The Diary of Jerry Leahy

5/1/09 – Sometimes seeing things from the other-side can be a real eye opener.  Growing up in Dawson, I had never envisioned playing baseball in the United States.  People where I come from have a tendency to cement themselves forever in the small communities from which they came.  Most of us after high school start working with our parents or elders of the town to continue the traditions established well before our time.  There is no change or evolution.  My short time here in the States has been nothing less than reciprocity.

With new ownership embarking on the Statesmen this season, I’ve undergone perhaps the biggest challenge I’ll face in my endeavored career.  They seem to think I’ve got the build to be a candidate every 5^th day in the PEBA.  While I won’t lie to you – 6’6” was extraordinary in Peace River County – I find myself among giants such as myself everyday.  So I may never understand the motive, because the non-fit giant I was in British Columbia feels right at home.

Andy has told me time and time again, the transition from a reliever to a starter is a tough one and widely considered unorthodox at this stage in a career; yet inside it’s a hurdle I’m eager to jump.  Hank has really been working with me to develop my sinker, what I consider my best pitch.  He’s trying to slow it down, and it’s perhaps the most difficult component of my transition.  I only throw three pitches because, well, I suppose it has been enough to get me where I am anyway.  Projected early as a back-end bullpen guy, mixing them was all I would need to succeed.  Hank has stressed daily that if I’m unable to throw an off-speed pitch, my sinker would have to be the closest thing to it.

It all started with the invitation to Spring Training with the Statesmen.  I didn’t pitch much, and when I did I didn’t have much success, and I started to wonder if I was really competing for a job anyway.  Of my four teammates to join me, I certainly thought I had the least experience.  Regardless, I was throwing a side session alongside Jake, with Dustin Young, who had some incredible insight on the art of pitching, over-seeing.  I’m not sure if he saw something in me, but he looked up at me and asked if anybody in the organization had ever considered me for a starting slot.  I told him, “They’ve actually discouraged it.”  After about 8-10 horrid appearances, the red card sent me back to Raleigh.  It would be a couple more days before I saw the rest of the guys, and “Santa” really impressed the big guys up top so I was surprised to see him back at all.  The El Dorados would begin play soon and I would go back to my gun-slinging ways, just like I always used to – another season, another year, and that much closer to suspicion.

That Wednesday the road to Charleston was repaved, and I gassed up and embarked on a brand new journey.  Andy, whose full name I still cannot pronounce correctly, unveiled his rotation for the ’09 campaign.  Whether it was the side-session with Hank, or because I’m the tallest on the club, I was slated to get the ball on Opening Day.  It’s undeniable how excited I was, I mean, it’s every pitcher’s dream to get the ball on Opening Day for your club, and for me, whatever impressions I have made to this point, I humbly admit they have finally paid of.

Opening Day didn’t replicate what I was fantasizing nocturnally.  I was, however, off to an exceptional start before a blister started flaring up.  The grip of my sinker has been dynamic over the past week or so, and my coaches insist this type of injury is normal.  Needless to say, I wanted to eat my cake.  It would be 10 days before I’d take the mound again, this time reaching that pinnacle of 100 pitches thrown.  Hey, a pinnacle for a life-long reliever!

Now, it’s been about a month since that “epiphany”, as I like to call it, enveloped my skipper, and we are playing some pretty good ball.  My transition is going well and my sinker is coming along quite nicely, and a small callous has developed over the blistered areas of old.  Consequently, I now fully understand what it feels like to throw 100 pitches in a game and take back all those things I’ve thought about when my teammates would complain of the fatigue they’d experienced in the past.  As expected, Santiago Gonzáles is really setting the tone for this young season, and I’m sure the powers that be have got their hawk-eyes on him.  Chris Allen, back for yet another year of minor league play, took home the Appalachian Mountain League’s trophy for best player for the month of April.  As I understand it, he won’t be here very long and the big league club is trying to shuffle things up a bit to give him the shot he deserves.

Lastly, I have no idea what sort of benefit gloating in my own diary will grant me, but it’s my diary and I shall do what I like with it.  My K/BB ratio, which apparently is a key indicator for the Statesmen scouts, has increased in my new role, and I have been able to keep runners off base in line with my days of relief.  If they thought highly of me in 1 or 2 innings of work, they certainly can’t argue with 5-6 of the same. Another calendar flip is upon us, bringing days filled with new challenges I will meet with enthusiasm and wisdom.