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Rays

A son keeps vigil, a team feels his pain

By GARY SHELTON
Published February 24, 2005

ST. PETERSBURG - The tempo. Lou would have loved the tempo.

The players moved crisply through their drills, the sweat coming easily in the heat of the late-morning sun. There was no waste, no wandering. Just a team clipping through its first steps toward a season.

The scene. Lou would have loved the scene, too.

Baseball was open for business again. The energy was high, the chatter was loud and the optimism wasn't nearly as difficult to find as you might think. The crowd was, well, in the dozens. It was a nice morning, in other words, and a lot of fans seemed to grin through it.

The moment. Lou would have eaten up the moment.

He has been through a lot of these, but the feeling never fades for a baseball manager. The first day of full squad workouts is the opening of a door, and nothing is behind it but hope. It is the first day of the new planting, and old problems look like new canvas and fresh paint.

Lou would have loved Wednesday, all of it. The smells and the sounds and the sensations, the players and the practice and the promise. Who knows? Maybe Piniella would have gotten caught up in the moment and predicted 75 victories or fourth place.

On the first real day of the regathering of the Rays, however, Piniella was missing. Now and then, you might swear you heard his voice. Here and there, you might think you saw his shadow. From time to time, you could not help but feel the void.

"It felt a little strange," said bench coach John McLaren, who ran drills in Piniella's absence. "It felt a little lonely out there. I thought about Lou a lot."

These are difficult times for Piniella. The lingering heart problems of his father, Louis, 86, forced Piniella to miss his fourth day of spring training. In his absence, you could not help but share his pain.

He is one of us. He grew up here, and after finding success, he came back. He is the favorite face of a franchise, a man whose reputation remains clean on a team where little else is without tarnish.

Here is the odd thing. There is a growing impression that when Piniella returned to Tampa Bay, he made a mistake. He had won a lot before coming back, and he has lost a lot since, and there are nights the wear shows. Late last season, he looked like a man who had been whacked around pretty good by losing, and it was easy to wonder if he ever had second thoughts about coming home.

If you believe in such things, however, perhaps this is where Piniella was meant to be. Perhaps his dad's illness is why he came home. If you have suffered through a family illness, and most of us have, you know nothing increases that feeling of helplessness like distance. That's why the West Tampa native came home.

For the Piniellas, Tampa Bay has been home for a very long time. In his book, Sweet Lou, Piniella tells the story of being a young batboy for a team where his father pitched, where one uncle played first base and another played third. He talks about the time his father got into an argument with the umpire over the strike zone, an argument that culminated when his father, then his uncles, stormed from the field.

Another time, Piniella talks of his father getting into an argument with his catcher over the signs. That discussion ended with Louis decking his teammate on the field. "And you think I have a temper," wrote Piniella.

If Piniella inherited some fire from his father (and, he has said, his mother), then perhaps he is becoming more mellow for the same reason. The Rays coaches who have met the elder Piniella describe him as a quiet man.

"He's one of those grand gentlemen," hitting coach Lee Elia said. "He was always active in the community. He's very proud. He's not very vocal, but he's very proud."

If you have sat on the outside of a hospital room, hoping for good news and bracing for bad, you know how valuable old memories can be in times of crisis. Family members relive the old stories, and they rekindle the old feelings. Sometimes, nostalgia is the only comfort we can find.

For Piniella, there is also this: His ballclub looked pretty good Wednesday.

"Lou has such a presence," general manager Chuck LaMar said. "We talked (Wednesday) morning, and I told him everything has gone well, but I would be lying if I said we didn't miss him. A void? Absolutely."

Soon, Piniella will return to the field to see how Robbie Alomar looks in green. He will want to hear how the bat cracks when Delmon Young swings. He will want to see how comfortable Alex Gonzalez looks at third base. He will want the promise of his young arms to start to deliver.

Soon, the face of the Rays will be back in the place of the Rays.

With a little bit of luck, he'll bring his dad with him.

[Last modified February 24, 2005, 04:24:32]