June 8,2007

Baseball draft diary

By ADAM MAYA

CORONA — Christian Colón is nestled on his couch, a Louisville Slugger baseball bat in his hands. It is a few minutes past 11 a.m. Thursday and Major League Baseball’s amateur draft is about to begin.

The draft, televised for the first time, marks a holiday of sorts at the Colón household, as Christian’s mother and father watch with their oldest son, along with his two younger brothers. The younger two actually appear to be ingeniously taking advantage of a day off from school.

The Tampa Bay Devil Rays are officially on the clock.

Five minutes pass and one thing becomes clear: If the Devil Rays, who probably knew what player they would draft days ago, or at least hours ago, are spending all five of their minutes on the clock, it is going to be a long afternoon.

Commissioner Bud Selig then jumbles the following: “With the first selection in the first round of the 2007 first-year player draft…”

It is really going to be a long afternoon. Watching Colón gaze at the TV, his future up in the air, I ask him if he’s nervous.

“Nah, anxious,” says the Canyon shortstop, projected to be taken anywhere from the latter part of the first round to the third round. “Anxious, more than anything.”

With the No 3 pick, the Chicago Cubs select Cypress third baseman Josh Vitters. This gives the room some positive energy. Vitters becomes the first player to be televised walking to the podium and shaking hands with Selig. We’re going to have a lot of firsts today, I’m guessing.

Three picks later, the Washington Nationals select Ross Detwiler of Missouri State. In his post-draft interview, after being told he will need to put on some weight, Detwiler says he hasn’t tried any crazy weight-gaining methods, he just eats five-to-six meals a day. Right.

After eight picks, Colón steps out of the room for a minute and his father asks how many high school players have been taken. “Two,” Colón replies intently.

The Seattle Mariners then take Phillippe Aumont with the 11th pick. Aumont is from Canada and looks exactly like Oli, “The King of Swing” from the 2005 film Hostel, which amuses Colón and really amuses me (probably since I pointed it out).

When announcing the 20th pick, Selig pronounces mispronounces Los Angeles twice, calling it “Los Angeleez.”. More positive energy in the room.

“Five-9, 150 pounds!” he remarks.

While that is smaller than me, Revere is apparently regarded as the best athlete in the draft.

“We thought we were going in the first round,” Colón says.

By “we” he means himself and El Modena’s Freedie Freeman, whom he has been trading texts with most the afternoon.

During the intermission between the first round and the compensation round, Colón watches attentively as former Cincinnati Reds shortstop Barry Larkin tells how the Reds drafted him out of high school in the second round. Larkin says the reds told him they knew his family didn’t have a lot of money and if he signed he would be financially secure. Larkin, believing he could improve his draft stock in college, opted to go to Michigan. Three years later he was taken fourth overall … by the Reds.

Midway through the compensation round, Colón, now sensing my frustration, says: “This happens. The draft is crazy.” Great, he’s consoling me.

We then have a spirited conversation about college life.

Midway through the second round things finally get interesting. Freeman has just sent Colón a text saying the Atlanta Braves are taking him at 78. I had actually predicted Atlanta would take Colón a few minutes earlier. Then Colón receives a text from the Braves.

“You are our next pick so stay close to your phone. We want you and Fredy (sic) to play together.”

The word “next” confuses Colón and I. The Braves do not draft again until the 108th pick, and there has not been one trade made the entire day. Well, the word we should have focused on was “our” because, after the Braves select Freeman, it becomes evident that what they meant was, “We’ll take you in the third round.” As the second round concludes, things are quiet again.

And then they aren’t.

Several teams begin contacting Colón, ready to make him their third-round pick. But it’s all for naught. Colón and his father have predetermined a minimum starting point for a contract and, now a third-round selection, Colón is not going to see it.

The League has actually constructed a value for every slot in the draft. It is not mandatory that the teams abide by it but are encouraged to stay near it and, reportedly, they do.

Colón spends the next 15 minutes telling each prospective team thanks but no thanks. Afterward, he hugs his father, who handled all the phone calls, and thanks him.

“I think I’ll be going to college,” pronounces Colón, which leaves me to think the 18-year old — a scholarship awaiting him at Cal State Fullerton — has just made the most mature decision of his life.