddenly, it was day one all over again - the introductions, the meetings, the drills. As my friends prepared for the start of a 140-game season, I was beginning Spring Training all over again.

As discouraging as it is to be in Extended, I do take comfort in a simple phrase that has served as consolation to millions before me: "It could be worse." It's true. I'm healthy, I didn't get released, and I'm living in a city that is far nicer than any town I'd be playing in had I made a roster. It could be worse.

MiLB LIFE: Big League Picture Day

What you can't see are the mesh shorts and shower shoes that DJ's sporting underneath that stoic pose.

It's the picture you want everyone to see. Family, friends, thousands of screaming fans - if they see it, you've made it.

Yesterday was picture day at the ballpark for all Minor League players. After finishing breakfast, we were instructed to make our way to the media room where a photographer had set up shop. Once we arrived, we were each given a jersey and a hat - a Major League jersey and hat. This was no ordinary mugshot - this was the picture that would be shown on stadium scoreboards if you were to play in a Big League game at any point during the season.

It seemed ridiculous to me. Over the course of the morning, over 100 players lined up to get their mandatory headshots taken. With each player I saw in line, I estimated their odds of making the Bigs by year's end. Most players received an insensative, yet realistic 0.00% - yet there we were, in a line that rivaled the wait at the DMV.

In reality, maybe a handful of players in that line will get to experience a call to The Show this year. Their pictures will be shared with the world - the rest will likely be deleted and forgotten.

MiLB LIFE: "The Manager Wants to See You"

"The manager wants to see you." These words mark the beginning of the end.

The second this sentence is aimed at you, you're a dead man - and everyone knows it. As you make your way toward the manager's office, you creep closer to the end of your baseball career with each step.

The phrase casts a hush over the clubhouse. For that moment, everyone feels vulnerable. You could be a first-rounder in the middle of an all-star season, but in that instant, you can't help but fear you will be next.

Regardless of your relationship with the player in question, you feel awful. He may be your direct competition for a starting job or a promotion - his release may ultimately translate into more opportunities for you - but for the moment, that's not important. This is a kid who has spent his whole life playing baseball, just like everyone in that clubhouse - and today, the game he loves is being taken away from him.

SMALLS TALK: Approaching Spring Training

(This article was written for my friends at FullWindup.com)

One more day. After months of being asked when I would head to Spring Training, I had developed a signature response: "Not til early March." The expression was in the holster at all times, cocked and loaded, ready to be fired back at anyone who asked the popular question.

I said it so many times that the phrase had lost all meaning. It was a concept that always seemed so distant and irrelevant at the moment. Although I was training on a daily basis, I had grown accustomed to my off-season life- baseball was on the back burner.

But today, as I began cleaning out my apartment and saying goodbye to friends, it hit me. It had quickly become "Early March," and I was a mere twenty-four hours away from the beginning stages of the 2011 season. Baseball was near. One more day.

With that realization, my mind naturally began to wander: Am I ready? Did I do enough during the off-season? What level will I start at? What team will my friends start on?

The Future of Minor League University

Minor League University got me through the off-season. I went to work every day, not dreading the stack of paperwork or staff meetings that were ahead of me, but excited about the hour long block of my day I had set aside to be 'Scotty Smalls'. I was anxious to share little tidbits of my life in the minors, and I couldn't wait to go on rants about anything related to the wide world of baseball. 

My off-season job was perfect. After a long season, I needed a break from baseball, and I appreciated my time away from the game- but for that chunk of the morning I spent writing the day's post, I was right back in baseball mode, and I loved it. In a setting where passion and excitement were lacking, it was a daily reminder of my love for the game- a small way for me to stay connected.

So now that my time at the office is over and my departure for Spring Training is a mere week away, what does the future hold for MLU?

Lawlessness. Sheer lawlessness.

COLLEGE to PRO: Competition

The jump from college to pro baseball is ridiculous. Pitchers throw harder, guys hit the ball further, and no one, I mean no one, makes an error. I felt so overwhelmed when I stepped on a professional diamond for the first time- these guys were baseball machines!

Ok, ok- absolutely none of that is true. That may be the conception of most players walking into a professional clubhouse for the first time, but it only takes a few minutes of that first Rookie Ball practice- perhaps when the guy you're throwing with air mails you by 10 feet, or when the pitcher fielding grounders watches the ball go through his legs for the third straight time- for you to realize that the guys around you are all human.

Your new teammates are just like you- they were the best players on their college team, and there's something about them- a tool, a quality, a mindset- that enables them to play at the next level- but they're not perfect.

Every first year player makes mistakes- hell, every Big Leaguer makes mistakes. Baseball is a game made up of errors and miscues, but it's the best players and best teams that are able to minimize those miscues. Consistency is what every player strives for in this imperfect game- it's what separates the best from the rest.

Consistency is also what separates pro-ball from college baseball.

COLLEGE to PRO: Team-Issued Gear

In college, you have it made. You are given everything you could ever need while playing or preparing for the game of baseball- you could literally show up on day one of practice without a single possession and you'd be perfectly fine. Your school dresses you, puts a glove on your hand, places a bat on your shoulder, and slips a fresh pair of cleats on your feet- and just in case, there's an extra pair sitting in your locker. Back in school I was all about the free gear, so naturally when I made the jump to pro-ball I assumed there'd be even more handouts. To say I was let down is an understatement.

On my first day in Rookie Ball, I walked into the clubhouse equipment room expecting the full treatment. In my mind I saw maple bats, a table filled with different glove models, and a tailor running toward me with a measuring tape, eager to form-fit my uniform. I mean, this was professional baseball!

What I got was an entirely different experience, however. I walked in thinking I was hot stuff, and I left realizing I was nothing but a name checked off a list for having received his pro-ball gift basket.

What I had come to know in college as a thorough process of careful perusing and selecting was now a whirlwind of flying clothing and quick-draw 'yes or no' questions. I stood still, a target for the clubbies as they ran around, throwing socks, jerseys, shorts, and hats in my direction. It was all hands off- no options or choices, aside from uniform number and bat model.

MLU's HAT OF THE WEEK: Corpus Christi Hooks

I've always been a sucker for the navy and light blue combo. The Corpus Christi Hooks have a winner with this home cap- great colors complemented by a fun logo: the staples of a good Minor League hat. 

Is it me or does that little guy look more cute than intimidating? Kind of a little brother 'trying to prove himself' type of look he's got goin' on- maybe it's just the way he's wearing his little red hat. Either way, this Hooks lid is one of my favorites.

*The Corpus Christi Hooks are a Double-A affiliate of the Houston Astros.

(In case you missed it, check out SMALLS TALK: Minor League hats are the way to go)

Previous Hats of the Week
Montgomery Biscuits

MLU's HAT OF THE WEEK: Montgomery Biscuits

Looking for a fresh new look? Introducing MLU's Hat of the Week. Every Sunday we will showcase a favorite lid from the Major League, Minor League, or College ranks. These are personal favorites, sure to catch the attention of any baseball fan or female observer.


I cannot look at this hat without smiling. The Montgomery Biscuits alternate hat is hilarious, take a peek: it's literally a biscuit- buttered in the middle, of course- with eyeballs, big white gloves, and a pair of spikes. Come on, that's classic.

The logo is fun and I like the navy and yellow combo: eye-catching, but in a subtle way. Most importantly, this hat is a conversation-starting machine. Who is going to see this hat and not 1) chuckle, and 2) ask what team it is? Better yet, anyone who knows what hat you're wearing, regardless of whether you know the person or not, is gonna greet you with a "Montgomery Biscuits!" and a high-five. It simply can't miss.

*The Montgomery Biscuits are a Double-A affiliate of the Tampa Bay Rays.

(In case you missed it, check out SMALLS TALK: Minor League hats are the way to go)

MiLB LIFE: A Taste of the Minor League Off-Season

What other job requires you to work every day for seven months and then gives you a five month vacation? It's wild. The season is a grind, it wears on you, it beats you down, it's repetitive, it's monotonous, it appears endless- and then, well, it ends. And you go home. You have five months to do whatever you want. One hundred and fifty days to yourself. No baseball requirements. No bus rides. Nothing but an empty calendar. So what do you do?

The off-season is a time for bonus babies to relax on beaches for a while before eventually focusing all their time on baseball training and their Big League aspirations. It is also a time for lower draft picks to find a real job and use this reprieve from baseball as a chance to actually make some money so that they can afford to keep chasing their dream. I fall into the second category.

I'm working a desk job this off-season so that when the day comes that I get released- or whenever I retire after my Hall of Fame career- I will have more than my petite signing bonus in the bank and more than baseball statistics on my resumé.