Ball Is Positive Sign for Fabregas

So, what would you give for a Jorge Fabregas home run baseball?

A limited-edition Jorge Fabregas home run baseball, it should be noted.

The one and only, actually.

Sunday’s auction was won by Fabregas himself, and all it cost him was three autographed baseballs.

Autographed by Jorge Fabregas.

What a deal.

“They could have asked for anything and they would’ve got it,” Fabregas said of the family that retrieved the ball he hit for his first major league home run and brought it to the Angels’ clubhouse after the game.

“Anything from here, anyway. If they wanted Chili’s bat, I probably could’ve gotten it for them.”

Chili’s bat, Mitch Williams’ locker name plate, Marcel Lachemann’s arm-angle diagram--some big-time stuff was there for the taking.

Instead, the request was for three measly baseballs--and Fabregas didn’t even have to buy them.

“Whatever it takes,” Fabregas said.

If the kind family had known the true historical significance behind that baseball, they might have been able to hold out for Shawn Boskie’s suitcase. When Fabregas cleared the right-field fence in the third inning against Chicago’s Jason Bere, he finally ended what had become the longest homerless streak of any active big-league player--181 at-bats before home run No. 1.

Initially, Fabregas wasn’t aware of the significance, either. “One of the reporters mentioned it to me,” he said. “I told him, ‘Whatever. I knew I’d hit it someday.’

“I always thought the record would have gone to some little guy, some pesky guy who hits a lot of singles. I couldn’t believe I had the all-time record.”

In truth, he didn’t. Before Sunday, Fabregas only owned the current active record.

That knowledge brightened Fabregas’ mood from pumped to giddy.

“I’m sending it home and framing it,” Fabregas announced as he displayed the precious spheroid. “Or put it under glass. Whatever you’re supposed to do with your first big-league home run.”

Fabregas was sending it home to Miami, to his father Jose, who was watching Sunday’s Angels-White Sox game on the satellite dish Jorge bought for him last year, with some of the money Jorge earned from the 59 days he spent with the Angels in 1994.

“I can give it to my dad as a Father’s Day gift,” Fabregas said. “It’s perfect. It worked out great.”

As Fabregas walked across the clubhouse to stash the ball away for safe keeping, relief pitcher Troy Percival jokingly called out, “Let me see it. I know a kid outside who’d love to have it.”

“I don’t think so,” Fabregas shot back, without breaking stride.

Fabregas gently placed the ball on the top shelf of his locker stall and turned to meet the press and assured them that what they had witnessed was no act of God or miracle akin to the parting of the Red Sea.

“I can hit home runs,” he insisted. “I’m not a home-run hitter, but with the right pitch, I could hit it out. . . . As my career progresses, I could see myself hitting 10 or 15 home runs a year, given 500 at-bats.”

Those last few words perked up the ears of outfielder and locker mate Jim Edmonds.

“You mean two or three home runs,” Edmonds quipped as he slapped his right palm against Fabregas’ left thigh. “Go ahead, Jorgie. Tell them about your new-found power.”

There really isn’t much to say. Before Sunday, in 1,143 professional at-bats, Fabregas had hit precisely 11 home runs. Six with Midland in 1993, one with Vancouver in 1994 and four more in 73 at-bats with Vancouver this season.

The Angels know the numbers. Chili Davis had promised to buy Fabregas a sports coat as soon as Home Run No. 1 was struck. “He told me that last year,” Fabregas said with a smile. “It took a while.” The rest of the Angels, having studied every step of Fabregas’ trot around the bases, decided to give Fabregas the cold shoulder upon his return to the dugout, as if this were absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

“No one would shake my hand,” Fabregas reported. “They gave me the silent treatment. It’s one of those things they do in baseball.

“Finally, I just yelled out, ‘Hey, this doesn’t happen too often!’ Then they all came up and congratulated me.”

Edmonds, cursing his luck, missed it entirely.

“I was upstairs [in the clubhouse] having a little snack,” Edmonds said. “I’m not as excited as Jorge, obviously, but I’m happy for him. I remember mine. It must’ve taken me 150 at-bats. A lot of guys take a while. It’s great to get it over with. Baseball becomes a lot more fun once you don’t have to worry about it.”

Fabregas, certainly, was enjoying the Post-First Home Run Effect.

“Oh, I knew it was out,” Fabregas said, playing along with a writer’s line of questioning. “I hit ‘em in BP [batting practice] all the time, so I know how it feels.

“If BP counted, I think I’d be a home-run king or something. Unreal. I always tells myself, ‘Why don’t you do it in a game?’ Oh well. I just keep plugging away.”

Sooner or later, he knew a home run would come.

Sooner or later, he knew he would make Chili pay.

“When Chili made the bet, he told me, ‘I probably won’t be buying you one for a while,’ ” Fabregas said. “And I don’t see him now. He got out of here pretty fast. But when I got back to the dugout today, he told me, ‘I owe you one.’ ”

Make it an expensive one, Jorge. Take him deep.