El Profe: Big Cat Pounces on His Chance
By Adrian Burgos
Certain sights and sounds evoke the coming of spring. The singing of birds in the early morning hours is such a sound for some. The popping of leather gloves as ballplayers play catch after pitchers and catchers report in mid-February is one of those sounds for baseball fans. For me, the distinct click of metal cleats on concrete as a cluster of players heads to the field is that sound. It instantly transports me back to my youth and, more specifically, to visiting spring training camps.
Spring training is a time for new beginnings, making the best of an opportunity or a last chance. Prized free agents ready themselves to demonstrate to all that they were worth the lavish contract. Prospects hope to prove they are ready to make an impact. Veterans on minor league contracts strive to to show that they deserve one more major league look.
Living in Fort Lauderdale, we were fortunate — it was the Yankees’ spring training home in those days — and we were doubly fortunate that everyone in my family was a Yankees fan.
But this is not a relocated Bronx tale. Rather, this is about West Palm Beach, where we would visit the camp of the Montreal Expos and the Atlanta Braves. And it’s about taking note of unknown prospects as they commence their journey, one that would fulfill everyone’s expectations as they became stars.
They Walk Among Us
Several key things distinguished Fort Lauderdale Stadium and West Palm Municipal Stadium, which the Expos and Braves then shared as a spring training facility. Fort Lauderdale Stadium had a main ballfield where fans could watch the Bronx Bombers go through their drills or attend exhibition games. That complex also had several additional ballfields where players took batting and fielding practice under the close supervision of coaches. However, that area was restricted; fans did not have access.
The West Palm Beach complex was quite different — it had many more ballfields to host the 40-plus players that the Braves and Expos each typically had at the start of spring training. More importantly, for fans, the layout of the complex provided access to the back fields where the players conducted their practices
The layout at West Palm meant that the likes of Braves all-stars Dale Murphy, Pascual Pérez and Rafael Ramírez, as well as Expos greats Gary Carter, Tim Raines and Andre Dawson literally walked among us as they moved from the main field to the practice fields. It is the sound of legends walking in their cleats along these paths that is so ingrained in my memory.
Pouncing on His Chance
Trips to West Palm were special because of the different way we got to interact with Atlanta and Montreal players. Someone like Dale Murphy would chat with fans as he walked to the backfields to take fielding practice. The willingness of the Braves’ star center fielder to indulge fans’ request for autographs or just to talk with us made Murphy a fan favorite in the 1980s.
It was rare back then to hear much Spanish being spoken at the Braves’ camp — it’s much different these days. The Braves did have a couple of Dominicans in Ramírez and Pérez, valuable contributors to the Atlanta squads of the 1980s. They were the first fruits of the Braves’ scouting efforts in the Dominican Republic. One of many shortstops to hail from San Pedro de Macorís, Ramírez was a .261 lifetime hitter over a 13-year career in which he made one National League All-Star team; the always entertaining Pérez also earned an all-star appearance (1983) and had two seasons of note with the Braves, leading the team in wins.
The Expos had even fewer prominent Latino stars at that point. That changed in 1986, as Andrés Galarraga made his breakthrough, soon going from a hot prospect to a five-time all-star who batted .288 lifetime with 399 home runs and 2,333 career hits over a 19-year career.
Watching the Venezuelan transform into “Big Cat” and become the Expos’ first homegrown Latino star was inspiring for me as a young Latino kid playing high school baseball in south Florida. Here was a star Latino ballplayer who — according to my high school teammates — looked like me. A few teammates even jokingly started calling me Andrés instead of Adrian.
Galarraga, with his emergence as a slugger with smooth fielding skills, provided a guiding star. What also captivated me was his smile and his banter when holding a runner on first base; his joy playing baseball was on display for all to see.
Indeed, Big Cat Galarraga captured the imagination of many young Latinos. He was the first Venezuelan prospect I got to watch flourish into a star before my eyes, from an unknown minor leaguer sporting a high uniform number at the start of spring training camp to a big-league regular walking along the paths that led to the backfields, the sound of his metal cleats striking the ground.
Featured Image: Focus on Sport