2017 Reds / 2017 Spring Training

Postcard From Goodyear: Farewells and Reunions

Editor’s Note: I hope you will join me in welcoming Clay Marshall to the Redleg Nation family. Clay is an exceptionally talented writer, and I’m really excited that he’ll be giving us his thoughts from the west coast this season. Please make Clay feel welcome! — Chad Dotson


“You say yes, I say no
You say stop, and I say go
You say goodbye, and I say hello”
–The Beatles, “Hello, Goodbye”

In the languages of many cultures around the world, there are words that mean both hello and goodbye. In Hawaii, people greet and part by saying “aloha.” In Italy and France, they do the same with “ciao” and “salut,” respectively. Fijians, meanwhile, use the word “bula” not just for hello and goodbye, but also for welcome, love, life, and cheers.

After spending Friday and Saturday in Goodyear, I wish there were a similar multipurpose English word to convey the mixed emotions I currently feel as a fan. Although injuries to Homer Bailey and Anthony DeSclafani will likely make the first few weeks of this season just as unpleasant as they were last year, I can’t help but get excited that the Reds will play six of every seven days between now and October. Still, while I fully support the rebuild, it was bittersweet to be in Arizona and not see several familiar faces from previous spring training trips.

Yes, I realize that’s life in modern-day major league baseball, where only 15 active players (including two Reds) have remained on the same team for a decade or longer. The winds of change feel more noticeable to me this year, though, because my son’s favorite player no longer wears red. On each of my past two spring training weekenders (trips I undertook without my family), I managed to convince Brandon Phillips to film short video greetings for my son, which I figured he’d appreciate more than a souvenir t-shirt he’d quickly outgrow. As a fan who’s anxious for the Reds to turn the corner, I was ecstatic when Phillips accepted his trade to Atlanta last month, but as a father, I felt sad for my son. Take it from me — there’s no easy way to explain bad contracts, service time and blocked prospects to an 8-year-old.

Seeing the Phillips trade through my son’s eyes reminded me of the heartbreak I felt when my own childhood hero was traded. While vacationing over Thanksgiving weekend at the age of 13, I can clearly recall watching SportsCenter one night and hearing that Eric Davis had been traded to the Dodgers. I couldn’t believe it — just 13 months earlier, his 1st inning home run off Dave Stewart set the pace for Cincinnati’s Cinderella World Series sweep. Four years before that, when he slugged a game-winning 9th inning grand slam in the first baseball game I can remember watching, he was the reason I became a Reds fan in the first place. Soon, his posters adorned my bedroom walls; his baseball cards filled two separate binders; his #44 graced the jerseys of every sport I played (or at least the ones where I could choose my number). Now, he was gone.

As the offseason progressed, I found myself torn — I wanted Davis to succeed in Los Angeles, but I was never able to become comfortable with the idea of rooting for another team, especially one in the Reds’ own division. (As longtime fans will recall, it wasn’t until the realignment of 1994 that Cincinnati moved out of the NL West.) And while I didn’t obsess over their stats to the extent I did with Davis, I still loved watching and cheering on players such as Barry Larkin, Hal Morris, Chris Sabo and Paul O’Neill and ultimately decided to continue doing so. Accordingly, it’s possible that Davis not only made me a Reds fan, but that his trade, unpleasant as it was, cemented that fandom for life.

That doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy — OK, ecstatic — when he returned to Cincinnati in 1996. And even though I understand the reluctance of those concerned that he’ll be this year’s Kevin Gregg or Alfredo Simon, I’m similarly happy to see Bronson Arroyo back in a Reds uniform. I fully supported letting him walk after the 2013 season, but I remember thinking at the time that if Jamie Moyer could still pitch at age 49, it wasn’t out of the question for “Saturn Nuts” to end up back in Cincinnati after his contract with Arizona ran its course.

Ignoring the manner in which he exited Saturday’s game, it was fun to watch him pitch again — the leg kick, the craftiness and, yes, the hair — and I found myself looking forward to learning the similar quirks of the new and soon-to-be Reds who will anchor the rebuild. More importantly, following a 20-month stretch in which we’ve bidden farewell to Phillips, Johnny Cueto, Todd Frazier, Aroldis Chapman, Mike Leake, and Jay Bruce, seeing Arroyo on the mound felt like something of a security blanket as we head toward another turbulent season. Time will tell if he can successfully bridge the past with the future, but for now, I find it hard not to root for him.

(I admit I have my own selfish reasons for cheering on Arroyo. The day my wife’s ultrasound revealed that we’d have a son, I made a list of at least 50 potential names. For some reason, I decide to include Bronson — and much to my surprise, as my wife and I proceeded to play Baby Name Survivor, that ended up being the last name left standing.)

While I wasn’t able to shoot any video greetings for my son this year, the baseball circle of life works in mysterious ways, and the one autograph I managed to score for him before Saturday’s game was that of Phillips’ second base successor, Jose Peraza. As I have no desire to raise a Braves fan, I hope that memento will help encourage him to say aloha — that is, farewell to the past and hello to the future. As for me, the one player I sought out isn’t on the current active roster, but as I shook his hand, I thanked him for playing the game the way he did and told him how happy I was to see him still wearing a Reds uniform today. “I still bleed red,” Davis told me — a comforting reminder, as with Arroyo’s return, that not every goodbye we say as fans is forever.

23 thoughts on “Postcard From Goodyear: Farewells and Reunions

  1. Welcome Clay. You took me down my own memory lane, as I remembered my own first experience of having my favorite player traded. It is a sad fact that today’s baseball world is more about about contracts and blah, blah, blah. I feel for your Bronson, because when all else is scraped away baseball should be for kids.

    • Thanks for reading! The good news is that 8-year-olds seem to be more resilient and take things less personally than a teenager with a chip on his shoulder, so I don’t think I’ll have to endure seeing/hearing him do the Tomahawk Chop any time soon.

  2. Great article! made me think of many Reds that have come and gone and how I felt when the ones I really liked left.

  3. Aloha and Bula to you Clay.
    Trading Eric Davis ranks up there with the ones that hurt. Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, Pete Rose. I was too young on the Frank Robinson trade to remember that pain.
    Only 15 players that are active that have spent a decade or longer on the same team? That is incredible. That is something that should not be so scarce.
    “Saturn Nuts”? I had forgotten that story.

    • Thanks for your kind words! I’ll do my best not to stink up the joint.

  4. I was a kid when “an old 30” Robinson was traded. I followed him through his career as an Oriole, but as Clay said, I still remain a Reds fan.

    • Bringing up Robinson makes me wonder how it would have felt to see Davis go on to a long, successful, HOF-worthy career in L.A. Selfishly, maybe I’m lucky that I only saw him in his prime. (I always hated it when he ended up on the DL, so ’92-’94 would have been tough to endure.)

  5. With your name being Clay, your subject matter is certainly appropriate to me. The player I liked maybe more than someone should was Clay Carroll. It hurt to see him go. Welcome aboard!

    • Thanks! Never considered how it might feel to cheer someone named Clay wearing a Reds uniform — although I can’t say I felt a special affinity toward Sean Marshall. Was kinda fun seeing the name on the back of the jersey, though.

  6. It’s funny how/why we become fans of any given team. A certain player just speaks to us – whether it be how he carries himself, a dramatic moment, or a hustle play when nobody’s watching. There is no doubt that Eric Davis was a fan’s player! He played hard every day and left it all on the field.

    Such quick hands. I remember announcers commenting that he held his hands too low at bat and that approach would never make it long-term. How wrong they were.

    It’s great that he’s in a Reds uniform and interacting with the fans. He brought us a championship and for that alone, he goes down as a great Cincinnati Red!

    Thanks for the article.

    • Thanks for the comment! If, during that game I remember watching as a 7-year-old, Davis had struck out instead of hitting a game-winning grand slam and someone on the Pirates hit a walk-off homer, it’s hard to fathom the degree to which my life might be different today.

  7. I felt the same way on a cold December day in 1976 when the Reds traded Tony Perez.

  8. My traumatic trade experience was Big Klu. I was 10 and cried plenty. I still have pics of the big guy in my man cave.And welcome to the nation, I will look forward to many more fine writings.

    • Appreciate the welcome! I can relate about the man-cave (which in my case is better classified as “random piles of junk that I’ve never thrown out”). I know I still have a few of Davis’ Starting Lineup figures in there somewhere!

  9. Great article, I feel like you really capture the highs and lows of baseball fandom. Even though I understand the reasons behind trades, it still hurts. The past couple of years losing Cueto, Bruce, Brandon, and others has been pretty rough on the ol’ heartstrings. Your description of Arroyo as a security blanket is exactly right-I love my Reds and will always root for them, but it’s hard when so many faces are new ones and the prospects for the year are pretty dim. Cheers and Aloha!

    • Thanks for reading! In retrospect, as per the YouTube video linked in an earlier comment, I probably should have compared Arroyo to a red-hooded sweatshirt instead.

  10. Welcome Clay! Very nice first piece here. I like your writing style and with the rebuild, the topic was on point.

  11. Nice work, Clay! Reminded me of a day many years ago, arriving home from school and hearing that Dick Wagner had fired Sparky Anderson. I just couldn’t believe it. I remember I had no idea what to do or how to feel. It was my first experience as a young fan with my team making an absolutely stupid move and realizing there was nothing I could do about it but accept it.

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