TONY HUDSON : The Glory Days Gone, He’s Hoping to Regain ‘That Feeling’

Not long ago, pitcher Tony Hudson was approached by a young fan who wanted to chat about baseball. So Hudson chatted. This, Hudson can do with ease. On it went until the fan casually mentioned that he had seen Hudson’s name in an unlikely place: the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y.

“Say, what?” said Hudson.

Surely there had been some mistake. Hudson, 29, never has played an inning, faced one batter, thrown a single pitch in the major leagues. The only way he gets into, say, Toronto’s Exhibition Stadium, is to buy a ticket.

But sure enough, Hudson’s name can be found at the Hall of Fame. There, among the exhibits honoring amateur baseball, is a plaque which features the most valuable players of the NCAA’s College World Series. Hudson, then a junior right-hander for Cal State Fullerton, won the award in 1979.

“I thought that was pretty neat,” Hudson says. “Now I want to be MVP of something in pro ball. I want to be MVP up here. But I guess first things first: get to the big leagues and stay there.”

For nearly eight exasperating years, Hudson has toiled in the minor leagues. He has spent time in Single-A and experienced all the charm places such as Gastonia, N.C., and Sumter, S.C., can offer. He has baked in the afternoon sun of Tulsa, Okla., a Double-A town; sweltered in the humidity of Syracuse, N.Y., as part of the Blue Jays’ Triple-A organization.

One more bus ride and Hudson receives a complimentary set of pneumatic brakes.

None of this is what Hudson had in mind when he left Fullerton in 1980. “You know how you are in college, when you’ve had good years, you say, ‘I’m not going to spend more than four years in the minor leagues,’ ” says Hudson.

Yes, well, so much for deadlines. Hudson, now in his second season with the Syracuse Chiefs, has discovered humility, or at least the kind baseball administers. He is no longer a young prospect, but an older, more questionable one. His resume, once shimmering with achievements, awaits the following entry:

The Toronto Blue Jays called up Syracuse pitcher Tony Hudson of the International League.

Until then, he waits. It isn’t easy.

“Once you give up on your dream, forget about it, it’s over,” Hudson says. “My dream has not left me. It hasn’t left me at all. I still think I’m a major league pitcher. I still feel like I can go up there and do some damage. I have a lot of guys that I’ve played against up there, a lot of guys I see down here that are going up there. I say, ‘They have nothing on me. Let’s go!’

“I’m just waiting for my number to be called, that’s all. One of these days, the telephone is going to ring and No. 25 (Manager Doug Ault) is going to say, ‘It’s time, let’s go.’ I’ll shake his hand and say, ‘It’s been fun playing for you, but I don’t want to see you again.’ ”

Each day, without fail, Hudson glances at a large, almost gaudy ring on his right hand. On one side is the Fullerton school emblem. On the other, are scores of Titan victories in the Series. It is a reminder of better days, when Hudson helped ensure Fullerton of that national championship. Back then, he was arguably the best college pitcher in the country.

“I wear that ring every day,” he said. “It keeps me going. I think about how well I pitched back then. If I pitched well there, I can pitch well here.”

Four times in the Series, Fullerton Coach Augie Garrido motioned to the Titan bullpen for Hudson, normally a starter, but pressed into a relief role because of circumstances. Four times, Hudson left the mound without allowing a single earned run. By the time Fullerton had won its title, Hudson had pitched 11 scoreless innings.

Against Arizona, Hudson entered the game with runners on first and second and only one out. If they lost, the Titans were eliminated from the tournament. Hudson walked the first batter he faced to load the bases, but then struck out Tony Francona for a second out and then watched All-American Brad Mills ground into a third out.

“He turned the game around for us defensively against Arizona . . . “ Garrido would say later.

Says Hudson of the Series: “That was like a dream to me. I will never forget the moments I had in the College World Series. We knew we had the team to win it. Whether we won it or not, that was a different story. For me, it seemed like I could do no wrong. Augie would give me the ball and I’d go out there and throw it where ever I wanted to. I could have thrown it with my eyes closed. I just couldn’t do anything wrong.”

The following season, the Texas Rangers drafted Hudson in the seventh round of the draft. He reported to the team’s Double-A facility in Tulsa, where he expected a temporary stay before moving quickly along to Triple-A and then to the big leagues. So far, temporary has lasted nearly seven years.

On Hudson’s first day as a professional ballplayer, he took a plane to Jackson, Miss., where Tulsa was scheduled to play the New York Mets’ Double-A team. Clothes stuck out from his suitcase. He was alone and scared.

“Here he goes, here he goes,” Hudson said to himself as he arrived at the ballpark.

He didn’t pitch for two weeks. Then, in a game against Shreveport, an affiliate of the San Francisco Giants, Hudson received his first starting assignment. He promptly began the game by walking three consecutive batters, including Chili Davis and Dan Gladden.

“I’m thinking, ‘Wow, wait a minute here,’ ” he says. “I was trying too much. I wanted to impress everyone. You know, ‘Rock-n-roll, let’s get in the box . . . I’m-the-best stuff.’ I didn’t know that these boys thought they were the best, too.”

Hudson survived the inning and left in the fifth with a no-hitter and a tired arm.

So far, Hudson has been used as a starter, a long reliever, a short reliever, a spot starter. There is nothing left. He has had seasons that caused him to sit near the phone, waiting confidently for a phone call from the bigs. He has had seasons that caused him to avoid the mailbox, in fear of news of an unconditional release.

Nothing has come easy for Hudson since he began doing this for a living. Just when his talents--”that feeling”--returns, it disappears soon thereafter.

Once, in hopes of improving his position with Ranger management, he asked for an assignment in South America. He was sent to Barranquilla, Colombia. “We called it ‘Barra-can-kill-you,’ ” Hudson says.

With apologies to the city, Hudson says he would never go there again. Too much shooting. Too much drugs. “That place was a nightmare,” he says. “You never went outside at night by yourself, unless you were with someone who knew the city, and then you better really know who you’re with.”

In 1981, the Rangers sent him to Tulsa again. Hudson thanked them by finishing the year with the team’s Single-A team in Asheville, N.C.

“I had a horrible year,” he says. ‘I (had gone) home, had a lot of fun, didn’t take care of myself. I was thinking, ‘I’m in Double-A ball, this is going to happen.’ I was young and naive. I didn’t know. It was bad.

“That was wild. I get sent down June 28. I sit in a hotel the night of June 28, 29, 30. I went and sat at the top of a hill. The bottom line was this: I didn’t take care of myself, so baseball didn’t take care of me. The biggest deal to me was that I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was going out at night, chasing the girls. When it came time for my body to function on the field, it wasn’t in the position to do it.”

Hudson returned to California at season’s end. “I went home and asked myself, ‘What are you going to do? Do you want to make something of yourself?’

“I woke up one day and said, ‘I want to play baseball.’ ”

Two years ago, Hudson says he thought he deserved a chance to pitch in the major leagues, or at least for the Rangers’ Triple-A team in Oklahoma City. After the first half of the season, he was 8-4, had 10 saves and less than a 2.20 earned run average. “That’s a whole year for some people,” he says.

Instead, teammate Dwayne Henry received the call.

Hudson is property of the Blue Jays now. He learned of the news from a friend, who wrote a postcard that said simply: “Congratulations on becoming a Blue Jay.”

Several days later, Hudson received a packet informing him of the acquisition. A new beginning, thought Hudson.

That was a season and a half ago. Patience and impatience take turns with Hudson. He desperately wants a chance for a Toronto appearance, but then again, he isn’t in any hurry to alienate his new employers.

In spring training, against the New York Mets, Hudson allowed a bloop single to Keith Hernandez. Wally Backman was next and he grounded into a double play. Len Dykstra followed with a fly ball to center.

“I thought, ‘This isn’t hard at all,’ ” Hudson says. “I was in a streak. This is wonderful. That’s the kind of feeling I had that night in the College World Series. I’ll never forget that feeling, because when you get it, you don’t ever forget it. I was coming to the ballpark saying, ‘I might get the ninth inning, I might get the ninth inning.’ ”

Instead, he got the Syracuse Chiefs and $3,100 a month.

“Well, at least they wanted to look at me,” he says. “Now at least they have a general idea of what I can do. I hope that they don’t ever forget it.”

This hasn’t been an especially memorable season for Hudson. His record is 3-3 and his earned-run average is 5.84. He has yet to start a game, is rarely used in important situations, and isn’t quite sure if he’s a mop-up man or long reliever. The good news is that his wife, Gina, is pregnant and Hudson can’t wait for the new arrival. If only he could present his newborn with an appropriate gift, say, security from a father who pitches in the major leagues.

“I’m not asking nobody to put Tony Hudson in the big leagues because he’s crying and weeping,” he says. “No, I want to earn my way there. I want to deserve it. Time says I deserve a chance right now. Time says I really deserve a shot up there.

“Sometimes, it seems like you’re going to be happier on the other side of the fence, not playing. But when it comes down to spring training, I’ve said, ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got to come back and play.’ Who knows what I can do this season? When spring training comes around, who knows what I can do? Each year I keep saying, ‘This is my year.’

“One of these years has got to be my year.”

Later that evening, Hudson enters the game against the Columbus Clippers, the New York Yankees’ affiliate. He pitches 1 innings and allows four hits, including a home run, and three earned runs.