Pitfalls of Minor Leagues Haven’t Deterred Dedrick

It was a minor league moment rich in have-vs.-have-not symbolism. Chipper Jones of the Durham Bulls, the No. 1 pick of the 1990 draft, stepped in to face Jim Dedrick, a Frederick (Md.) Keys right-hander who lasted until the 33rd round of the same draft.

Jones hit Carolina League pitchers hard--he was batting .273 with four home runs and 31 runs batted in before being called up to the Atlanta Braves’ double-A team last month--but Dedrick had a secret weapon: an eephus pitch, a slow looper of a curve that barely registers on most radar guns.

“Jones swung so hard that he wrapped himself around 360 degrees and ended up on the other side of the plate,” said Matt Hicks, the Keys’ radio announcer. “Jones was laughing about it, and Jim had a little smile on his face.

“But Jim made the mistake of coming back with the exact same pitch, and Jones drilled it off the wall for a double.

“I don’t think he’ll follow up an eephus curve with another one again.”

This is the type of lesson Dedrick doesn’t mind learning. This mistake only cost Dedrick two bases in a 3-0 loss to the Bulls; another cost him $200 in fines, an 18-game suspension without pay and a brief dose of unwelcome national attention.

Dedrick, a graduate of Huntington Beach High who pitched at Orange Coast and Southern California colleges, is getting his chance to prove himself on the baseball field after spending most of his first two professional seasons on the disabled list.

A spot starter and one of the Keys’ most consistent relief pitchers, Dedrick had a 5-3 record with a 3.18 earned-run average and two saves before Friday’s game.

“He’s been solid all year,” Keys Manager Bob Miscik said. “You know what you’re going to get when you throw him out there. He’s going to come in, throw strikes. He’s going to keep you in the game.”

After what happened late in the 1990 season, Dedrick was worried about being taken out of the game--professional baseball--for good.

He and four teammates on the Wausau (Wis.) Timbers were suspended and fined for taking part in an ill-advised prank one rainy Sunday in South Bend, Ind.

The days’ game had been rained out, and in the idle time around the hotel, someone had an idea how to be certain the doubleheader scheduled for the next day would also be washed out. The Timbers were finishing a grueling 20-day, 19-game trip and the players were hoping to get home a bit earlier.

So the five took a taxi to Stanley Coveleski Stadium, hopped the fence--Dedrick needed some help because his right arm was in a sling after early-season surgery--and pulled back the tarpaulin that was keeping the field dry.

“It was something we thought we could do without getting caught,” Dedrick said. “And if we did get caught, we didn’t think it would be that serious. But obviously we were wrong.”

Although the groundskeepers were able to make the field playable and the doubleheader was played, the Midwest League acted swiftly, suspending the players for the rest of the season and 10 games into the next.

Meanwhile, some were calling them the “Wausau Water Boys” and the story spread nationally. The prank was compared to one perpetrated in “Bull Durham”; Kevin Costner’s character leads his teammates to turn on the sprinklers to cause a “rainout.”

Dedrick wasn’t laughing. Worried that he had played his last professional baseball game, he ducked the attention as best he could, returning to his family home in Huntington Beach.

But Wausau’s parent club, the Baltimore Orioles, hadn’t given up on Dedrick, and in the next spring training, he said, the incident was all but forgotten. The suspension was reduced from 10 to two games in the 1991 season.

But because he was still playing in the Midwest League--for the Orioles’ new team, the Kane County Cougars--reporters brought up the South Bend incident.

“Last year it seemed like every town we were in, they asked about it,” Dedrick said. “I could pitch a good game and they would still always ask about the tarps.”

It’s a question that is rarely asked now. This season, Dedrick, 24, was promoted to the Keys, the Orioles’ team in Frederick, a town of 30,000 about 45 miles west of Baltimore. It’s still a Class-A assignment, but the Keys are in the Carolina League, which is considered a step up from the Midwest League.

At 6 feet, 185 pounds, Dedrick doesn’t have a build conducive to the 90-m.p.h. fastballs coveted by major league teams.

“Jim is a control-type pitcher,” Miscik said. “He doesn’t overpower you. He changes speeds, works extremely quickly, holds runners on base and fields his position extremely well.

“You don’t look at Jim Dedrick and say he’s going to be a bona fide major league prospect but when you watch him pitch, the combination of all those things I just said, makes him a very good competitor.”

For much of his pro career, Dedrick hasn’t been able to prove how competitive he is because he had been on the disabled list so often. After pitching only 10 innings for Wausau, Dedrick had surgery on his right elbow to remove a large bone chip. He was sidelined for the rest of the season.

Then in his second start for Kane County last year, he tore a muscle in the same elbow. At first he ignored the injury, but it was affecting his control so he went on the disabled list for a month. He then tried to come back too early and ended up on the DL for another month.

He finished the season, and in 88 1/3 innings had a 4-5 record with a 2.95 ERA. Despite the arm problem, he struck out 71 and walked only 38.

Dedrick’s control--he has only walked 27 batters in 65 innings--makes him valuable in any situation. The “bulldog” attitude that SCC Coach Charlie Phillips remembers when Dedrick was the Vanguards’ ace, also helps.

For instance, last Monday, Miscik overheard Dedrick tell a teammate, “The game is over,” after Dedrick entered in relief in the sixth inning and the Durham Bulls scored two runs, one of which was charged to Dedrick.

He backed up his prediction, retiring the final nine batters and striking out the side in the ninth to earn the victory.

“I’d rather have the ball in my hand than anybody else,” Dedrick said. “I think I can do the job.

“I always say stuff like that to the manager. I want him to know that everything’s under control, have a little fun and break the ice with him.”

And there’s no penalty for that kind of fun.