A Big Sleeper, Piazza Fulfills Dad’s Dream

Every day after school in Phoenixville, Pa., Mike Piazza knew his father Vince would pitch to him in the backyard batting cage he’d built for his son. Dad often would throw for an hour or more, leaning on the boy to learn what hard work--even in a game--entailed. “He never resented that I pushed him, hour after hour,” says Vince. After BP, Mike knew the family was heading to Veterans Stadium to watch the Phillies from their seats behind third base.

“We never missed a ballgame,” says Vince. Mike idolized future Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt. Meanwhile, the father would tell his son to watch each great player closely and “take a piece of each.” During the games, Vince would fill Mike’s ear with the cliches of Americana. “He’d say, ‘If you work hard, dreams do come true. Always believe in yourself, even when others don’t. Look for an opportunity, then take it,’ ” recalls Mike. The father’s words were backed up by little but hot air; after all, he was only a modest success in business. “We didn’t have too many dollars back then,” says Vince. For that matter, Mike wasn’t such a hot player. But that didn’t stop either of them.

“I always dreamed of being a major league player,” Vince says. “I prayed to God, ‘Let one of these (sons) fulfill my dream.’ ” That approach isn’t kosher according to modern child-rearing theory, which holds that any kid who is forced to make his own bed before age 16 is condemned to spend decades in psychotherapy. But that’s not what Vince believed.You want it, you fight for it. Anybody who won’t drive himself hard doesn’t deserve much, anyway.

When Mike played for Phoenixville High, each day he’d hit a hundred balls off a batting tee--a tee that was actually a highway construction cone. When the cone started to disintegrate, he’d tape it back together. This kid deserves the best, thought Vince. So, he called in chits to get the boy some special hitting instruction. Business was better. Vince had some pull.

“Ted Williams came to the house when Mike was 15,” says Vince, still proud of the coup. “Ted said, ‘Don’t change anything about that swing. But remember, that’s only 50%. The other 50 is here.’ ” And he tapped his head.

In high school, Phoenixville’s field had no left or center field fence. Since Mike wasn’t too fast, how was he going to hit enough home runs to attract the attention of big league scouts? “There was a fence in right field and it was pretty short,” says Vince. “That’s how Mike learned to wait for the Vpitch so well, so he could pop it over that right field fence.”

The 1988 draft came and 61 rounds of it went. After 1,388 other guys had been picked, Mike still hadn’t been selected. As Phillies pitching coach Johnny Podres said this week: “Mike couldn’t throw. He couldn’t catch the ball. He couldn’t run. And his bat was so slow, he looked like he was swinging in slow motion.” Who knew that Mike hadn’t really started growing yet?

So, Vince took one last shot. One of his lifelong friends from Norristown, Pa., was Dodgers Manager Tommy Lasorda, who also is Mike’s godfather. Come on, Tommy, who cares about a No. 62 draft pick? Maybe the kid hasn’t got it. But look how hard he’s worked. Just give him a chance, any chance. So, as a favor to a longtime friend, Lasorda got the Dodgers to waste a pick on Mike.

Last Tuesday night at Veterans Stadium, Mike Schmidt threw out the ceremonial first ball for the 67th All-Star Game. He threw it to the leading vote-getter on the National League team. He threw it to the guy, already playing in his fourth All-Star Game, who someday may be considered the greatest catcher in baseball history, surpassing even Johnny Bench, Roy Campanella and Yogi Berra. He threw it to Mike Piazza.

On the ceremonial ball, Schmidt wrote, “You’re the best.” “That’s when it all hit me--on that first (ceremonial) pitch,” said Piazza. “I’m catching Mike Schmidt, my idol. . . . My family’s in the stands in my home town. . . . Playing here is always a thrill, but especially a thrill tonight.”

In his first plate appearance last Tuesday night, Piazza fought off a forkball, took a forkball, then got a fastball belt-high on the inside corner. He hit it like it was sitting on a traffic cone. The distance of the home run was measured at 448 feet, but the blow was even more impressive than that. It looked like it was trying to bore it’s way through the mezzanine and back to Phoenixville. In his next plate appearance, Piazza delivered his signature blow--a long blast to the opposite field, this time a double off the right field wall.”I’ve never seen anybody do it the way he does it,” said National League Manager Bobby Cox of the Atlanta Braves. “He hits down on the ball, but he gets backspin. That makes the ball carry. And he’s one of the stronger guys in baseball. Nobody else hits most of his home runs to the opposite field. And I mean 450-foot homers.”

Of course, Piazza got the game’s most valuable player award. “Without a doubt, this is a small tribute to my dad,” Piazza said. “I never imagined anything heroic. . . . I’m running out of words to describe it.”

So, Mike and Vince both had to cry some. “Fortunately, I’m fulfilling my dream through him,” Vince said.

Of course, Vince Piazza hasn’t done too badly himself. A couple of years ago, he tried to buy a toy for himself--the Chicago White Sox. He had the big bucks and wanted to move them to St. Petersburg, Fla. Baseball (this-is-our-coun-try-club-and-we-don’t-have-to-tell-you-why) blocked him in its typical way. There are still hard feelings.

You’d have to have dug deep to find them last Tuesday night, however. At the moment, Piazza is hitting .363 with 24 homers and 63 RBI. Could a catcher someday, somehow, win a Triple Crown? His 116 career homers have come at an earlier stage of his career than any catcher in history. And his Dodgers are just a game out of first place in the NL West.

Piazza said his performance wasn’t just an honor for him and a testimonial for his father. He hoped it made Tommy Lasorda’s sick bed feel softer. “We’re all pulling for him and we’re glad he’s feeling better,” he said. “Me particularly, because he did so much for me.”

That’s Mike Piazza, all right. Somebody’s always making it easy for him.