The Rotation

by Jim Salisbury

“He had a way about him that said, I’ve got this under control,” Arbuckle recalled.

  Less than two years after he had worried about Hamels’ pitching days being over before they really started, Furtak enjoyed every pitch the left-hander threw that season. With each passing start, he saw Hamels’ confidence and competitiveness grow. The kid was healthy—and really good.

  “One time we were playing Torrey Pines,” Furtak said. “Cole had a no-hitter going and a guy tried to bunt on him. He was pissed.”

  Hamels sought retribution. He threw at the code-breaking hitter twice, missing him both times. Hamels looked into the dugout where Furtak motioned for him to calm down. Furtak motioned for a fastball and Hamels blew the hitter away with two of them.

  In another game, Furtak went to the mound and instructed Hamels to walk a batter.

  “Can’t I just hit him?” Hamels asked.

  “Look,” Furtak said. “Walk this guy, throw the next guy three straight curveballs and you’re out of the inning.”

  Bingo, bango, bongo. Hamels was out of the inning.

  The game Furtak remembers most was Hamels’ last one.

  “It was at Montgomery High School,” he said. “Cole seemed a little out of sorts in the bullpen. He was bouncing his curveball ten feet in front of the plate. It was right before the draft and there must have been forty scouts standing there watching him warm up. Every time he bounced a curveball, they’d write something down.”

  In the dugout after warm-ups, Furtak tried to calm Hamels’ nerves.

  “Dude, you’re going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll be awesome.”

  When Hamels took the mound, Furtak instructed the catcher to call a first-pitch curveball.

  “It was a beauty,” Furtak said.

  Hamels gave the scouts plenty to write about that day. He pitched so brilliantly that the opposing coach asked him to sign a ball after the game.

  “That kid is going to be something special,” the coach told Furtak.

  Even as Hamels dazzled during his senior season at Rancho Bernardo, there were skeptics in the scouting community. Conner remembers hearing his brethren from other clubs wonder how Hamels would react once he got to Double-A and was having a bad night, or a bad stretch of games. Was he tough enough to handle that adversity? Was he tough enough to make the climb to the majors?

  Conner had no doubt.

  “For me, coming back from that injury spoke volumes,” Conner said. “He could have went to school and I believe been a success in whatever he did. He could have ridden off into the sunset, but he fought back. The toughness question never crossed my mind. It was never a concern for me.”

  The 2002 draft was a deep one. First-rounders that year included B. J. Upton, Zack Greinke, Prince Fielder, Jeff Francis, Joe Saunders, Khalil Greene, Scott Kazmir, Nick Swisher, Jeff Francoeur, Joe Blanton, and Matt Cain.

  The Phillies had long liked Greinke, a shortstop-pitcher from the Orlando area who went on to win an American League Cy Young Award with Kansas City in 2009. In the spring of 2002, some folks in the Phillies organization favored using the 17th pick on Greinke—if he was still there. Interestingly, the Phillies liked Greinke as an infielder. The team had come to realize that Scott Rolen’s time in Philadelphia was coming to an end and some in the organization leaned toward selecting Greinke and converting him to a third baseman. In the end, it was a moot point. Greinke went off the board at No. 6.

  During the time they spent evaluating Greinke at Apopka High School, Phillies scouts noticed a teammate, a young outfielder named Michael Taylor. The Phils kept an eye on Taylor throughout his college days at Stanford, drafted him in 2007, and ultimately used him as part of the package to get Roy Halladay from Toronto in 2009.

  Wolever never wavered in the spring of 2002. Though he looked at many others, Hamels was the guy he wanted in the first round. But Wolever had to do some convincing before Cole Hamels could be fitted for red pinstripes. Signing bonuses had skyrocketed by 2002 and it would take an investment of at least $2 million to get Hamels out of his commitment to the University of San Diego. The case was turned over to team physician Michael Ciccotti, who was charged with reviewing Hamels’ health history and deciding if he’d be a wise investment.

  Ciccotti spent hours on the case. He reviewed x-rays, MRIs, and surgical reports. He spoke frequently with Fronek.

  “What are you thinking?” Wolever asked Ciccotti a few days before the draft.

  “I think this guy’s potential upside is worth the medical risk,” Ciccotti told Wolever.

  Wolever was thrilled to hear that.

  Ciccotti felt comfortable making the call for a number of reasons. He and Fronek are old friends—their sons, Matt Ciccotti and Jeff Fronek, were classmates at Penn—in the fraternity of baseball team physicians and his trust for the San Diego surgeon and his work is immense. The injury, though serious, was not to the labrum or rotator cuff in the shoulder or the ulna collateral ligament in the elbow. Those are dreaded pitching injuries. This was a broken bone, in the middle of the shaft. Hamels was young and otherwise healthy. Those were all pluses in Ciccotti’s mind.

  The final piece of evidence that Ciccotti used in giving Hamels the thumbs-up was the pitcher’s work during his senior season at Rancho Bernardo. The kid had healed, done his rehab, and come back better than ever. That was enough for Ciccotti to make the call that other teams weren’t willing to make.

  “The two guys most responsible for Cole being a Phillie are Marti Wolever and Dr. Ciccotti,” said Mike Arbuckle, who moved on to Kansas City’s front office in 2009. “Marti really pushed for him and Dr. Ciccotti gave him the OK after a whole bunch of teams red-flagged him. Dr. Ciccotti knew Cole’s doctor and knew how he was handled. He said, ‘It’s not going to be an issue,’ and we were comfortable with it.”

  The consensus around baseball: Hamels would have gone in the top 10, maybe the top 5, if he didn’t have the medical concern.

  Hamels’ medical condition actually led Phillies scouts to engage in some high-stakes cat-and-mouse games before the draft. In the days before a draft, it is not uncommon for a scout from one club to call a scout from a rival club to get a feel for what that club might do with its first pick. When opposing teams asked Phillies scouts about Hamels, the Phillies scouts told strategic white lies.

  “We can’t take that risk,” one Phillies scout told a rival club that was considering taking Hamels before the 17th pick.

  On June 4, the 2002 draft began. In a basement conference room at Veterans Stadium, the Phillies scouting staff listened via conference call as the names began coming off the board. Sixteen picks were made and now there was elation in the room. Wolever cleared his throat and said, “The Philadelphia Phillies select left-handed pitcher Hamels, Colbert Hamels, from Rancho Bernardo High School, San Diego, California.”

  Conner, the Southern California-based area scout who had been on Hamels all along, was at home, getting ready to go check out some players for the next year’s draft when he got the news. He was elated. All those visits to the Hamels’ home, all those phone calls to the pitcher the night before starts, all those days behind the backstop . . . they were worth it.

  “The way the draft works, there’s a lot of chance and luck that goes into it,” said Conner, still with the club as a West Coast cross-checker. “But when you get the one you want at Number One, it’s pretty special. That was a very rewarding day.”

  Eight pitchers went before Hamels in the draft. Only Greinke’s success rivals that of Hamels. Four left-handers—Adam Loewen, Francis, Saunders, and Kazmir—went ahead of Hamels. Kazmir was selected by the Mets two picks before Hamels at 17.

  The two matched up against each other in Game 1 of the 2008 World Series when Kazmir was with Tampa Bay. Hamels went seven innings and allowed just two runs. Kazmir went six innings and allowed three. It was Hamels’ fourth win of that postseason and when it was over, Rob Holiday, the Phillies’ assistant director of scouting, looked at his boss, Wolever, as if t
o say, “We got the right one.”

  One of the 16 teams that passed on Hamels that June was his hometown Padres, who selected Greene, a shortstop out of Clemson with the 13th pick.

  In the spring of 2011, Hamels said the Padres passed on him because he was too expensive. He received a $2 million bonus and the Padres paid Greene $1.5 million.

  Bill Gayton, San Diego’s scouting director in 2002, disputed Hamels’ claim that he was too expensive for the Padres. Gayton said his team extensively scouted Hamels, liked him, and, of course, had no medical concerns given that their team physician was the pitcher’s personal doctor.

  “I took our whole draft room over to watch his last start and he was impressive,” Gayton said.

  According to Gayton, the Padres’ decision to take Greene reflected an organizational desire to get a middle-of-the-diamond position player that could rise to the majors and make a quick impact. Greene, who was college baseball’s Player of the Year in 2002, became the first position player from the 2002 draft to reach the majors when he made it to San Diego late in the 2003 season. He started at shortstop for the Padres for five seasons, but hasn’t played since 2009.

  As a kid, Hamels was a big Padres fan. He was angry when the Padres traded Fred McGriff. He liked watching Ken Caminiti and Steve Finley with the 1998 World Series team. And, of course, he loved watching Trevor Hoffman throw that changeup. It was his inspiration for learning the pitch. But a decade into his pro career, Hamels said he was glad that the Padres passed on him in the 2002 draft. He believes there would have been too many distractions pitching for his hometown team. And besides, he likes the passion of the East Coast.

  “Now I know there is nothing better than pitching in Philadelphia in front of sellout crowds,” Hamels said in April 2011. “There aren’t too may sellouts on the West Coast. There’s just so much to do out there. The East Coast is the ultimate baseball experience.”

  Brett Myers was a second-year major-leaguer on his way to making 32 starts for the Phillies when he started hearing about Cole Hamels in 2003.

  “I was like, Holy shit! This guy is striking out everyone,” Myers recalled in April of 2011.

  A year out of high school, Hamels looked like what scouts call a fast-tracker. He overmatched hitters in the South Atlantic League, going 6-1 with an 0.84 ERA in 13 starts. Out of curiosity, Phils officials brought Hamels, then just 19, to Cooperstown, New York, for the annual Hall of Fame exhibition game that June. Hamels dazzled everyone with his poise and control, striking out nine Tampa Bay Rays in five innings. He moved up to the Florida State League and held his own against hitters several years older. In all, Hamels struck out 147 batters in 101 innings his first year in pro ball. He was becoming an overnight phenom and his star was about to become even brighter.

  The Phillies invited Hamels to big-league spring training camp in 2004. Though the pitcher had no chance of making the big club after just 100 pro innings in the low minors, club officials were eager to get a look at the 20-year-old prospect. On March 5, just before Hamels was about to be sent to minor-league camp, the Phillies brass decided to give him a start against the New York Yankees in Tampa. Two years earlier, Hamels had been playing catch with Mark Furtak as he rehabbed his broken arm. Now, he was about to pitch two innings against a Yankees lineup that had played in the World Series the year before. This would be the day that every sports fan in Philadelphia—not just the hard-core baseball fans, but every sports fan, from leather-lunged E-A-G-L-E-S backers to the orange-clad Flyers rooters—would learn the name Cole Hamels.

  In his second inning of work, Hamels faced Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, and Tony Clark. He struck out all three of them. In one inning, he went from prospect to mega-prospect, becoming probably the most ballyhooed minor-leaguer in franchise history.

  It was no surprise that Hamels went to his changeup against the famed Yankee hitters. Major leaguers are wired to hit fastballs, and a good changeup—one that looks like a fastball until it dies at the plate—can reduce even the best hitter to a pile of frustration. As a youngster, Hamels watched Trevor Hoffman close games for the Padres throwing almost nothing but changeups. “I need that pitch,” he said to himself. When Furtak got a look at Hamels as a sophomore in high school, he agreed. Hamels needed that pitch.

  “He didn’t have enough fastball to get it by hitters,” Furtak said.

  Furtak had no doubt the fastball would come as Hamels got stronger, but in the meantime, he decided to teach him the changeup and have him pitch backward—i.e., throw changeups in counts where hitters usually expect to see fastballs.

  Furtak showed Hamels the changeup grip and told him to throw it.

  “He threw it right into the ground,” Furtak said with a laugh.

  Hamels kept throwing the pitch and picked it up quickly. He had nice movement and fade on the pitch. He had the confidence to throw it in games because he had a first-round draft pick behind the plate. No matter where Hamels’ changeup went, Scott Heard was going to catch it. Four years later, Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez couldn’t hit it.

  Phillies officials left that game in Tampa thinking that Hamels was riding in the high-speed lane to the majors. But it turned out that Hamels was pitching with a secret that day. His elbow hurt even before he took the mound, but he was so excited about the opportunity to pitch in a big-league game against the Yankees that he said nothing about it. It would be the first of several mistakes that Hamels made early in his pro career, the first of several mistakes that the young pitcher turned into the learning experiences that helped him become one of the top pitchers in the game.

  Hamels made just 10 starts in 2004 and 2005. Ten. There were times when the same people who believed he would be a fast-tracker to the majors wondered if he was going to be an injury-plagued washout, just another great talent that never got out of Double-A. Hamels was slowed significantly by an elbow strain in 2004, and in 2005 by a lower-back condition that he learned would require almost constant maintenance.

  In between the elbow strain and the back issue, Hamels broke a bone in his pitching hand throwing not a changeup, but a punch, in a fight outside a Clearwater barroom called Razzel’s Lounge. A group of Phillies and Toronto Blue Jays minor leaguers were finishing up a night on the town on January 29, 2005. Words were exchanged between some of the ballplayers and some of the locals at the bar. Hamels said he acted in self-defense when he popped one of the locals. Clearwater police said he and the ballplayers were the aggressors, with Hamels, then 21, getting out of a car to throw that punch. No charges were filed, but Hamels was punished in more ways than one. The organization revoked his invite to big-league spring-training camp. And the broken hand required surgery and another trip to that prison known as injury rehab.

  While the Phillies’ big leaguers worked out of the major-league complex that February, Hamels reported to the minor-league complex for rehab workouts every afternoon, long after the big leaguers had left.

  “I wish I was there,” he said one day that February, his voice filled with regret.

  There would be more regret later that season. Hamels’ hand healed and he went 4-0 with a 2.19 ERA in six starts at Single A Clearwater and Double-A Reading. Phillies officials were starting to think that Hamels might be able to help the big club late in the season when lower back soreness ended his season in late July.

  Back to rehab prison.

  Hamels saw back specialists and was diagnosed with a disc problem. He had always been a kid that could grab a baseball and ring up a dozen strikeouts with ease. But now, in his early twenties, he had grown to 6-4 and it would take work to keep his long frame strong and aligned. It would take work to compete at the levels Hamels wanted to reach. Would he be willing to do it?

  “I took a lot of things for granted,” said Hamels, reflecting in 2006 on the hurdles he’d encountered early in his pro career. “I was a player who got by year after year on talent. But talent only takes you so far. The fact of the matter is you actually have to work at this game
to be successful. I’ve learned that the hard way. But sometimes, to be a better person and player, you have to learn things the hard way.

  “When you see an opportunity in front of you dwindling and diminishing because of the way you go about your business—it’s not a good feeling. I got offtrack that first big-league camp. I hurt my elbow and didn’t tell anyone. Then I got in the fight. I made a mistake. I learned to walk the other way. It was a wake-up call. Everything.”

  Hamels echoed a lot of those remarks during spring training in 2011.

  “You think you’re invincible,” he said. “I thought I was invincible. But then you learn. You learn that you have to take advantage of your opportunities because they disappear fast.”

  Razzel’s is still there in Clearwater, on Gulf to Bay Boulevard, just a couple of miles from the Phillies’ training facility. It is strictly off-limits to the Phillies’ minor-leaguers. Call it The Cole Hamels Rule.The fight is still brought up to Phillies officials from time to time. Six years after it occurred, one longtime club official said that once he was sure Hamels’ hand would heal, he actually didn’t mind that the pitcher had the little dustup.

  “Cole came from a perfect, almost Leave It to Beaver background,” said the official, asking not to be named. “It showed he had some ’nads.”

  Married with two young sons, Hamels barely recognizes the guy that threw that punch outside of the bar in January 2005.

  “Values change,” he said during the spring of 2011.

  Hamels laughed.

  “The funny thing is that place is a shithole,” he said. “There were so many better spots.”

  When measured against the new generation of big-league stadia, Great American Ball Park in Cincinnati is hardly an eye-catcher. There is no panorama of the city skyline because the diamond faces away from downtown. On the outside, the place looks to be encased in poured concrete. The Ohio River flows languidly beyond the right-field wall, bringing with it driftwood, barges, and the occasional passing recreational boat.