Rays/MLB

A little luck, a lot of guts

Fate sparked Kenny Rogers' career. His leadership sparked the Tigers.

By MARC TOPKIN
Published October 20, 2006

DETROIT - So much of what Kenny Rogers has done this year was unexpected.

The way, in his first season in Detroit, he became the respected leader of the game's top young pitching staff. The way he navigated the bumps of his unlikely career path - including the now-famous one he gave a cameraman in Texas last year - to become an immense fan favorite.

The way at age 41 he has pitched so emotionally and intensely to reverse his past postseason failures, throwing two sparkling gems and not allowing a run in 15 innings. The way he emerged as one of the most compelling stories of the Tigers' improbable run to the World Series.

But the biggest surprise is not that Rogers has gotten this far; it's that he ever got started.

"It really is something," his father, Ed, said. "If you stop and think about it, it really is."

All it took to get Rogers from the strawberry fields of Hillsborough County to major-league stardom was amazing coincidence, stunning circumstance, a remarkable leap of faith and a ton of hard work.

"I'm very, very lucky," Rogers said. "Nobody would believe it pretty much if you told them from start to finish how things have transpired. But that's what makes it such a good story for me. You take one little component out of it and I never get here in the first place."

Kenny got into baseball, like so many others, because his father was. But Ed was an Air Force man, so Kenny's chances to play depended on where he, his parents and four brothers were living and how often they moved, going from Savannah, Ga., to outside Sacramento, Calif., to England, to Spokane, Wash., and eventually back to Ed's Dover hometown in eastern Hillsborough.

Kenny was a good enough athlete - playing quarterback and receiver for the Dover Cowboys youth league football team, setting a jump rope record in school and occasionally getting on the mound as a 12- and 13-year-old when he wasn't playing shortstop left-handed though he never learned how to pitch.

That didn't hurt his confidence though - when he was 12, he signed a ball to mom Carol's former boss like this: Mrs. Archer - from a future major-leaguer Kenny Rogers.

Right place, right time

He was too busy helping in the family strawberry-farming business to play baseball for Plant City High until his senior season. And when he did go out, he was a 135-pound, 5-foot-9 rightfielder with a .375 batting average and an arm too strong and wild for coach Charles Perdomo to even let him throw much batting practice.

And it couldn't have worked out better.

The late Joe Marchese, then a Rangers scout, was at a 1982 Plant City-Robinson game to watch a speedy Knights player named Stan Boderick (who ended up a first-round pick of the Cubs but didn't make it out of the low minors). The details of that day have become a bit fuzzy, if not made-for-TV-movie embellished. But the gist was this: Rogers made some impressive throws from rightfield, and Marchese was intrigued enough to want to see more.

"Kenny was just in the right place at the right time," Carol said.

Marchese dragged Rangers farm director Joe Klein to the Raiders' next game. They sat behind the outfield fence to watch Rogers warm up and saw enough arm strength to imagine him as a pitcher.

A 39th-round pick and a $500 bonus later, Rogers' presented another challenge - they had to teach him how to pitch: windup, delivery, mechanics, the whole program.

Rogers spent seven years in the minors, overcame 1987 elbow surgery and made it to the majors in 1989 as a middle reliever. Eighteen seasons, 207 wins and about $66-million in salary later, his tale has become one of legend - and scouting lore.

"It's a phenomenal story," Tigers general manager Dave Dombrowski said. "It's probably the epitome of scouting."

Leading by example

Nearly 25 years later, the Tigers couldn't be more pleased that it worked out this way.

Rogers, despite the controversy in Texas (for which he was suspended 20 games, fined $50,000, went to anger-management counseling and made an out-of-court settlement), has been a tremendously positive influence in their clubhouse since unexpectedly getting a two-year, $16-million offer.

"He doesn't have to have a meeting or anything or get pompoms out. He just goes out and pitches his tail off, and that's pretty much the way you lead by example," closer Todd Jones said.

"He's been great for the young guys on the staff. He's worth every penny the Tigers paid him because we wouldn't be here without him."

Manager Jim Leyland has been surprised by Rogers' humor and personality, describing him as "a little bit of a tough, Central Florida kid. Growing up, I'm sure he had a pickup truck at some point."

Dombrowski was amazed at how quickly Rogers became the father figure to the young staff, taking them to lunch and dinner and sitting to talk pitching.

Pitching coach Chuck Hernandez marvels at the love affair that has developed between Rogers and the fans, the result of - or perhaps the reason for - his postseason success. Teammates rave about his focus and determination to prove people wrong.

"He's pitching against doubt," rookie Justin Verlander said.

Opponents and observers have marveled at his increased velocity and intensity.

"Kenny Rogers is possessed," Arizona outfielder/Fox analyst Eric Byrnes said. "I am dead serious. This guy, I felt like he was going to jump through that camera and come out and get me. This is poltergeist stuff. This guy is at a whole different level now."

Carol and Ed say they are not surprised their son has done so well, the Texas incident was uncharacteristic and the man people see when the Series starts Saturday is the real one.

"Kenny is a good, Christian boy," Carol said. "He can have a temper, but he is also very loyal and very supportive. I don't know if I can say enough good about him."

But what if it hadn't worked out the way it did? If Plant City hadn't played Robinson that day? If Marchese hadn't believed in him? If Klein wasn't open-minded? If Tom Grieve and Dick Egan and other minor-league coaches weren't patient?

"I don't know," Rogers said. "I was so young. I was 17 when all of it started. I really didn't plan out my life as far as what I wanted to do. I really can't say exactly where I would be or what I would be doing. But I know it wouldn't be anywhere close to a big-league ballpark."

Marc Topkin can be reached at topkin@sptimes.com or (727) 893- 8801.

[Last modified October 20, 2006, 02:09:42]