http://philadelphia.phillies.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/team/player.jsp?player_id=114031
Sal is awesome though.
Sal is awesome though.
Posted: Friday September 25, 2009 10:27AM; Updated: Friday September 25, 2009 2:45PM
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</TD><TD class=col1>Jeff Pearlman</TD><TD class=col2>></TD><TD class=col3>PEARLS OF WISDOM
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=col0>Journeyman Sal Fasano tried to hang on one more year for son
</TD><TD class=col1>Story Highlights
Catcher Sal Fasano was hoping for a call-up with Rockies this season
Fasano's son has a heart condition and he needs the MLB health plan
Fasano doesn't know how much minor league plan will cover son's surgery
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE class=cnnstorycontenttable cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=cnnstorycontentarea><TABLE class=cnninlineright style="WIDTH: 298px" cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD>
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>One day.
That's all Sal Fasano was hoping for this year.
One more day.
Fasano is a 38-year-old, once-spry catcher whose knees now throb and ache like a retired coal miner, whose bat speed has slowed and whose power has largely disappeared. For 17 seasons, beginning when the Kansas City Royals selected him out of the University of Evansville in the 37th round of the 1993 amateur draft, Fasano has lived for baseball. The texture of a chest protector. The sound of rawhide colliding with wood. The scent of hot dogs and popcorn in the stands. The cheers and the taunts. The hum of a 98-mph fastball, slamming into his glove.
Though he is, unambiguously, a journeyman (nine different Big League teams and a .221 lifetime average over 1,109 at-bats), Fasano has left an impression. In 1998, he led the American League by being hit by 16 pitches. In 2002, he won a World Series ring with the Anaheim Angels (granted, he only played in two games, striking out in his lone at-bat). Four years later, as a Phillie reserve, fans took a singular look at their new portly backstop with the fu-manchu mustache and bowler's physique and formed a fan club, Sal's Pals.
Mostly, Fasano is known throughout baseball as one of the truly good guys -- an honest, humble, friendly, blue-collar ballplayer who has never been accused of cheating and whose knowledge and decency makes him, in many minds, an obvious future manager.
Two years ago, just when Fasano was thinking of finally retiring, his wife, Kerri, gave birth to the couple's third child, a boy named Santo. He was born with hypoplastic heart syndrome, a condition in which the left side of the heart is underdeveloped. "It was devastating, of course," Sal says. "Your son is helpless, and there's not that much you can do."
There was one thing Sal could do -- find a way to remain in the major leagues. Although baseball diehards who salivate over the perks of the game tend to speak of cathedral-like stadiums and million-dollar paychecks, of fancy travel and high-profile endorsements and red carpet fame, an element they tend to overlook is the major league health plan. If you are a ballplayer, and you spend so much as a second on a major league roster, you are entitled to a year of coverage that, says one major league executive, "takes care of pretty much everything you can think of."
That's why, in 2007, Fasano was thrilled to spend 16 games with the Toronto Blue Jays. Last season, being called up by the Cleveland Indians in June was an answered prayer. "We need the coverage," Fasano says, noting that, thus far, Santo has undergone two surgeries exceeding $1 million in costs. "Playing major league baseball is awesome. I love it, I enjoy it. But this is about my family first. About Santo."
Alas, life -- and, as the nation is now learning, health care -- isn't always so simple. Fasano appeared in 15 games as a backup with the Indians last year, earning a little more than $300,000 before the organization let him go. Entering this season, he had the option of purchasing Cobra health coverage that would run him somewhere around $20,000, but would continue the high-level care. Fasano, whose family lives modestly in Minooka, Ill., says he and Kerri struggled with the decision, before deciding not to go that route. "People don't always understand the reality of a situation," Fasano says. "Yes, I made [decent money] last year. But I was taxed at 46 percent. To take a $20,000 chunk out of that is huge. We couldn't afford it"
So the Fasanos took a risk. Sal's agent, Barry Meister, called around the majors, looking for a team. Although the market for declining 38-year-old catchers wasn't great, Fasano still boasted some valuable upsides: Along with his attitude and approach, few call better games, and no catcher this side of Crash Davis is a more able tutor for young arms. As Tom Gordon, the longtime major league closer, once said, "There's nobody I'd rather throw to than Sal Fasano."
The Colorado Rockies bit, inviting Fasano to spring training, then sending him down to Triple-A Colorado Springs before Opening Day. According to Fasano, Dan O'Dowd, the team's general manager, told him, "Whenever we can, we're going to try and get you up to the bigs." For his part, O'Dowd insists his words were somewhat misconstrued. "I have a tremendous amount of respect for Sal, but I never told him he would definitely be called up," he says. "I told Sal that he did a terrific job in spring training, and that if he played well and was the best player at the time, he stood a good chance of being given an opportunity."
Whatever the case, as the season progressed and various catchers came and went through the Rockies' clubhouse, Fasano failed to get the call. Once, O'Dowd says, the team nearly brought him up, "but Sal had a sprained ankle at the time, and what good is an injured backup catcher? So it never happened. The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt Sal, but it was simply the case of being fair to our other catchers who were also working to be brought up here."
The result: misery. Fasano considers 2009 the worst professional season of his career. Yes, he says, Colorado Springs is a nice enough place. And yes, it was good to play alongside his longtime pal, pitcher Glendon Rusch, who back in the day rose through the Royals' minor league system alongside Fasano. But nearing 40, the romance of minor league ball, what with its dinky stadiums, sparse crowds, sparce accommodations and $20-per-day meal money, is long removed. One can only hear YMCA played during a dizzy bat race so many times.
"It's often hard to get out of bed ... hard to want to go to the field," says Fasano, who batted .236 with four home runs in 61 games. "This year I made $12,000 per month before taxes, and my wife is home with the kids, serving as a mother and a father. You can't help but question your sanity. You're driven by one thing -- hope."
Hope, sadly, is fleeting. A battered, fatigued, frustrated Fasano arrived home two weeks ago, just in time for Santo's second birthday on Sept. 21. Next Thursday, Santo will undergo his third -- and, hopefully, final -- major heart surgery. The Fasanos are uncertain how much of the operation, which will costs hundreds of thousands of dollars, will be covered by their minor league-provided health plan, which is far inferior to the MLB option.
"Look," Fasano says. "I played in the majors for parts of 13 years, and I thought I had one more run me. I believed this would all work out.
"I really believed."
Jeff Pearlman can be reached at anngold22@gmail.com.
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=col0>
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=col0>Journeyman Sal Fasano tried to hang on one more year for son
</TD><TD class=col1>Story Highlights
Catcher Sal Fasano was hoping for a call-up with Rockies this season
Fasano's son has a heart condition and he needs the MLB health plan
Fasano doesn't know how much minor league plan will cover son's surgery
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE class=cnnstorycontenttable cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=cnnstorycontentarea><TABLE class=cnninlineright style="WIDTH: 298px" cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TD>
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>One day.
That's all Sal Fasano was hoping for this year.
One more day.
Fasano is a 38-year-old, once-spry catcher whose knees now throb and ache like a retired coal miner, whose bat speed has slowed and whose power has largely disappeared. For 17 seasons, beginning when the Kansas City Royals selected him out of the University of Evansville in the 37th round of the 1993 amateur draft, Fasano has lived for baseball. The texture of a chest protector. The sound of rawhide colliding with wood. The scent of hot dogs and popcorn in the stands. The cheers and the taunts. The hum of a 98-mph fastball, slamming into his glove.
Though he is, unambiguously, a journeyman (nine different Big League teams and a .221 lifetime average over 1,109 at-bats), Fasano has left an impression. In 1998, he led the American League by being hit by 16 pitches. In 2002, he won a World Series ring with the Anaheim Angels (granted, he only played in two games, striking out in his lone at-bat). Four years later, as a Phillie reserve, fans took a singular look at their new portly backstop with the fu-manchu mustache and bowler's physique and formed a fan club, Sal's Pals.
Mostly, Fasano is known throughout baseball as one of the truly good guys -- an honest, humble, friendly, blue-collar ballplayer who has never been accused of cheating and whose knowledge and decency makes him, in many minds, an obvious future manager.
Two years ago, just when Fasano was thinking of finally retiring, his wife, Kerri, gave birth to the couple's third child, a boy named Santo. He was born with hypoplastic heart syndrome, a condition in which the left side of the heart is underdeveloped. "It was devastating, of course," Sal says. "Your son is helpless, and there's not that much you can do."
There was one thing Sal could do -- find a way to remain in the major leagues. Although baseball diehards who salivate over the perks of the game tend to speak of cathedral-like stadiums and million-dollar paychecks, of fancy travel and high-profile endorsements and red carpet fame, an element they tend to overlook is the major league health plan. If you are a ballplayer, and you spend so much as a second on a major league roster, you are entitled to a year of coverage that, says one major league executive, "takes care of pretty much everything you can think of."
That's why, in 2007, Fasano was thrilled to spend 16 games with the Toronto Blue Jays. Last season, being called up by the Cleveland Indians in June was an answered prayer. "We need the coverage," Fasano says, noting that, thus far, Santo has undergone two surgeries exceeding $1 million in costs. "Playing major league baseball is awesome. I love it, I enjoy it. But this is about my family first. About Santo."
Alas, life -- and, as the nation is now learning, health care -- isn't always so simple. Fasano appeared in 15 games as a backup with the Indians last year, earning a little more than $300,000 before the organization let him go. Entering this season, he had the option of purchasing Cobra health coverage that would run him somewhere around $20,000, but would continue the high-level care. Fasano, whose family lives modestly in Minooka, Ill., says he and Kerri struggled with the decision, before deciding not to go that route. "People don't always understand the reality of a situation," Fasano says. "Yes, I made [decent money] last year. But I was taxed at 46 percent. To take a $20,000 chunk out of that is huge. We couldn't afford it"
So the Fasanos took a risk. Sal's agent, Barry Meister, called around the majors, looking for a team. Although the market for declining 38-year-old catchers wasn't great, Fasano still boasted some valuable upsides: Along with his attitude and approach, few call better games, and no catcher this side of Crash Davis is a more able tutor for young arms. As Tom Gordon, the longtime major league closer, once said, "There's nobody I'd rather throw to than Sal Fasano."
The Colorado Rockies bit, inviting Fasano to spring training, then sending him down to Triple-A Colorado Springs before Opening Day. According to Fasano, Dan O'Dowd, the team's general manager, told him, "Whenever we can, we're going to try and get you up to the bigs." For his part, O'Dowd insists his words were somewhat misconstrued. "I have a tremendous amount of respect for Sal, but I never told him he would definitely be called up," he says. "I told Sal that he did a terrific job in spring training, and that if he played well and was the best player at the time, he stood a good chance of being given an opportunity."
Whatever the case, as the season progressed and various catchers came and went through the Rockies' clubhouse, Fasano failed to get the call. Once, O'Dowd says, the team nearly brought him up, "but Sal had a sprained ankle at the time, and what good is an injured backup catcher? So it never happened. The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt Sal, but it was simply the case of being fair to our other catchers who were also working to be brought up here."
The result: misery. Fasano considers 2009 the worst professional season of his career. Yes, he says, Colorado Springs is a nice enough place. And yes, it was good to play alongside his longtime pal, pitcher Glendon Rusch, who back in the day rose through the Royals' minor league system alongside Fasano. But nearing 40, the romance of minor league ball, what with its dinky stadiums, sparse crowds, sparce accommodations and $20-per-day meal money, is long removed. One can only hear YMCA played during a dizzy bat race so many times.
"It's often hard to get out of bed ... hard to want to go to the field," says Fasano, who batted .236 with four home runs in 61 games. "This year I made $12,000 per month before taxes, and my wife is home with the kids, serving as a mother and a father. You can't help but question your sanity. You're driven by one thing -- hope."
Hope, sadly, is fleeting. A battered, fatigued, frustrated Fasano arrived home two weeks ago, just in time for Santo's second birthday on Sept. 21. Next Thursday, Santo will undergo his third -- and, hopefully, final -- major heart surgery. The Fasanos are uncertain how much of the operation, which will costs hundreds of thousands of dollars, will be covered by their minor league-provided health plan, which is far inferior to the MLB option.
"Look," Fasano says. "I played in the majors for parts of 13 years, and I thought I had one more run me. I believed this would all work out.
"I really believed."
Jeff Pearlman can be reached at anngold22@gmail.com.
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http://blogs.thescore.com/fanatico/...man-interviews-former-mlb-catcher-sal-fasano/
Jeff Pearlman interviews former MLB catcher Sal Fasano[h=3]Posted by Jeff Pearlman under Sal Fasano, The Quazcast on Nov 05, 2013[/h]
Welcome to The Quazcast – a weekly podcast that brings listeners a frank conversation between myself and a random person from the world of sports.I might speak with a 90-year-old NFL kicker one week, the manager of a Major League Baseball team the next, and a bull fighter the week after that. The Quazcast is about digging deep and avoiding the cliché question and answers that too often plague sports interviews.
This week’s guest is former Major League catcher Sal Fasano. When I started covering MLB for Sports Illustrated I noticed a change in perspective from when I was a kid. The guys you start rooting for aren’t the stars. Very rarely are they the stars. Instead, the players you cheer for are the guys who are decent, who have a story behind them, who are willing to talk, and are mostly just nice guys. My favorite of all time was Sal Fasano.
Over 11 seasons, Fasano played for nine Major League teams, earning a reputation for his defensive abilities. Brian Johnson, a friend of mine, and another former Major Leaguer, said that Fasano probably had the best arm he’s ever seen on a catcher. After his fascinating career as a player ended, Fasano joined the Toronto Blue Jays system as a Minor League manager, and now as a roving catching instructor.
Below is an excerpt of our conversation, and a recording of our complete interview. To get future podcasts downloaded straight to your listening device, you can subscribe to The Quazcast on iTunes.
Jeff Pearlman: I teach college journalism, and I always tell my students, and they never believe me, that I would rather interview a guy like Sal Fasano, or a guy with your career, than Derek Jeter, or A-Rod, or whoever. I’ve always been fascinated by your career. So many nooks and crannies. I counted the number of stops in your career. You were drafted out of Evansville in the 37th round, 1993, by the Royals. Before your final stop in Colorado Springs in 2009, you had 36 different stops, that’s no misprint… 36 different stops. Could you name them in order, Sal? Is that even remotely possible?
Sal Fasano: I think I could, that would probably take up most of our time. I’ll just tell you a story about the funniest year that I had. I can’t remember exactly what year it was with Kansas City. I had just come back from the big leagues, I think it was ‘97. I’m sitting there… they told me I was going to go to AA, which is fine, because I’m still a young player. So I go to AA, I get my apartment set up. I get my phone, and my cable. A day later, we get rained out of our workout. Because It’s cold in Wichita at the time. A day later, I get the call that says I’m going to AAA… and I’m like wow, great. I just got set up here. And my wife is freaking out, mad. Because we’re going to have to do all this again. So I go up to Omaha, I’m there for one day. We get rained out of another workout, and I get called up to the big leagues.
JP: How was Omaha that day?
SF: Miserable. It hails every day in Omaha, or there’s a tornado somewhere. So in three days, I went to three different spots and didn’t even have a workout. And I’m thinking, I must have had a really good interview with the phone company.
JP: You impressed somebody! You were a special kind of player. They saw that in you immediately.
SF: Yeah, right.
JP: I thought you were going to tell one of my favorite stories ever from covering baseball. 2002, Sal Fasano spends the year…. you started in Salt Lake, then you played in Indianapolis, then you were in Durham. You played with the Angels… Do you wanna tell it?
SF: I started the year, I got invited to Tampa Bay for big league spring training. So I’m thinking I have a chance to make the team, and I don’t make the team, which is fine, and I go down to AAA. I’m having a pretty decent year, actually. And I don’t know if you remember Tampa Bay at the time, but they were really struggling financially.
JP: Right.
SF: Well, I get a chance to get called up because they’re sending Toby Hall down. And instead they call up the guy who was backing me up at the time, Paul Hoover. And no disrespect to Paul, he was a good player too, but he was my backup. But they called him up, because he was making the major league minimum. So I get frustrated, and I talk to, I think it was Cam Bonife at the time, and I say I really want my release. He said, no, they weren’t going to do it. And I said, look, you’ve lied to me a couple times, let’s not make it a third, just give me my release. We go back and forth and eventually they do, they give me my release. And I get out… and about 12 hours later I get a call, and Milwaukee wants to sign me. And they say, you’re going to go to AAA for a couple weeks, then we’re going to call you to the big leagues. So I go to Indy, and I play for a day, and the next thing you know they sign another catcher and they send him right to the big leagues. I’m furious at this point… I feel like I’ve just gotten hosed by Tampa Bay, and now I’m getting hosed by Milwaukee. I’m calling my agent, and I’m like… I’ve had enough. I want to quit. And Barry Meister, he talks me out of it. He says we’ll find something for you. About three weeks later, I end up getting traded to Anaheim, and I go to Salt Lake City. This is all just in a couple months span, and I’ve been to all these places.
Well Barry calls me and says go to Salt Lake, and it turns out, we’re pretty good. We’ve got guys like Chone Figgins, Alredo Amezaga, Francicso Rodriguez, there were a ton of great players. Sure enough, we’re in first place. We end up going to the playoffs, and losing in the championships. They were so gracious, they called us all to the big leagues. So now we’re in the big leagues, and they’re in the playoff hunt, so now we’re in the playoff hunt… and we make the playoffs. We’re all getting ready for the playoffs to start, I go out and I want to try some touchy throws to second base, and I go out to throw ten throws, and on the tenth throw, my elbow explodes. My ulnar collateral ligament explodes. So I don’t play, but one game… And it was pretty cool. I threw out Ichiro Suziki and Willie Bloomquist back-to-back. So that was pretty cool, but I only played one game. They kept me on the roster the whole time, but because I was hurt in the playoffs, I wasn’t active, but I was on the bench the whole time and we won the World Series.
JP: What I remember, Sal… I looked it up. You played in two games, and had one at bat. You struck out. After a team wins the World Series, there’s a big brouhaha, and Tim Salmon is hugging Garrett Anderson, and Mike Scioscia is hugging Kevin Appier. And I’m standing in this clubhouse, and I’ve never covered the Angels before, and I’ve got my notepad out because I’m trying to write down what’s going on… and here comes Sal Fasano, who tells me he doesn’t really know that many people on the team, and he’s really happy to see me standing there. It was the longest conversation I’ve ever had with a winning player, who has just won the World Series. Because it was so unique for you… did you feel like you had won? What did that feel like?
SF: No… that was pretty awkward.
To hear the entire interview – including Fasano explaining the physical toll that catching takes, differentiating between PEDs and greenies and balancing winning with development as a Minor League manager - you can download the podcast here or listen below.
Jeff Pearlman interviews former MLB catcher Sal Fasano[h=3]Posted by Jeff Pearlman under Sal Fasano, The Quazcast on Nov 05, 2013[/h]
Welcome to The Quazcast – a weekly podcast that brings listeners a frank conversation between myself and a random person from the world of sports.This week’s guest is former Major League catcher Sal Fasano. When I started covering MLB for Sports Illustrated I noticed a change in perspective from when I was a kid. The guys you start rooting for aren’t the stars. Very rarely are they the stars. Instead, the players you cheer for are the guys who are decent, who have a story behind them, who are willing to talk, and are mostly just nice guys. My favorite of all time was Sal Fasano.
Over 11 seasons, Fasano played for nine Major League teams, earning a reputation for his defensive abilities. Brian Johnson, a friend of mine, and another former Major Leaguer, said that Fasano probably had the best arm he’s ever seen on a catcher. After his fascinating career as a player ended, Fasano joined the Toronto Blue Jays system as a Minor League manager, and now as a roving catching instructor.
Below is an excerpt of our conversation, and a recording of our complete interview. To get future podcasts downloaded straight to your listening device, you can subscribe to The Quazcast on iTunes.
Jeff Pearlman: I teach college journalism, and I always tell my students, and they never believe me, that I would rather interview a guy like Sal Fasano, or a guy with your career, than Derek Jeter, or A-Rod, or whoever. I’ve always been fascinated by your career. So many nooks and crannies. I counted the number of stops in your career. You were drafted out of Evansville in the 37th round, 1993, by the Royals. Before your final stop in Colorado Springs in 2009, you had 36 different stops, that’s no misprint… 36 different stops. Could you name them in order, Sal? Is that even remotely possible?
Sal Fasano: I think I could, that would probably take up most of our time. I’ll just tell you a story about the funniest year that I had. I can’t remember exactly what year it was with Kansas City. I had just come back from the big leagues, I think it was ‘97. I’m sitting there… they told me I was going to go to AA, which is fine, because I’m still a young player. So I go to AA, I get my apartment set up. I get my phone, and my cable. A day later, we get rained out of our workout. Because It’s cold in Wichita at the time. A day later, I get the call that says I’m going to AAA… and I’m like wow, great. I just got set up here. And my wife is freaking out, mad. Because we’re going to have to do all this again. So I go up to Omaha, I’m there for one day. We get rained out of another workout, and I get called up to the big leagues.
JP: How was Omaha that day?
SF: Miserable. It hails every day in Omaha, or there’s a tornado somewhere. So in three days, I went to three different spots and didn’t even have a workout. And I’m thinking, I must have had a really good interview with the phone company.
JP: You impressed somebody! You were a special kind of player. They saw that in you immediately.
SF: Yeah, right.
JP: I thought you were going to tell one of my favorite stories ever from covering baseball. 2002, Sal Fasano spends the year…. you started in Salt Lake, then you played in Indianapolis, then you were in Durham. You played with the Angels… Do you wanna tell it?
SF: I started the year, I got invited to Tampa Bay for big league spring training. So I’m thinking I have a chance to make the team, and I don’t make the team, which is fine, and I go down to AAA. I’m having a pretty decent year, actually. And I don’t know if you remember Tampa Bay at the time, but they were really struggling financially.
JP: Right.
SF: Well, I get a chance to get called up because they’re sending Toby Hall down. And instead they call up the guy who was backing me up at the time, Paul Hoover. And no disrespect to Paul, he was a good player too, but he was my backup. But they called him up, because he was making the major league minimum. So I get frustrated, and I talk to, I think it was Cam Bonife at the time, and I say I really want my release. He said, no, they weren’t going to do it. And I said, look, you’ve lied to me a couple times, let’s not make it a third, just give me my release. We go back and forth and eventually they do, they give me my release. And I get out… and about 12 hours later I get a call, and Milwaukee wants to sign me. And they say, you’re going to go to AAA for a couple weeks, then we’re going to call you to the big leagues. So I go to Indy, and I play for a day, and the next thing you know they sign another catcher and they send him right to the big leagues. I’m furious at this point… I feel like I’ve just gotten hosed by Tampa Bay, and now I’m getting hosed by Milwaukee. I’m calling my agent, and I’m like… I’ve had enough. I want to quit. And Barry Meister, he talks me out of it. He says we’ll find something for you. About three weeks later, I end up getting traded to Anaheim, and I go to Salt Lake City. This is all just in a couple months span, and I’ve been to all these places.
Well Barry calls me and says go to Salt Lake, and it turns out, we’re pretty good. We’ve got guys like Chone Figgins, Alredo Amezaga, Francicso Rodriguez, there were a ton of great players. Sure enough, we’re in first place. We end up going to the playoffs, and losing in the championships. They were so gracious, they called us all to the big leagues. So now we’re in the big leagues, and they’re in the playoff hunt, so now we’re in the playoff hunt… and we make the playoffs. We’re all getting ready for the playoffs to start, I go out and I want to try some touchy throws to second base, and I go out to throw ten throws, and on the tenth throw, my elbow explodes. My ulnar collateral ligament explodes. So I don’t play, but one game… And it was pretty cool. I threw out Ichiro Suziki and Willie Bloomquist back-to-back. So that was pretty cool, but I only played one game. They kept me on the roster the whole time, but because I was hurt in the playoffs, I wasn’t active, but I was on the bench the whole time and we won the World Series.
JP: What I remember, Sal… I looked it up. You played in two games, and had one at bat. You struck out. After a team wins the World Series, there’s a big brouhaha, and Tim Salmon is hugging Garrett Anderson, and Mike Scioscia is hugging Kevin Appier. And I’m standing in this clubhouse, and I’ve never covered the Angels before, and I’ve got my notepad out because I’m trying to write down what’s going on… and here comes Sal Fasano, who tells me he doesn’t really know that many people on the team, and he’s really happy to see me standing there. It was the longest conversation I’ve ever had with a winning player, who has just won the World Series. Because it was so unique for you… did you feel like you had won? What did that feel like?
SF: No… that was pretty awkward.
To hear the entire interview – including Fasano explaining the physical toll that catching takes, differentiating between PEDs and greenies and balancing winning with development as a Minor League manager - you can download the podcast here or listen below.
