Gomez just goes and goes and goes and…
KISSIMMEE, Fla. — You look for a nearby electrical plug. You search for a portable charger. Then you turn your eyes upward and stare into the blinding overhead sun.
Where does his endless energy come from? How is he always so on all of the time? Does he even have a temporary off switch?
I’ve spent the last six days following Carlos Gomez from the Astros’ clubhouse to the side fields of Osceola County Stadium, the Washington Nationals’ spring-training complex and beyond. The only answer is absolutely, 100 percent, positively no.
If the Astros are electricity, Gomez is the lightning rod. And being Carlos “Sexy” Gomez means never ever going dark.
You already know these Astros are fun with a capital F. But what you should really knowis that a 30-year-old who played all of 41 games for baseball’s 2015 shocker is the biggest kid on the team’s merrygo-round and will always be having too much fun to
get kicked off.
“I try to be me and enjoy me. And it’s contagious. My teammates see me happy all the time and with energy. They say, ‘I want to be like that. Why that guy so happy?’ ” said Gomez, whose uniform was covered in thick red dirt after bouncing on, around and off first base for just a few minutes Wednesday during the fourth inning of the Astros’ 7-3 loss to Detroit.
Ask Gomez when he first became like this, and he doesn’t remember. All he knows is he always has been.
“I get in trouble in school,” said a 10th-year vet entering a contract season with a potential World Series contender. The fun never stops
Gomez is one-fifth of the club’s critical Team Venezuela contingent. He’s a complete crackup during stretching drills, a hilarious jokester behind the batting cage, and a charming mosquito buzzing around manager A.J. Hinch’s ear any time the Astros are trying to get a little serious work done.
The Astros held bunting drills Tuesday. They instantly became a free-for-all, with Gomez running the circus.
“What the ____?” the center fielder shouted when a just-fired baseball sailed high and away.
Gomez was soon posing for a Game 7 walkoff grand slam photo for 10 seconds, despite the fact no one was paying attention and he hadn’t swung his bat. Then he waved his baton like an unbreakable wand, pushed his butt as far away from the plate as possible, and swaggered in the dirt like salsa music was in the mid-March air.
Gomez also casually dropped dow nold-school baseball perfection, with smooth bunts gently falling off his stick and gliding down imaginary first- and third-base lines.
If Gomez weren’t any good, he’d be absolutely annoying. But he’s dripping with five-tool talent.
“All the things that you see, it’s pretty authentic. It’s him,” Hinch said. “He’s that classic guy that can drive you nuts when you play against him and then you enjoy it when he’s in your foxhole.”
Pat Neshek knows the truth. The righthanded reliever twice has been a teammate of Gomez. He was also on the other side of the wall when Gomez was a ridiculous Brewer and Neshek’s spirit was tied to St. Louis’ heart.
“Whenwewere trying to get him, a lot of guys were asking me, ‘What’s he like?’ ” Neshek said. “Because when I played for the Cardinals, everybody hated him— everybody on the team. And I said, ‘You know, he’s really funny, man. You guys would like him if you were on the same team.’ (They said), ‘No. I couldn’t see that.’ ”
At one point, neither could Neshek.
“I hated him, too,” he said. “I hated playing against him.”
John Smoltz’s worldview of the Astros’ Big Sexy was forever changed Wednesday morning. Before Gomez spoke with a Hall of Fame righty now living on the other side of the professional line, Smoltz knew just the salacious side of No. 30: flashy, way over the top, in your face with too much junk.
Then a brief TV interview with the offensive and defensive centerpiece of the Astros’ outfield turned Smoltz’s light on. Gomez was real, down to earth, and completely genuine. He also lacks the filter that turns so many overly paid pros into cookie-cut props.
“I just interviewed him knowing that he’s a guy that’s high on life,” Smoltz said. “And I love those kinds of guys.”
It’s not that the Astros will tolerate Gomez’s kookiness as long as he reaches the 130-game mark and stays on the field from April through October. They want it all. The constant spark and endless fire. The comedy routine that comes for free. The bat cracks and flips, dirty dives back into first, second-base swipes, and warning-track leaps. Grateful to the game
If you catch a random “highlight” of Gomez dabbing, finger-pointing at the Astros’ dugout, or jawing with another team that has long hated his guts, you’ll instantly think he’s a modern fool dragging downa cherished old game. But if you let Gomez grow on you, spend a week in his shadow and see what he means to Jose Altuve, George Springer, Colby Rasmus and the 2016 Astros, you’d see the real meaning of being so darn sexy all the time.
Baseball’s a game, and baseball is life. Gomez bleeds both. And as long as the sun is plugged in, he’s fully charged.
“Baseball give methe opportunity to be who I am right now. So every single day I pray,” he said. “I say, ‘Thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you to give methe opportunity to be a baseball player.’
“Every time I step on the field, I feel like it’s a dream come true. I feel like it’s a new game, my first game every time.”
That’s what they all should say, right?
That’s how this sport is supposed to be played.