Inside a whirlwind All-Star week with Indians legend Jim Thome
Zack Meisel 3h ago 5
CLEVELAND — Sean Casey had reached the most compelling part of the story — the part where he berates a bar full of dejected Cubs fans — when a man entered the room holding a slip of paper.
“Jerry, we’ve got a story going on here,” Casey shouted to longtime manager Jerry Manuel. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Manuel was simply delivering the National League’s lineup for the Futures Game. But when Casey gets rolling, there’s no stopping him. By the end of the tale, Jim Thome was hunched over, laughing. And he’s heard the story dozens of times.
It’s a common scene when old teammates and coaches congregate, and All-Star week in Cleveland represented one massive reunion. Thome was the busiest man in town, an ambassador with nearly 20 appearances over four days, and cameos in many of the main attractions at Progressive Field. Along the way, he traded barbs and stories with Carlos Baerga, Pedro Martinez, Ken Griffey Jr., Charlie Nagy, Charlie Manuel and so many others.
Consider Thome the tour guide for this whirlwind trip behind the scenes of an unforgettable All-Star week in Cleveland.
Saturday: 9:30 a.m.
As Thome headed to Dick’s Sporting Goods at Great Northern Mall, he received a tip: Eat at Swensons. Thome didn’t have time to visit his familiar haunts — he did dine downtown upon arrival Friday evening — but he placed Swensons on his priority list.
Jeff and Justin, a pair of 20-year-old locals, arrived at Dick’s nearly four hours before they met their idol. They were infants when Thome played in Cleveland, but they’ve watched the YouTube clips — the 52 home runs in 2002, the 500th career long ball in Chicago in 2007.
Thome and his family arrived in Cleveland on Friday. They dined at Urban Farmer, around the corner from the convention center, which hosted Play Ball Park all week. On Friday night, Thome peeked out his hotel room window to survey the scene, the hustle and bustle.
By the time Thome descended from the upstairs office to begin his New Era autograph signing, the line had stretched the length of the store.
“That’s the fun part,” Thome said. “You get to get out and meet people and hear all the great stories — ‘When I was a kid …,’ ‘I remember the ’90s …,’ ‘I remember Jacobs Field …,’ ‘I remember this walk-off …’ and ‘I remember Baerga doing this …’ That’s what it’s about.”
Speaking of Baerga, as he signed autographs, Thome was shown a video of Baerga — carefree as always — dancing at Play Ball Park.
“Oh, my gosh,” Thome said. “Baerga’s special.”
Saturday: 6 p.m.
After a few hours of appearances at the convention center, Thome trekked down the street to the Westin for a Futures Game meeting full of former teammates and coaches. When the two coaching staffs gathered on the sixth floor of the hotel, the banter began. Thome walked in with a guitar in his hand.
“Hey, Omar, now Thome’s a guitar player,” Baerga said to his former middle infield partner, Omar Vizquel. “Thome, is that what Charlie Manuel taught you?”
Thome, the American League manager, shook hands with National League manager Dennis Martinez, his former Cleveland teammate.
“Wait till you see my lineup,” Thome said.
The AL coaches — Thome, Casey, Juan Nieves, Nick Punto, Charlie Manuel and Ever Magallanes — assembled in a conference room. A flight delay prevented Dave Burba, the bullpen coach, from joining them. An MLB rep said the NL staff was guaranteeing a victory, to which Thome replied: “They don’t know what’s ahead of them.”
They prepared for the seven-inning exhibition as if the losing team faced a prison sentence. First, they mapped out a schedule for Sunday: when Thome would deliver his pregame speech, when the team would unite in center field for a photo, when they would take batting practice. At some point, Thome had to meet with MLB Network for 20 minutes to chat about his roster and his managerial strategy.
Then, they charted a course of action for the game. A few teams placed restrictions on their pitchers — a 30-pitch limit, for instance, or the preference to start a clean inning. One thing was certain: Yankees prospect Deivi Garcia would pitch the first inning. They marveled at his numbers on the projector screen.
“Big curveball,” said Nieves, who called Garcia later that night to inform him of his starting role.
Thome proceeded through his proposed lineup, topped by Rays wunderkind Wander Franco. He has watched White Sox outfielder Luis Robert — who Thome had just learned was being promoted to Class AAA Charlotte — and Angels outfielder Jo Adell in recent weeks.
“The ball just jumps off their bats,” he said. “It’s electric.”
When he reached the No. 7 spot in the order, he named Indians prospect Nolan Jones. Thirty years ago, Thome fit the same description: a lanky, lefty-hitting, righty-throwing third baseman with a knack for registering an eye-catching on-base percentage.
Daniel Johnson, another Tribe prospect, batted eighth.
“He has a hose,” Nieves said.
Manuel mentioned he watched Twins prospect Royce Lewis in southern California a couple of years ago. He noted a quick bat and a “good, smooth, free swing.”
“You watched him in California?” Punto asked.
“Yeah,” Manuel said.
“And you didn’t call me?” Punto asked.
“Nope,” Manuel replied.
Jim Thome, Sean Casey and Charlie Manuel. (David Richard / USA Today)
And what about signs? Several jokingly suggested a telescope motion for when to swing away at a 3-0 pitch.
“Thome could tell you,” Manuel said, “you had to hit the ball correctly (on 3-0). Don’t be hitting it the other way, slicing it into the dugout on the other side of the field. We’ve earned the right to swing the bat when it’s 3-0.”
And the prospects earned the right to take batting practice on a big-league field, which appealed to Manuel, the BP warlord.
“I’m a rep guy,” he said. “We gon’ hit. And we gon’ hit a lot. And we gon’ keep on hitting.”
“We used to hit early so much in Triple A,” Thome said, “we had two different sessions. We had an 11:30-1 session, and then we’d go have lunch, and then come back and have another session, and then actual batting practice. It’s all we knew.”
“Big lineups, big offenses, that right there creates the energy of the game for the pitcher and everything,” Manuel said. “It’s an attitude and it flows together.”
“Dang,” Punto said. “I’m ready to play.”
As the coaches finalized their plans, Casey shifted into storytelling mode. In 2004, the bumbling Reds won their final three contests at Wrigley Field at the end of September to spoil the Cubs’ wild-card chances, with the last two results coming in extra innings. The final tilt was a day game, so the Reds had to navigate Chicago rush hour traffic en route to the airport.
As the team bus idled behind hundreds of cars and cabs, Casey noticed a bar filled with fans wearing Cubs gear not too far from the ballpark. He begged the bus driver to let him off the bus and, while donning a suit, he strolled into the bar and shouted: “Hey, all you Cubs fans, the Cincinnati Reds just kicked your ass! Like they say in Chicago, better luck next season!”
Beaming with pride, Casey then realized he needed to bolt back to the bus to escape his rapid demise. Cubs fans chased him, but he sprinted back to his seat beside Barry Larkin.
When the laughter subsided, the meeting was adjourned.
Sunday: 5 p.m.
When Thome returned to Cleveland for a ’90s Indians reunion in 2015, he and his son Landon attended an NBA Finals game on the other side of the Gateway Plaza. Landon became a fan of LeBron James and the Cavaliers, and so what transpired at second base Sunday afternoon left the 11-year-old speechless, even two days later.
Landon pinch-hit for his father during the Celebrity Softball Game, and — with Thome, Baerga, Kenny Lofton and … Machine Gun Kelly all watching intently from a few feet outside the batter’s box, their hands on their knees — he smacked a single to center to score Cleveland teammate J.R. Smith. Landon advanced to second on the play, but instead of retreating to the dugout, Smith dashed to second to embrace Landon.
“It was a feeling, as a dad,” Thome said, “like, now I understand what the Boones felt like, the Griffeys. Those moments, he’ll have forever.”
And before the game, Thome draped his arm around his son as his daughter Lila performed the national anthem.
“I don’t know how she does it, to be honest,” Thome said, “to (stand) up there and have all those people and to be able to do that. That’s not from me. I’m not a singer. I can’t claim that one.”
After the softball exhibition, Thome morphed into manager mode. He sent Terry Francona a picture of him sitting at the Tribe skipper’s desk. When the two bumped into each other Tuesday afternoon, Thome thanked Francona for letting him use the office.
“Do you feel dumber?” Francona quipped. “Sit in that chair and you feel dumber.”
Rangers prospect Sam Huff slugged a game-tying two-run homer in the bottom of the seventh and the teams walked away deadlocked 2-2.
As Thome answered questions after the game, Griffey walked past and said, “You sound like a coach now.” Griffey and Thome rank seventh and eighth, respectively, on the all-time home-run list with a total of 1,242 homers.
Thome said he laughed so much in the dugout with Casey and Manuel, his stomach hurt.
“The best part of baseball is, no matter how long you step away from it,” he said, “when you get back with your boys, it’s almost like we were (playing) together again. Like, it felt a little bit like the ’90s. Baerga giving motivational speeches. Kenny’s walk-up song. You won’t forget it. The whole day was awesome.”
“The Miz,” J.R. Smith and Jim Thome. (Rob Tringali / Getty Images)
Monday: 3:30 p.m.
The MLB Network meeting room, a pop-up production shop situated in the lower levels of Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse, was barely large enough to fit a couch, two loveseats and a couple of TVs tuned to the network. It also contained decades of playing experience.
Pedro Martinez and Al Leiter compared the sizes and shapes of their fingers and explained the influence that had on their ability to command their pitches. Thome calculated the number of players on pace for 50 or more home runs this season (four, with two more on target for 49), and reminded Carlos Peña he hit 26 in each half in 2002, when he established his career high. The group watched several replays of the Sunday home-plate collision between Jake Marisnick and Jonathan Lucroy.
Harold Reynolds leaned over to say that this meeting was tame; typically, he and host Greg Amsinger would be at each other’s throats debating some baseball topic.
MLB Network’s pre-derby show would run from 6-8 p.m., with Amsinger, Leiter, Thome and Martinez featured on the main stage.
“Four-man desk, pretty strong,” producer Chris Roenbeck said. “We’re loaded. Talent everywhere.”
Reynolds pointed out that hitting masterminds Thome, Casey and Manuel all shared a dugout the previous night for a team that was getting blanked until the game’s final moments. He wished he had been within shouting distance.
“Know how much trash we would’ve talked?” he said.
Christian Yelich and Cody Bellinger were scheduled to join the crew in the second segment. Thome noted how both stand up straight when hitting, how Yelich has a long stride and how Bellinger relies on his hands. Sounds like a conversation topic for the segment.
Reynolds mentioned the plaque beyond center field that marks where Thome’s ballpark-record 511-foot blast cratered in 1999.
“The wind blew it,” Thome said. “I can’t hit a ball that far.”
Several of the players made the telescope motion.
Reynolds recalled how he first learned about the towering shot.
“The one time Jim Thome was not Mr. Humble,” Reynolds said, laughing and pointing toward the ceiling. “He was like, ‘It was out there.’”
Thome asked the group for their Home Run Derby predictions. He went with Mets rookie Pete Alonso, whose pitcher — his second-cousin, Derek Morgan — hails from nearby Copley, Ohio. (Thome switched his answer to Matt Chapman on the pregame show … oops.) Casey opted for Alonso.
“I’m going Vlad Jr.,” Martinez said. “This is a kid who at 14, 15 years old, challenged his dad to hit softballs out of a stadium, and beat his dad.”
That elicited responses of “No he did not!” and “What?!”
“I’m the godfather!” Martinez said. “I trust my godson to beat everybody. I’ll tell him to just think about it like you’re beating your dad.”
Thome conducted some final research, prepared some notes, changed into a gray suit and brown dress shoes — his handy black suitcase was his best friend this week — and headed out onto the field toward the main set.
As the “Intentional Talk” crew departed — including Kevin Millar, with a new red and green hairdo, courtesy of Francisco Lindor — stage manager Todd Bivona shouted instructions to the next wave of talent.
“Five fifty-seven! Let’s go!” he yelled.
As the four TV personalities found their seats and set up their microphones, Millar stood in front of the set and screamed at them.
Thirty seconds!
Twenty seconds!
As Millar’s countdown reached the five-second mark, Bivona tackled him to remove him from the camera shot.
During the opening segment, a wayward batting practice foul ball struck a network employee’s leg and caromed onto the back of the set. The direct hit required an ice pack.
Thome told Bellinger and Yelich, “You’re monsters, I love it,” and made note of their taller stances, which allows them to see the ball differently.
“Even a hungry turtle can do a jumping jack,” Yelich said.
Thome recorded a short demo in the batting cages and threw out the ceremonial first pitch to commence the Home Run Derby. From there, though Alonso emerged victorious, Guerrero stole the show.
“It was like a heavyweight bout,” Thome said about Guerrero’s hard-fought knockout of Joc Pederson in the semifinals. “They just kept going back and forth. They were exhausted.”
Tuesday: 11 a.m.
Against which pitcher did Thome notch his first career walk-off home run?
Which member of the Baltimore Orioles hit the pop-up that sailed into Thome’s glove near third base for the final out Sept. 8, 1995, vaulting the Indians to the AL Central title?
Those were two of the trivia questions that stumped Thome during an event with the Greater Cleveland Sports Commission late Tuesday morning.
(The answers: Toronto’s Scott Brow, on June 15, 1994, and Jeff Huson.)
Thome rode a few blocks in a golf cart to the Hilton, where he reunited with his family and Sandy Alomar Jr. and his family for the All-Star parade. The former Indians served as the grand marshals, the first to reach the red carpet that guided the players, clad in snazzy outfits, into Progressive Field.
Alomar wore a velvet suit jacket. Thome sported a navy suit, and he asked an MLB Network employee what Amsinger might be wearing.
“He’s usually a yellow guy,” Thome said.
Thome signed a few autographs and posed for photos on the red carpet, as Billy the Marlin — the only fish with arms and legs — waddled past. He shook hands with Hunter Pence, who explained to his significant other how Thome was one of his favorite players and then the two briefly became teammates in Philadelphia in 2012.
Thome finally had a chance to catch his breath Tuesday afternoon, before another production meeting, a couple of hours on set and one last meet-and-greet. Then, he joined Alomar and others in Mike Hargrove’s suite along the right-field line to watch the All-Star Game.
Alomar caught the ceremonial first pitch from former Indians hurler CC Sabathia. Later, the Tribe first-base coach congratulated Shane Bieber on matching his feat of capturing All-Star Game MVP honors in his home ballpark. The AL claimed its seventh consecutive Midsummer Classic, the culmination of a frenzied but fruitful week.
On Wednesday, Thome woke up, his itinerary for the day devoid of any responsibility. Telescope motion and all, he had his sights set on one thing: a burger from Swensons.