ANGEL IN TRAINING

Greg Jacobs took the mound with Mark Langston’s glove on his right hand and Michelle Carew’s initials written in his cap. The glove was a link to his childhood hero. The initials honored his high school friend.

For the 4,069 fans at Boise’s Memorial Stadium, it was the third game of the season. For Jacobs, it was a momentous occasion--his professional debut.

Jacobs had just joined the Class-A Boise Hawks, the starting point for many Angel players--a notch above Butte, Mont., the organization’s lowest level. He has spent the summer here, making the transition from college player to pro.

The adjustment is difficult, but already Jacobs, a 13th-round draft pick from Cal State Fullerton, has beaten the odds; he was drafted. From Little League to high school to college, many players are weeded out while the talented--and lucky--ones bloom.

Jacobs, 21, was an Angel even before the team signed him.

He grew up in Anaheim Hills, a short walk from Langston’s home. Jim Abbott lived around the corner. Rod Carew gave him hitting instructions. And Michelle Carew, who died of leukemia in 1996, was “like a sister.”

Jacobs has discussed pitching with Chuck Finley and Mike James, even bleached his hair this year to emulate them. Langston gave him a glove when he was a senior at Canyon High School.

“Mark told me to use the glove in my first professional game,” Jacobs said. “I guess he saw something in me. It sat on my top shelf. I brought it down when I signed my contract.”

Jacobs pitched 2 2/3 innings in relief on June 18 and got a victory in his first professional game. It was a baby step in a journey that, if all goes well, will take him through the Angels’ organization--Cedar Rapids, Lake Elsinore, Midland and Vancouver.

There are 750 major league jobs right now. Only 10.6% of the players signed ever spend a day in the majors, according to a Baseball America survey.

“I know the odds are like 1,000 to 1, or something like that,” Jacobs said. “I think I’ll be that one some day.

“I know my work ethic and my determination and my heart will get me there. I know how far off the major leagues are. Being left-handed, as long as I keep my head on straight, I know I will get there.”

Every player who signs a contract thinks he will make it.

A few do.

Jacobs might.

Every Little Bonus Helps

Boise first baseman Casey Kelly walked into a bar after one game, plopped down $100 and said he and his teammates would drink until it was gone.

Earlier he had hit a three-run home run in the Hawks’ 6-3 victory over Southern Oregon. The ball had barely cleared the fence when the green buckets came out. The team’s booster club members worked the crowd, getting donations from almost every adult.

This is a tradition in Boise. Any Hawk batter who hits a home run or any pitcher who strikes out the side gets this bonus.

All contributions are welcomed.

“You can’t live on $850 a month,” Jacobs said.

Jacobs is believed to have received about $20,000 as a bonus to sign and makes $850 a month, the standard salary. But he’s not in it for the big money . . . yet. This is a classroom that extends beyond the ballpark.

None of these players have been so far away from home before. They are dealing with more than just baseball. Jacobs lived on his own when he was at Fullerton, but it didn’t take much gas to get a home-cooked meal. Boise is a little too far for a laundry run.

On one hand, this isn’t like most backwater towns that have minor league teams. Boise is one of the fastest-growing cities in America and that takes an edge off the transition for a Southern California kid. On the other hand, the town isn’t Podunk cheap.

The team does what it can to defray the cost of living. Players are allowed to eat leftover food at the Hawks’ nest--the barbecue area at Memorial Stadium. Sandwiches and fruit are provided for pregame meals.

Bonuses--those negotiated from the organization and the spontaneous contributions from fans--help a player with his daily bread. But to survive, host families are arranged by the Boise team. Players live in their homes rent-free.

Fred and Susan Baker are Jacobs’ hosts. It is their first time.

“There was one player this year who they moved because he was allergic to the host family’s pet,” said Susan Baker, 58, who has an entire bedroom decorated in a baseball motif. “I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t get rid of the pet and keep the player. I told them that, but they didn’t laugh.

“When I was a kid, we lived near Derk’s Field [in Salt Lake City] and I was able to buy knothole cards. If you had a card, you could watch the game through holes in the left-field fence. There were many nights when someone had to come get me for dinner.

“Maybe next year we’ll have two players.”

A family is only required to provide a bed--Jacobs lives in the Bakers’ converted basement. Susan Baker makes him breakfast some mornings and also took him to the doctor when he was sick.

Her grandsons, Stephen, 10, and Holden, 6, get the rewards. Jacobs spends some of his free time with them and, during games, Stephen can usually be found down by the bullpen talking with Jacobs.

“The only thing that was unsettling was driving him to the ballpark,” Baker said. “The first day took me back 30 years. I felt like I was taking my son to Little League. I’m sure he felt the same way. The next day, I said he could take my car.”

In July Georgia Jacobs, Greg’s mother, dropped off a family vehicle and golf clubs--a necessity, Jacobs learned, for road trips. She didn’t know that was the plan until Greg told her, but she adjusted, arranging for a rental car to drive home.

“It’s driving me nuts not being there,” Georgia Jacobs said. “I’ve been at every game since he was 6. This has been his dream since he was in T-ball.”

Every Game’s an Education

Jacobs and his teammates were told to drop their heads and close their eyes by Manager Tom Kotchman before a game last month. The first-place Boise Hawks were on a four-game losing streak.

“After a few minutes, he said, ‘All right, look up.’ ” Jacobs said. “He had put on combat fatigues and had black stuff all over his face. He had on an army helmet and army boots and was holding a squirt gun. He started yelling, ‘It’s a war out there every night.’ ”

The Hawks went out and lost . . . 14-0.

Every game is a learning experience in the Northwest League.

At this level, teaching is more important than winning. Players have about the same ability level. Teams are limited to four players 23 or older. If you’re 23 and playing in this league, it’s probably time to get your resume in order. Very few stay beyond one year.

Of the 34 players with Boise last season, 17 advanced and three were demoted to Butte. The rest are not playing in the organization.

“Some days I tell them to hustle off the field and if they’re not moving fast enough, I yell, ‘It’s 47 degrees in Butte today,’ ” Kotchman said.

“This is the first time that a lot of these kids have failed in their life. They have to learn to be disciplined on the field and off. They have to make sacrifices. The guys who make those sacrifices are the ones who go far.”

Jacobs has made one already. He is no longer a hitter.

He was a designated hitter, as well as a pitcher, at Fullerton, and led the Titans with a .389 average. The Angels decided his future was as a relief pitcher.

“I think everyone realized he was a good hitter, but the quickest way for him to get to the big leagues is as a relief pitcher,” said Angel scout Steve Gruwell, who watched Jacobs at Fullerton. “Our basic opinion is he can get left-handers out in late-inning situations and help [the Angels] in a few years.”

The two quickest way to the major leagues, they say, is to be a catcher or a left-handed pitcher.

“The coaches tell me they will get fired if they let me take one swing [in batting practice],” Jacobs said. “They see me pick up a bat and they have a cow.”

So Jacobs is left to fidget in the bullpen, waiting to play. During games, he’s up, he’s down, he plays catch, he spits sunflower seeds, he gets up to get more sunflower seeds.

When he did get in a recent game, Jacobs did a pirouette over the first-base line.

Angel officials see Jacobs as a specialist, a pitcher who can be brought in to face left-handers.

“The thing I like about Greg is he shows a little tenacity out there and a little cockiness,” said Boise pitching coach Howie Gershberg, who has helped major league pitchers such as Frank Viola, Bret Saberhagen and John Franco.

“I watch a pitcher like him and see why he was drafted. I really don’t want to make any adjustments until the pitcher fails a little bit. Then he is going to ask for help and then he’s ready to be given advice and instruction.”

Jacobs is experiencing some failure. He is 3-2 with a 4.24 ERA. He is using a sidearm delivery to left-handed batters. It can be nasty, but changing arm angles has caused problems with his control. He has walked 20 in 23 1/3 innings.

Jacobs struck out South Oregon’s Chris Cosby, a lefty, on three pitches July 11. It was the only batter he faced and he got the victory when the Hawks rallied. He gave up three runs a week later when three of the five batters he faced reached, two on walks.

“Greg walked in with bleach-blond hair. Who cares?” Kotchman said. “He has to learn how to pitch and he’s learning.”

Good Player, Better Friend

Miles away, literally and figuratively, in the Angel clubhouse, Carew talked about Jacobs as a baseball player. He paused and said, “Now, do you want to know about him as a person?

“On Friday nights, when most 18-year-old boys were out on dates, Greg would come to the hospital to be with Michelle.”

Angel officials say they consider a player’s character before drafting him. In Jacobs’ case, they needed only to ask Carew.

“He would walk in the room and Michelle’s face would light up,” Carew said. “He would rub her feet and hold her. They would have four-hour phone conversations all the time.”

Jacobs and Michelle Carew were in the same class at Canyon. He flew to Minneapolis and was a pallbearer at her funeral. It’s a part of his life that Jacobs still carries. Her initials have been in his hat since college.

“They are there when I pitch and will be there forever,” Jacobs said. “She is one of my heroes. She had such strength and such enthusiasm. She knew the chances were low that she was going to make it. That didn’t affect her.

“She was fighting to be with her family and friends. You have to have a heart and a half to do that.”

Jacobs met Rod Carew as a kid wanting to learn to hit. Carew was giving private lessons then. The relationship grew, as did the ones Jacobs had with other Angels.

In Little League, Jacobs was called “Little Langston” because he was left-handed and his pitching motion was similar to Langston’s. Years later, Jacobs met Langston and the comparison stuck.

“I learned a lot just by watching him pitch,” Jacobs said. “I used my mom’s camera and made a collage for him. Each frame showed his pitching motion. I gave it to him and he gave me one of his plaques.”

Jacobs talks about the Angels he knows like most people talk about their favorite uncle.

There is no boasting in Jacobs’ voice. This was merely the neighborhood where he grew up; Anaheim Hills is where many of the Angels live.

Baseball was important to Jacobs before he developed those relationships. Jacobs, who played football and baseball at Canyon, comes from an athletic family.

His father, Darrel Tatem, was a catcher drafted by the San Francisco Giants in the 1960s. His stepfather, Doug Jacobs, was a receiver at Miami of Ohio in the late 1950s. Greg Jacobs started playing baseball when he was 2, when his grandfather took him to the park. He was a fast learner.

Said Doug Jacobs: “With Greg, you always have to expect the unexpected. I taught him to play golf and the first time we went out to play a round, he was hitting the ball 150 yards down the middle with junior clubs. He pushed one and it landed a foot or two from a very large tree. He said, ‘Dad, can’t I move the ball?’ I told him he had to play it. He borrowed my adult clubs, took a couple practice swings, then hit right-handed and drove the ball 150 yards down the middle. Greg is extremely unpredictable.”

Jacobs passed on signing out of high school. The Kansas City Royals and Chicago Cubs tried to sign him as a free agent. He was a 23rd-round pick by the Cubs in 1997, after playing two seasons at Cypress Community College.

“I felt I would be lost if I signed out of high school,” Jacobs said. “I didn’t have the knowledge I have now. I felt I was ready to go out and play the big game.”

Wasted Away in Boise-ville?

The game ended hours ago. The Hawks had beaten Southern Oregon, 4-3. Jacobs and several of his teammates head for Old Chicago, a restaurant/bar. It’s not food or drink they seek . . . well, it’s not food . . . but karaoke. They have been here before and will be again.

Hours later, Jacobs finishes off the evening by doing his best on a Jimmy Buffet song. His future might be as a pitcher. It’s definitely not as a singer.

His future as a pitcher is still unknown. Kotchman said the organization tends not to judge a player the first season.

“It’s an adjustment period,” Kotchman said. “Maybe a guy is putting too much pressure on himself. Maybe a guy is coming off a long college season. The off-season comes and he regroups mentally and physically. The next spring, he looks like a different player.”

Jacobs is adjusting. He could have returned to Fullerton for one more season. But he had to be here.

“I felt I was ready,” Jacobs said. “I didn’t want to be 22 years old and starting my career. I would have lost a year. This way, I’ll get [to the major leagues] one year sooner.”