Tigers#1
05-22-2002, 04:34 PM
The call came late Thursday night.
Lee Gardner, a reliever for the Durham Bulls of the International League, was called out of his hotel room in Rochester, N.Y., by manager Bill Evers and pitching coach Joe Coleman, the former Detroit Tiger.
"They called me out and started talking to me about how I pitched to a batter," he said. "They started asking if I was afraid of him, saying I was pitching like a wuss."
This did not sit well.
"I figured that if they wanted to yell at me, they should do it at the park, not in the hall," Gardner said. "Then (Evers) noticed I was taking it to heart and he said, 'I'm joking. You're going to the big leagues.'"
With that, Lee Gardner, a self-described "washed-up former shortstop" who became a pitcher in college, who had endured most of two years away from the game due to arm injuries, had completed a long-shot journey from minor-league free agent to the major leagues.
"It's awesome," Gardner said Tuesday by cellphone from Seattle, where his Tampa Bay Devil Rays were in town for the first of a two-game series. "I can't even think about how to explain how I feel, but it's not as much a shock as it was the other night."
There were some adjustments to make, beginning with signing another contract. Gardner had never been on the Devil Ray's 40-man roster, so he had to sign a major-league contract for the league minimum of over $200,000.
Quite a jump for a guy who worked construction in the winter and spring, taking odd jobs during the hours he wasn't working in spring training.
"I just looked at the number, and they asked me if there was something wrong," Gardner said. "I knew what major-leaguers got, but it was different when I had to sign my name after it."
There were other adjustments, too.
"I got into a fight with the clubbie," he said of a clubhouse attendant in Baltimore. "I grabbed a chicken breast and was all set to eat and he took it away. I said, 'Get your own,' and he said no, he wanted to know how I wanted it prepared.
"The major difference is the upgrade on everything. Everywhere you turn around, people are handing you things. There are a lot of things I've always done I don't have to do now. For instance, I don't carry luggage now. If you're caught carrying your luggage, it's a fine in their kangaroo court, and it's not a little fine anymore.
"When you get on a plane, you don't have to go through (security). You just ride out onto the tarmac and jump onto the plane."
Gardner's wife, Leslie, whom he married last fall, and his parents, Terry and Dana, made the trip to Baltimore last weekend, and they weren't far from Lee's mind, either.
"The first day, I was sitting in the dugout at Camden Yards," he said. "I'd never been there, even as a spectator. Looking out, I couldn't even imagine what my dad would feel looking at me in the bullpen. It's just crazy, to think you can have that many seats (nearly 50,000) for baseball."
Gardner's cellphone has been busy, too, logging dozens of messages from well-wishers.
"I'm starting to wonder where they're getting the number from," he said. "I've heard from people I haven't heard from in years. But it's great to hear from them."
At the core, though, is his family.
"My family is huge," he said. "Everyone has always stood by me, and it's nice to give them something. My parents are just as proud as I am that I'm here. I had a couple of aunts and uncles who were on the brink of crying when they heard the news, and it's nice to give back to them, too."
But for Gardner, getting to The Show is one thing. Staying is the next goal.
"I was lucky to make a quick path (to the majors)," Gardner said. "Four years is good for not being a bonus baby. Now it's time to stay here."
Gardner walked into a clubhouse with several familiar faces, guys he played with along the way in Charleston, S.C., Orlando, Fla., and Durham.
"It's nice to be able to turn and ask what to do in certain situations," he said. "Everyone is happy to oblige and help."
Gardner will pitch middle relief for now, the role he had at Durham last year. He intends to follow the philosophy that got him to the majors.
"If I put up the numbers, I'm not giving them a reason to get rid of me," he said. "I have to make them make the decision."
Gardner is believed to be the second Livingston County ballplayer to make the major leagues, after Hall-of-Famer Charlie Gehringer, a Fowlerville native.
"Son of a gun," Gardner said, impressed. "I did not know that. Hopefully I can follow in his footsteps."
Right now, a nice long stay in the majors would be just fine.
Tampa Bay has struggled since its first day in the American League, and with struggle comes opportunity.
Free agents have to put up the numbers year after year, day after day, and are usually passed over in favor of draftees until or unless they can't be ignored any more.
That's what Gardner did. His 12 saves in 19 games at Durham were too gaudy to ignore, and a string of failures by relievers at the major-league level finally created an opportunity.
Dreams do come true sometimes, even in professional sports, and Lee Gardner's came true last weekend.
It came true after he switched from shortstop to full-time pitcher in college at Ferris State and Central Michigan, through two arm surgeries, through four years in the minors and winters spent working on construction jobs to keep the money coming in and to stay in shape.
This week, Gardner will almost certainly appear in a box score for the first time, taking the first step toward a new dream -- becoming an established major-league pitcher.
Lee Gardner isn't what you'd call an imposing physical specimen. He's small by most standards, especially in height at 6-0, considered small these days. But his will, his common sense, and his ability to seize whatever opportunity he was given helped lifted him to baseball's top level.
His advice is basic for kids in Hartland, or anywhere else in Livingston County who want to follow in his footsteps, is simple.
"I just say, 'Don't give up,'" he said. "When the road ends, don't be afraid to take a right or left turn. Just keep trying. I was a washed-up shortstop about to turn in his cleats, and look at this now. If you've got the drive, put your head to it and hopefully it will all work out. Don't give them a reason to say no."
Lee Gardner, a reliever for the Durham Bulls of the International League, was called out of his hotel room in Rochester, N.Y., by manager Bill Evers and pitching coach Joe Coleman, the former Detroit Tiger.
"They called me out and started talking to me about how I pitched to a batter," he said. "They started asking if I was afraid of him, saying I was pitching like a wuss."
This did not sit well.
"I figured that if they wanted to yell at me, they should do it at the park, not in the hall," Gardner said. "Then (Evers) noticed I was taking it to heart and he said, 'I'm joking. You're going to the big leagues.'"
With that, Lee Gardner, a self-described "washed-up former shortstop" who became a pitcher in college, who had endured most of two years away from the game due to arm injuries, had completed a long-shot journey from minor-league free agent to the major leagues.
"It's awesome," Gardner said Tuesday by cellphone from Seattle, where his Tampa Bay Devil Rays were in town for the first of a two-game series. "I can't even think about how to explain how I feel, but it's not as much a shock as it was the other night."
There were some adjustments to make, beginning with signing another contract. Gardner had never been on the Devil Ray's 40-man roster, so he had to sign a major-league contract for the league minimum of over $200,000.
Quite a jump for a guy who worked construction in the winter and spring, taking odd jobs during the hours he wasn't working in spring training.
"I just looked at the number, and they asked me if there was something wrong," Gardner said. "I knew what major-leaguers got, but it was different when I had to sign my name after it."
There were other adjustments, too.
"I got into a fight with the clubbie," he said of a clubhouse attendant in Baltimore. "I grabbed a chicken breast and was all set to eat and he took it away. I said, 'Get your own,' and he said no, he wanted to know how I wanted it prepared.
"The major difference is the upgrade on everything. Everywhere you turn around, people are handing you things. There are a lot of things I've always done I don't have to do now. For instance, I don't carry luggage now. If you're caught carrying your luggage, it's a fine in their kangaroo court, and it's not a little fine anymore.
"When you get on a plane, you don't have to go through (security). You just ride out onto the tarmac and jump onto the plane."
Gardner's wife, Leslie, whom he married last fall, and his parents, Terry and Dana, made the trip to Baltimore last weekend, and they weren't far from Lee's mind, either.
"The first day, I was sitting in the dugout at Camden Yards," he said. "I'd never been there, even as a spectator. Looking out, I couldn't even imagine what my dad would feel looking at me in the bullpen. It's just crazy, to think you can have that many seats (nearly 50,000) for baseball."
Gardner's cellphone has been busy, too, logging dozens of messages from well-wishers.
"I'm starting to wonder where they're getting the number from," he said. "I've heard from people I haven't heard from in years. But it's great to hear from them."
At the core, though, is his family.
"My family is huge," he said. "Everyone has always stood by me, and it's nice to give them something. My parents are just as proud as I am that I'm here. I had a couple of aunts and uncles who were on the brink of crying when they heard the news, and it's nice to give back to them, too."
But for Gardner, getting to The Show is one thing. Staying is the next goal.
"I was lucky to make a quick path (to the majors)," Gardner said. "Four years is good for not being a bonus baby. Now it's time to stay here."
Gardner walked into a clubhouse with several familiar faces, guys he played with along the way in Charleston, S.C., Orlando, Fla., and Durham.
"It's nice to be able to turn and ask what to do in certain situations," he said. "Everyone is happy to oblige and help."
Gardner will pitch middle relief for now, the role he had at Durham last year. He intends to follow the philosophy that got him to the majors.
"If I put up the numbers, I'm not giving them a reason to get rid of me," he said. "I have to make them make the decision."
Gardner is believed to be the second Livingston County ballplayer to make the major leagues, after Hall-of-Famer Charlie Gehringer, a Fowlerville native.
"Son of a gun," Gardner said, impressed. "I did not know that. Hopefully I can follow in his footsteps."
Right now, a nice long stay in the majors would be just fine.
Tampa Bay has struggled since its first day in the American League, and with struggle comes opportunity.
Free agents have to put up the numbers year after year, day after day, and are usually passed over in favor of draftees until or unless they can't be ignored any more.
That's what Gardner did. His 12 saves in 19 games at Durham were too gaudy to ignore, and a string of failures by relievers at the major-league level finally created an opportunity.
Dreams do come true sometimes, even in professional sports, and Lee Gardner's came true last weekend.
It came true after he switched from shortstop to full-time pitcher in college at Ferris State and Central Michigan, through two arm surgeries, through four years in the minors and winters spent working on construction jobs to keep the money coming in and to stay in shape.
This week, Gardner will almost certainly appear in a box score for the first time, taking the first step toward a new dream -- becoming an established major-league pitcher.
Lee Gardner isn't what you'd call an imposing physical specimen. He's small by most standards, especially in height at 6-0, considered small these days. But his will, his common sense, and his ability to seize whatever opportunity he was given helped lifted him to baseball's top level.
His advice is basic for kids in Hartland, or anywhere else in Livingston County who want to follow in his footsteps, is simple.
"I just say, 'Don't give up,'" he said. "When the road ends, don't be afraid to take a right or left turn. Just keep trying. I was a washed-up shortstop about to turn in his cleats, and look at this now. If you've got the drive, put your head to it and hopefully it will all work out. Don't give them a reason to say no."