BLUE JAYS POLISH FUTURE GEMS
Sparkling Guerrero Jr. says his goal is to be the same, better than his illustrious father
The Bobby Mattick Training Center is nestled in residential Dunedin, across from Serenity Lane and next to Cottonwood Terrace. It’s a pretty casual scene, with several diamonds at which dozens of Blue Jays prospects run through drills under the eyes of coaches from Toronto’s minorleague teams.
The sound system in the middle of it all plays 107.3 The Eagle, “Tampa Bay’s classic hits.” Journey’s Faithfully echoes over the scene, and then a Jays coach blares an air horn to signal a drill change, which is a bit rude to Steve Perry.
But though it feels like summer camp, this is also where the Blue Jays are polishing some of their finest gems. One of them, with floppy dreadlocks held back somewhat by an Under Armour headband, and wearing a Jays spring training T-shirt with the slogan “Get Stronger,” walks into the front lobby and peers into the trophy case at the Mattick Center.
There is Kevin Pillar’s MVP award from his year with the Lansing Lugnuts, Dalton Pompey’s minor-league Gold Glove, and Carlos Delgado’s MVP trophy with the Knoxville Smokies.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” says Vladimir Guerrero Jr. He looks like his dad.
He also looks like a kid, which he is. Guerrero turns 18 this week, meaning he will be able to legally buy alcohol in the province of his birth. He was born just before the 1999 season in Montreal, where his father would hit .316 with 42 home runs for the Expos and make the first of nine all-star appearances.
It is quite the lineage, and it is part of the reason why Guerrero, even though he still can’t grow much of a beard, is one of the best prospects in the sport. That and the fact that he can murder a baseball.
Guerrero, speaking through a translator, Blue Jays coach Rafael Dubois, says he doesn’t feel any extra pressure to perform because of his famous father.
“My goal is to be the same as him, or even better, and I try to play my game with the same intensity, to do the same things he used to do.”
So far, the similarities are hard to miss. In his first full season in the pros last year after signing a US$3.9-million contract with Toronto in the summer of 2015, Guerrero hit .271 with eight home runs in 62 games for the Bluefield Blue Jays in the Appalachian League. He was also still wearing braces on his teeth. Like his father, he’s a free swinger who doesn’t miss often, with almost as many walks (33) as strikeouts (35).
“His raw power is unreal,” says Aaron Matthews, the hitting coach with the Bluefield team. “You see him hit balls that you don’t see double-A and triple-A guys hit.”
Asked what makes Guerrero’s power unusual — lots of guys can hit the ball a long way — Matthews says: “It’s the speed of the ball off the bat. The sound of it. It is impressive.”
“Batting practice,” he says, “is amazing to watch.”
Matthews says he doesn’t see a kid who is struggling to live up to his father’s reputation, or to the hefty contract he signed when he was just 16 years old. “He’s an unbelievably great kid,” he says. “I think he loves the fact that his dad will be a hall of famer. I just think he learned a lot being around those guys.”
Other than his uncanny knack for hitting home runs off balls that were not in the strike zone, Vlad Senior was known for the joy with which he played the game, and his constant smile. When Guerrero is asked if he feels the same way about the sport, he immediately grins. “Si, si,” he says. “I grew up watching my dad play, that was my life.”
He says that he was speaking this week to his six-year-old brother Pedro, who told him that he wants to be a baseball player, too. “He’s in that world, that environment of baseball, and he has the same love that I had.”
Guerrero was five years old when his father left the Expos for a free-agent contract with Anaheim. Does he remember anything about his days in Canada? “Not really, but I remember some things,” he says. “It was a little cold.”
It will likely be some time before Guerrero experiences the Canadian chill again. Though he skipped the Gulf Coast League that is the normal first stop for teenagers from Latin America, he’s unlikely to move past A-ball this year. But it’s not unimaginable that he could be pushing for a major-league job — he plays third base, but could move to a corner outfield spot — by the time he’s 20.
“Of course he has the God-given hitting abilities,” says Matthews, “but he learns very quickly. If he sees a pitcher for the second time, he will remember what that pitcher threw him the first time. You don’t see that in teenagers.”
Guerrero says he is in no hurry. “I really don’t care where I play this year, because it’s up to them,” he says.
“I’m trying to give 100 per cent every day and trying to be better every day.”
Yes, you can tell he’s been around pro baseball players before.
His raw power is unreal. You see him hit balls that you don’t see double-A and triple-A guys hit. It’s the speed of the ball off the bat. The sound of it.