For Fraser, It Would Be Like Heaven to Be Told He Is One of the Angels

The Angels have this pitcher, ya know, who will most times turn around when you scream, “Yeah, you, Willie Fraser!”

He’s from New York, ya see, not to be confused with New Yoke, as he calls it.

Fraser is a Met-lovin’, BB-throwin’, taxi-tested tough kid who is going to have to forward all mail to the Big Orange. That’s Orange as in county, as in the “maja leagues” and the Angels. That’s orange as in tract homes and South Coast Plaza and all that behind-the-orange-curtain jazz.

Just don’t be alarmed if someday soon you see this big guy with mustache and a faraway look wandering through the streets of Stanton, wondering where “a guy can get a good pizza around here.”

And really, who would have believed it?

Certainly not Fraser, who is still so unsure of his future that his bags remained packed and ready for departure.

He has the plane ticket to Edmonton, the one he hopes never to use, tucked in his hip pocket for the possible--at least that’s what he thinks--long trip to Triple-A ball.

He won’t really believe he’s here to stay until Angel Manager Gene Mauch personally hands him a Thomas Guide and shows him how to get from Balboa Island to Anaheim Stadium at 4 p.m. on a Friday.

It’s a shame Mauch won’t let Fraser in on his little secret. The manager knew Friday that Fraser was going to make the final roster cut, but it isn’t going to be official until today. Mauch figured he’d make the kid sweat out the weekend, maybe even scare another good performance out of Fraser.

“Let him be a man,” is basically how Mauch put it.

With his fate hidden within the mind of the manager, Fraser sat wide-eyed and pale-faced in the Angel dugout before Friday night’s Freeway Series game against the Dodgers.

Fraser was scheduled to pitch on this night, and you could all but see the double knot forming in his stomach.

“Oh yeah, I’m nervous,” Fraser said convincingly. “I still question what’s going to happen. That’s why I haven’t even unpacked yet, ‘cause I don’t know what’s going to happen. There’s not a heck of a lot I can do.”

But oh, there was. For all his fear, this 22-year-old also comes fully equipped with a 94-m.p.h. fastball that comes off his hand as if attached to a string.

He floated the pitch out in front of the Dodgers a few times, enough to throw four hitless innings and strike out five to get the victory in the Angels’ rain-soaked, 1-0 victory Friday night.

With that, Fraser put the bow on his spring-training present to Mauch and the Angels. Though his record is a modest 1-1, Fraser has a spring earned-run average of 2.17 with 17 strikeouts and 5 walks in 29 innings.

So maybe it’s the rest of the American League, and not Fraser, that should be nervous.

The Angels’ only problem concerning Fraser this spring has been figuring out exactly what to do with him. It’s not every day that a guy does the hop, skip and jump from college (Concordia in Bronxville, N.Y.) to the big leagues in less than two years.

The Angels grabbed Fraser in the first round of the 1985 free-agent draft, and he moved quickly up the ladder, missing Class AA and all those fun-filled bus rides.

He was 9-2 at Class A Palm Springs last season and 4-1 in Class AAA Edmonton before being called up to the Angels in September.

His future seems certain as a starter, but the Angels figure they have plenty of those right now. For a time, Mauch thought it better that Fraser pitch regularly in the minors than occasionally in the majors.

Mauch has since changed his tune. Now if he would only tell Fraser.

“I’ll pitch anywhere,” Fraser said, almost desperately. “If they want me as a long reliever, I’m here. If they need short relief, I’m here. I just want to stay. It’s been tough this year, not knowing this late, yet knowing that I’m throwing well enough to make the club.”

Fraser spent the final month of last season with the Angels and even got in four innings of real live work. It was enough to make him want to return.

“I got a taste of what it’s like here,” Fraser said. “It’s a feeling I can’t explain. I mean, just to be here, in the big leagues . . .”

Fraser grew up in upstate New York in Newburgh, which isn’t far from Albany. He grew up with the Mets and yearned to throw as hard as Nolan Ryan.

“It’s the pump you get,” he said, describing the thrill of the pitch.

It wasn’t much of a match, Fraser versus the poor Little Leaguers of Newburgh.

It was much the same in high school, where Fraser could also walk seven or eight guys (“no problem”) in one stretch.

But, surprisingly, Fraser left his control problems at the senior prom. Last season, for instance, he walked just 38 batters in 168 innings.

“That is the thing that’s rather remarkable,” Mauch said. “To have that kind of stuff, this early, and to have that kind of control.”

So why not tell him yourself, Gene? The kid is dying to know.

Give him a sign. Throw him a bone. Anything. Leave some local apartment listings in his locker. Tell him you love him. Make it official. Make him an Angel.