experiment in professional baseball ran its course, and I had shown the whole world that I didn't have what it took, I could go to college and figure out what kind of work I wanted to do for the next forty or fifty years. My plan was just to give baseball a shot for a few years to make sure I wouldn't have any regrets later.
I played in Idaho Falls in the Pioneer League that first season as an eighteen-year-old, and that was a big change. A predominantly Mormon community, Idaho Falls was a long, long way from South Florida. We hardly had any money, so seven or eight of us all lived together in a place that was almost condemned, it was such a dump. It had no heater, no nothing, and if you wanted to use the bathroom, you would have to wait until you went to the ballpark.
A lot of us slept on the floor there, and we took to calling that place the "Animal House." I was making six hundred bucks a month. I'd send some of that back home to my dad, because I had hardly any expenses. I had two pairs of jeans I wore all the time, when I wasn't in uniform, and only paid thirty bucks a month in rent. People in town felt sorry for us, because we were living on so little, and they would give us coupons so we could eat two breakfasts for the price of one and stuff like that.
You could say I was the mascot in the Animal House. I was a scrawny young kid, so a lot of times the other players would pick on me, telling me I was stupid, that I sucked as a baseball player.
That was an old tradition, the older guys hazing the younger guys, picking on them and running them down. You expected it as the natural order of things, but still, as a skinny eighteen-year-old kid, I got picked on more than anyone. They would just throw me around from one to the other and ridicule me all the time. "What are you thinking?" they would all yell at me. "You're never going to make it to the major leagues!"
We had some fun times there. One player I knew there, a heavy-set guy named Greg Robles, was probably the funniest person I've ever met. He never made it to the major leagues, but a couple years later he did hit three home runs in one game, playing minor-league ball in Madison, Wisconsin. He was definitely the funniest guy in baseball. He had these dumb magic tricks that he would do, and those always busted everyone up. You have to see it for yourself, but to give you an idea, we would be having a family party, with kids and everything, and Robles would set up a whole gag involving a slice of pizza.
"I'm going to eat a slice of pizza now," he would tell everyone.
He would eat it, and then drop his pants and bend over-and a slice of pizza would fall out of his ass. It would hit the floor-whap!-and no one could believe their eyes. He'd set it up before-hand, of course, wedging it between his ass cheeks, but even if you knew that, it was still funny. I know it's pretty revolting, but I've got to admit, it still makes me laugh, thinking about that crazy guy.
Idaho Falls made a big impression on me, and not because of anything having to do with baseball, either. That was the first time I ever drank liquor. Back home in Miami, I had tried beer and wine, but I was not a big drinker at all. I'd never touched the hard stuff. So one night at the Animal House, there was a bunch of guys and girls drinking and they invited me to take part and join them. I didn't realize until later that the reason they had invited me was so they could get me drunk and laugh about it when I made a fool out of myself. I was young and innocent. It sounds funny now, but it's true.
Like any kid, inexperienced and shy, I was just trying to be part of the crowd, so I started drinking and trying to keep up with them. The thing was, they gave me this bottle that was just nasty.
I think it was something like 120 proof. At the time, I had no idea what I was drinking. I just drank-and then I noticed that everyone around me couldn't stop laughing. "Come on, drink another!" one of them would say.
I played in Idaho Falls in the Pioneer League that first season as an eighteen-year-old, and that was a big change. A predominantly Mormon community, Idaho Falls was a long, long way from South Florida. We hardly had any money, so seven or eight of us all lived together in a place that was almost condemned, it was such a dump. It had no heater, no nothing, and if you wanted to use the bathroom, you would have to wait until you went to the ballpark.
A lot of us slept on the floor there, and we took to calling that place the "Animal House." I was making six hundred bucks a month. I'd send some of that back home to my dad, because I had hardly any expenses. I had two pairs of jeans I wore all the time, when I wasn't in uniform, and only paid thirty bucks a month in rent. People in town felt sorry for us, because we were living on so little, and they would give us coupons so we could eat two breakfasts for the price of one and stuff like that.
You could say I was the mascot in the Animal House. I was a scrawny young kid, so a lot of times the other players would pick on me, telling me I was stupid, that I sucked as a baseball player.
That was an old tradition, the older guys hazing the younger guys, picking on them and running them down. You expected it as the natural order of things, but still, as a skinny eighteen-year-old kid, I got picked on more than anyone. They would just throw me around from one to the other and ridicule me all the time. "What are you thinking?" they would all yell at me. "You're never going to make it to the major leagues!"
We had some fun times there. One player I knew there, a heavy-set guy named Greg Robles, was probably the funniest person I've ever met. He never made it to the major leagues, but a couple years later he did hit three home runs in one game, playing minor-league ball in Madison, Wisconsin. He was definitely the funniest guy in baseball. He had these dumb magic tricks that he would do, and those always busted everyone up. You have to see it for yourself, but to give you an idea, we would be having a family party, with kids and everything, and Robles would set up a whole gag involving a slice of pizza.
"I'm going to eat a slice of pizza now," he would tell everyone.
He would eat it, and then drop his pants and bend over-and a slice of pizza would fall out of his ass. It would hit the floor-whap!-and no one could believe their eyes. He'd set it up before-hand, of course, wedging it between his ass cheeks, but even if you knew that, it was still funny. I know it's pretty revolting, but I've got to admit, it still makes me laugh, thinking about that crazy guy.
Idaho Falls made a big impression on me, and not because of anything having to do with baseball, either. That was the first time I ever drank liquor. Back home in Miami, I had tried beer and wine, but I was not a big drinker at all. I'd never touched the hard stuff. So one night at the Animal House, there was a bunch of guys and girls drinking and they invited me to take part and join them. I didn't realize until later that the reason they had invited me was so they could get me drunk and laugh about it when I made a fool out of myself. I was young and innocent. It sounds funny now, but it's true.
Like any kid, inexperienced and shy, I was just trying to be part of the crowd, so I started drinking and trying to keep up with them. The thing was, they gave me this bottle that was just nasty.
I think it was something like 120 proof. At the time, I had no idea what I was drinking. I just drank-and then I noticed that everyone around me couldn't stop laughing. "Come on, drink another!" one of them would say.