If a season-ticket holder like Goebel doesn’t, chances are you won’t, either. Most Yankee campers, like their counterparts in every other spring-training facility, are former minor-leaguers, guys who couldn’t make it out of double-A ball and left the game years ago. In the pinstripes made famous by Gehrig and Ruth, they jog past a centerfield billboard advertising Mickey Mantle’s Week of Dreams Baseball Fantasy Camp. If they note the irony, they don’t mention it. Buck Showalter doesn’t think he’s guilty of feeding fantasies. “For some,” says 1994’s American League Manager of the Year, “the dream was to put on the uniform and go out on the field.”
Pat Russo hopes for a bit more. He pitched for two minor-league seasons with the Minnesota Twins organization, and one in Venezuela. In 1993, he had an unsuccessful tryout with the Mets. Now 27 and a kids’ baseball instructor in Tampa, Fla., Russo promised his wife “to move on with my life.” When the strike opened a door, he couldn’t resist walking in. “All I’m doing is trying to impress them,” he says. “I can still get people out.” Other players simply welcome the $5,000 signing bonus and the possibility, however remote, of collecting a $115,000 salary as substitute big-leaguers. “I make $23,000 a year, plus commissions,” says catcher Juan Velazquez, who left the pros in 1984 and works for a business systems company. “If I get an offer to make $628 a day, it’s a no-brainer.”
The Yankee hopefuls appear to be in good shape, low on lard. “Don’t underestimate these guys,” says Daryl Smith, 34, a onetime minor-league pitcher. “Don’t underestimate me. I still throw in the low 90s.” Yankee owner George Steinbrenner is a believer. “I’m not ready to make a quick judgment,” he says. “But we may have real stars, surprises.”
One surprise would be a labor settlement. With opening day barely more than a month away, negotiations are stalled and legislation that would limit baseball’s antitrust exemption probably has little chance of passing. “Everybody wants to see the strike ended,” says Keith Seiler, a Yankees minor-league pitcher since 1990 and quick to say that he’s not a replacement player. His eyes narrow. “Well, maybe some guys wouldn’t.”
Up in the grandstand, Goebel misses the big-leaguers. “This,” she says, looking out at the Ft. Lauderdale grass, “is, like, entertainment.” And like, unfortunately, is the key word.
