Spring Training memories from 45 years of Expos/Jays camps

Personal journeys from Florida adventures that still make me smile

For baseball fans, spring training remains the greatest time of year, marking a new beginning and new hope with your team remaining forever tied for first. And for those lucky enough to be working in coverage at spring training in Florida or Arizona as northern winters lurch towards the start of spring, then summer, the pre-season experience in the sun creates memories that will last a lifetime.

This is now the second year in a row that I have remained at home during the baseball spring, following 45 years of being assigned in various capacities -- 17 Florida Grapefruit League seasons in PR with the Expos, 24 more with the Toronto Star writing columns and four more back in media relations with the Blue Jays.

So, with new time on my hands and spring games finally underway this weekend, I went back through the mental rolodex to find a dozen special moments in time that still make me smile. There were more.

No. 1-My second spring in Daytona Beach with Expos’ PR, there arrived a carload of Red Sox media that drove over from Winter Haven having requested what became an infamous interview with the newest Expos, Bill Lee. The Spaceman had fallen out of favour in Boston and was dealt at the ’78 Winter Meetings for a utility infielder named Stan Papi. Setting up the conversation behind the media trailer at City Island Park, I backed away from the scrum and observed from a distance as Lee led the enthralled group down the famous marijuana/pancakes path. When it was over, I asked Space how it went and he was literally shaken. Bill’s strength -- and his weakness -- is that when he finds that people are taking the bait and buying into his unique storylines, his eyes light up and he can’t stop himself piling on with embellishments and enhancements. I learned my lesson that day. Spaceman didn’t. He was fined by the commissioner and went on to record a couple of great seasons in Montreal

No. 2-It was a meaningless exhibition game vs. the Astros at Cocoa Beach and Joe Niekro had just been called for an inexplicable balk that became clearer as the back door of the press box opened and the platinum-blonde exotic dancer Babette Bardot strolled in. It seems the rickety old Cocoa ballpark had a swaying wooden ramp from the back of the stands to the press box that happened to be in direct line with Niekro’s vision as he came set. He became distracted. Babette, a proud Montreal native, had been invited to visit her favourite Expos beat writer in his working area and her micro skirt and strong aura, were clearly visible from where Niekro stood, distracting the Astros knuckleballer into a feinte illegale.

No. 3-Young fans won’t be aware, but there was a time back in the day when the east coast interstate I-95, a main north-south artery for the country was not completed in Florida all the way from Daytona Beach to Fort Pierce…and, of course, there was no GPS. Driving to all road games, I had become lost on my first ever trip to Dodgertown in Vero Beach, arriving at just around game time. The following day on another road trip, driving back from West Palm following a game vs. the Braves, the night was pitch-black with no RR lights and I admit I was lost. But I badly needed roadside relief. As I finished taking care of that business on the side of that deserted rural route, I looked up at a sign that read “Welcome to Dodgertown.” D’ohh!

No. 4-First spring in Daytona, a bar called Big Daddy’s on the Beach with my friend, Mike Griffin, then with the NHL, now with North Bay Battalion. Parking for the bar was on the sand where the first stock car races famously took place. In leaving Big Daddy’s around 2 am, I tried to impress a couple of new friends who needed a ride, flipping my car keys over my shoulder and catching them behind my back. Only thing was that I missed and the keys became lost in the soft Daytona sand. The next morning when I arrived with new keys, the tide had come in as tides tend to do and the rental car was up to the windows in sand. Had to be dragged out of its wet and sandy home. Avis was not amused.    

No. 5-Back in technology’s Stone Age, sports reporters were issued clunky computers that could only transmit when attached with rubber cups to a standard landline. In 1980, the Expos had played the Phillies at Jack Russell Stadium. The great Serge Touchette, a Jack Graney Award winner, had not yet finished writing as security pushed us out to the lot and chained the gates. I was Serge’s ride back to Daytona. His deadline was approaching, so we stopped at a random motel on the Courtney Campbell Causeway looking for access to a normal phone. I innocently asked if me and my friend could rent a room for a couple of hours. The clerk looked around nervously and informed us that, despite an empty parking lot, they were totally booked. My response? “It’s just a couple of hours. We won’t even use the bed.” Forced to find a Plan B.

No. 6-Just prior to the opening of camp in 1984, the Expos had signed free agent Pete Rose. Charlie Hustle was approaching important milestones and was a huge free agent add in Montreal. Travel guy, Peter Durso scrambled to find Rose a condo at PGA National. It was a terrific spot, but Pete was not happy. It turns out it wasn’t the actual accommodations he had a beef with, but instead he needed a bigger satellite dish to catch those late-night West Coast basketball games. Until much later, I simply believed the hit-king was an insomniac.

No. 7-Returning to West Palm from a day game in Dunedin, driving with Hall-of-Fame broadcaster Dave Van Horne, March 20, 1985, the plan was to listen to the NCAA Championship game on the ride and be home to watch the final few minutes on TV. Great plan. Early in the NCAA final, with no highway lights to guide, we sensed the famous Lake Okechobee to our immediate right. Sleeping highway gators were always a road hazard. Three interminable hours later, the lake, head-scratchingly still was to our immediate right, and then we passed the same gas station for a second time. It had been twice around the big pond for good luck as Villanova pulled off its big upset. That brings another hindsight call for the earlier arrival of GPS.

No. 8-Michigan’s Fab 5 was in the 1992 Final Four in New Orleans. I had been invited to attend and sit in the press box if I could get myself there. Once in a lifetime opportunity to see Chris Webber, Jalen Rose and the quintet that changed basketball. I left camp on Saturday morning flying out of Miami, attended that night’s semi-final doubleheader (with Duke and Michigan advancing), hung out in the French Quarter post-game until my return flight, arriving back just in time to introduce the WPB Mayor at a press conference for a proposed new Expos facility. The mayor thought the media ovation was for her. Still the only March Madness games I have attended.

No. 9-Fond memories of Tom Cheek at spring training. At a time when The Star was still sending two reporters to cover, I always kept my golf clubs in the rental car’s trunk. A couple of times each spring, Tom would catch my attention on his early morning visit to the park, do the familiar hand waggle thing with an invisible club, I would nod to the affirmative, call the sports desk at The Star and head to Fox Hollow. One memorable foursome included me, Cheek, Galen Cisco and J.P. Ricciardi’s dad. Tom paired me with J.P. Sr., who went home and raved to his son what a great guy Griffin was. Cheek always had a sly sense of humour to love. Junior, not so much.

No. 10-Not the greatest Sherlock Holmes moment, but on Feb. 18, 1999, Roger Clemens was traded to the Yankees for David Wells and two players. With Yankee camp just across the causeway in Tampa, The Star asked me and reporter Mark Zwolinski if we could track Wells down that night for an exclusive, before his official presser at the Mattick Complex the next day. We suspected he and his Yankee buddy David Cone might be at the notorious Pink Pony celebrating the reunion. Mark and I parked in the lot of that famous Tampa destination for exotic dancers. I pushed my way in to have a look. The cover charge was $25 that came in the form of a poker chip that could be redeemed for a lap dance. But, no time for frivolity, I was on a mission. After an exhaustive and distracted search came up empty, I determined they were not there. When I flew home at the end of camp, I attached the unused poker chip to my expense report and was duly compensated by the newspaper. Times have changed.

No. 11-For many years, my second home office at spring training was a night club called Razzel’s near the Clearwater hotel that boasted superb WiFi and ice cold $2 Heineken bottles all day. Walking distance from anywhere and everywhere, across the street from the original Hooter’s, Razzel’s featured a Thursday night DJ for hip-hop and classic rock, six semi-flat pool tables, that often devolved into pool-cue swinging territorial fights, that were invariably pushed by bouncers out into the parking lot, and what seemed like nightly police raids. Home away from home. Best description is it was like a live-action Tinder for locals. It is now closed and boarded up. GM Ross Atkins once asked if he could join me there for a beer, but it never happened.

No. 12-Finally, there is a particular mental snapshot that reminds me that all that glitters in the spring is not World Series gold. Early in 2005 camp, watching from the bridge at the Yankees stadium in Tampa, the five bullpen mounds were occupied by the Bombers’ projected five starters – Randy Johnson in his first season in pinstripes, Mike Mussina, Kevin Brown, Carl Pavano and Jaret Wright. Yikes. What a rotation. Predictions were that nobody could beat that team. But the Bombers went on to win six fewer games than they had the year before and quickly bowed out of the post-season in the Division Series vs. the Angels. Lesson? The championship season must be allowed to play itself out before rushing to judgment off of spring training.  

Make no mistake, there are dozens more personal memories that I still look back on fondly, far too many to relate in this space. But with Grapefruit and Cactus Leagues in full swing, the advice is don’t put too much stock in results over the next 30 days. Consider that in the Blue Jays back-to-back World Series winning years, 1992-93, the spring training records were 14-21 and 13-21. What’s important to fans is that spring is officially here and it’s okay to be excited.

Let’s Play Ball!