A Comebacker : Former Player Assumes Lead Role in Resurrecting Baseball Program at Cal Lutheran

Rich Hill looked and sounded like King Kong Bundy as he leaned on the sprinkler pipe, grunting and sweating while twisting the metal handle in a gargantuan effort to shut off the water. This menial task had taken on new importance since Cal Lutheran’s baseball field was beginning to take on the appearance of Lake Erie.

The first-year coach twisted and shouted until finally the pipe ruptured, sending a water geyser directly into his face. “It was like Ol’ Faithful,” he said.

Hill ran to his office and tried to phone members of the CLU grounds crew but was told they were in San Diego for the Super Bowl, compliments of the Dallas Cowboys, who use the school’s football facilities for their annual preseason training camp.

About an hour later, after several trips from the field to the flood-control command post set up in Hill’s office, the water was turned off. “I think the field will be OK,” he said later, “but I’m a mess.”

Welcome to the messy world of Cal Lutheran baseball. A world that includes:

A mere 2 1/2 tuition scholarships for players at a private school that costs $11,500 per annum to attend.

Mass defections by athletes who could not afford to stay in the program with one-quarter-or-less tuition scholarships.

An $80-per-player fee to pay for basics such as travel bags, shoes and T-shirts.

A former head coach who sometimes didn’t show up for practices or games.

Which brings us back to the newly hired Hill, 25, to whom the school is looking to clean up and redirect its baseball operation. The CLU alum--he played for the Kingsmen in 1983 and ‘84--took the job in May after Al Schoenberger gave up the ghost. Schoenberger had coached at Cal Lutheran for 14 seasons, including eight as the head coach. In March, when he announced that he would not return, Schoenberger, 52, said he was tired, a victim not only of coaching burnout but also of the rigors of keeping CLU baseball financially afloat.

“I’m not willing to make all the sacrifices any longer,” he said. And he added rather poetically, “When you’re trying to push a grapefruit through a doughnut, it’s time to move on.”

Who could argue? Eight years of fund-raisers, recruiting, taking care of the field and managing the team all as a part-time employee had diminished Schoenberger’s enthusiasm. Last season, he often left practices in the hands of assistant Don Meinhold and he missed a number of games. The Kingsmen wandered to a 17-25 record. “We didn’t get a lot of coaching,” said Chris Portis, a sophomore first baseman. “Al wasn’t here a lot and we missed the leadership.”

A day after Schoenberger announced his resignation, Hill applied. That was the kind of altruistic enthusiasm CLU Athletic Director Bob Doering was looking for. It also didn’t hurt that Hill had a master’s degree in education and could be brought into the Kingsmen fold on a full-time basis--as baseball coach and an admissions counselor.

After leaving Cal Lutheran in 1984, Hill played Class-A ball as an infielder in the St. Louis Cardinals organization but quit after being told by his manager in Savannah, Ga., that he was little more than a “spare tire.”

“I knew spare tires in A ball don’t last too long,” Hill said. He returned to Thousand Oaks in 1985 to earn a graduate degree and work as a part-time assistant under Schoenberger.

Shortly after replacing the former coach, Hill began to feel the push of the grapefruit through the doughnut.

First, he learned that six underclassmen starters from last year’s team would not return because of the limited scholarship money. He spent 12-hour workdays finding players--mostly from Southern California junior colleges--who wouldn’t mind rolling up some debts by way of student loans if it meant playing at a four-year school. He found them--seven at other schools, one at CLU who happened to be playing another sport.

Then, after reeling in the athletes, Hill discovered that most of them were at least temporarily ineligible because of transcript or grade deficiencies. Schoenberger’s grapefruit was becoming a beach ball. Even though Hill is optimistic that most of the academic woes will be settled by the season’s start--Feb. 6 against Cal State Northridge--the team has been beset by freak accidents.

Tom Bonds, CLU’s All-American quarterback who was expected to start in center field, recently suffered ligament damage in his right ankle while playing basketball during a team conditioning session. Jon Egertson, a third baseman who transferred from Florida State after starting at second base at CLU as a freshman in 1986, is recovering from a car accident in which he suffered head and back injuries.

Both players should be back in two to four weeks. Other newcomers are Anthony Espitia, a catcher from Ventura College; Henry Campos, a shortstop-third baseman from Santa Monica who was selected All-Western State Conference last season; Matt Shepherd, pitcher from Ventura; Dave Leonhardt, a freshman second baseman from Orange Coast; and Greg Minick, a pitcher from Monterey Peninsula.

Daren Cornell, a shortstop from Pierce who has been academically ineligible, may remain ineligible throughout the season.

Hill called the eligibility troubles “a black cloud hanging over us.”

Beyond the challenge of gathering enough athletes to field a team, Hill methodically is building rapport with his players, many of whom are only three years younger than he is. His style contrasts Schoenberger’s in that Hill stresses an I’m-the-boss-but-I’m-hip-too approach.

His list of all-new taboos includes: no profanity, no tobacco-chewing, no sunglasses or lounge chairs in the dugout, no unconstructive criticism of teammates, no dressing in the dugout and no daydreaming during practice.

These represent revolutionary changes to those few leftovers from the laid-back Schoenberger era.

“The transition has been hard on some of us,” said catcher Kevin Wynn, the only returning starter from last season. “We’re not used to the structure of the practices and the discipline. But the attitude seems to be better.”

Hill said he initially worried that players would not adhere to his more-disciplined approach because of his age but added that the fears have since disappeared. “I expect them to listen to what I say, but I try to make myself available to them for whatever they want to talk about--girlfriends, school, baseball--whatever. They respect me for that.

“The age thing has advantages. I’m able to relate to the players. I listen to Rick Dees in the morning just like they do.

“Plus, I have more energy. I’m striving hard to make this a successful program. I work from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. and then stay on the phone until 10 at night. But I don’t mind.”

And he won’t--at least until the dreaded grapefruit-doughnut syndrome takes over completely.