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03/26/2002 - Updated 10:39 PM ET Pena's refrain: I can only be me
They've been touting the guy for several years. Nobody like him, they say. Don't miss an opportunity to see him. This one's special. After so many years, you become somewhat immune to that kind of rookie hype. Until you realize it's not coming from scouts and general managers this time, and it has nothing to do with the talents that make Carlos Pena one of the favorites for American League Rookie of the Year. The scouts have said plenty and, now that Pena has been traded out of the Texas organization and given the chance to succeed Jason Giambi at first base for Oakland, we're buying it. You'll find Pena ranked second to Rangers third baseman Hank Blalock in our preseason Super Power Rankings. But the intriguing "you gotta meet Carlos" stories come from players. But note that it's "meet" Carlos rather than "see" Carlos. This spring, it began again more than 2,000 miles away, in Texas' spring clubhouse in Florida. Rookie outfielder Chris Magruder was talking about changing organizations for the first time after a trade last July. When Magruder got to Oklahoma City, new guy on the club, Pena became his pal. "Just a great guy," Magruder said. "You've got to meet him." There's an admiration factor, too. Jason Grabowski came up through the Texas system with Pena and was a teammate again this spring until Grabowski didn't make the cut with Oakland as a Rule 5 player. "All-around great guy who has done the most with his opportunity," is Grabowski's description. The opportunity is one Pena's parents gave him, his two brothers and sister in 1992 when they dropped everything and moved from the Dominican Republic to Boston. Pena's dad wanted him to learn English — Carlos' is pretty much impeccable. That was because English is the language of business — Carlos had a 3.3 grade-point average in engineering at Northeastern University. Living in the USA would better prepare the Pena boys should any of them try to cash in on their passion for baseball. Well, it worked. This winter Oakland went out and traded for Carlos after Giambi left town. Enter the A's spring clubhouse in Phoenix, mention Pena and the responses are similar: "As polished as any veteran in here." "What a great kid." "Best interview in the place, except maybe Eric Byrnes." Find Pena and he apologizes that he'll need to be putting on his uniform while he answers questions. "Is that OK?" he asks after a hearty handshake. "Do you mind?" But barely is the first question on the table when Pena's personality takes over. "This is the best part of my day," he says, pulling on the uniform pants, still one leg at a time. "This is the way it's supposed to be." Yeah, Carlos, but you're here to replace Giambi on a team that still expects to reach the postseason. "I'm very aware of it," Pena says. "The last thing I want to do is put pressure on myself." Sure, but it has to be a tough position. "I'm here to make my dreams come true," he says, sitting down, moving in close and speaking softly but with plenty of emotion. "I dream big. I don't want to just make it to the major leagues. I want to come here and make a mark, to be a champion, to be a superstar. "I'm not afraid to say it," he says, eyes sparkling and enthusiasm building. "I'm a child. As a child, we dream. The child inside me keeps telling me that. Some of the guys tell me I'm in my own world. You know what? I'm in my playground. I want to stay there. I don't ever want to lose that childish feeling." Too good to be true? Truth, for the moment, is a sub-.200 spring batting average. Even his spectacular defense, which quickly endeared him to Oakland's pitching staff, has had its sloppy moments. He insists there is no deviation from his normal demeanor. "I'm laid-back, always smiling," he says. "That's important because you need to be able to step back and observe yourself. You have to know in what environments you've been successful. I've been successful when I'm being myself." But Pena also admits he let expectations get the better of him at least once before. Heralded as one of the game's top prospects, he saw his average plummet to .220 late last June at Oklahoma before he finished the year at .288 with 23 homers. "It was part people's expectations," he says. "Part me giving in to them. I was getting a lot of comments, but I finally realized that I don't have to live up to anything. The prospect they talked about was me being myself." But these are huge expectations, this Mark McGwire to Giambi to Pena stuff. Even if manager Art Howe says he'll bat Pena at or near the bottom of the batting order. "I've told him we just want him to be himself," says Howe, picking up the Pena mantra. "We said, 'Hey, we liked what we saw, that's why we traded for you.' " What everyone likes on the field is Pena's extreme patience at the plate, a Giambi hallmark and an Oakland trademark. His defense is like nothing they've seen in Oakland through the 15 years of his predecessors. The A's remain steadfastly in Pena's corner, though a brief trip to the minors for regrouping isn't out of the question. Howe says Pena's role certainly isn't to replace Giambi's production, at least not now. "Part of becoming a leader is earning your stripes, accepting responsibilities," Howe says. "We have guys here who should be ready to step up. Younger guys shouldn't have to." For now, Pena is willing to tackle whatever role he's given, even if it's sharing first base with Scott Hatteberg and Olmedo Saenz, even if he finds himself a late-inning defensive replacement. In the meantime, he'll continue listening as much as he talks, as he did when he sought out Alex Rodriguez last September in Texas. As he did when he saw David Justice at a nearby locker this spring. As he did when he got to first base last September and found himself alongside Giambi. "I spoke to him a little," Pena remembers, not realizing how their lives would play out over the next six months. "I asked him questions about his approach. I tried to learn something in those few minutes I had." He's determined to make the most of this opportunity, too. "I don't take it for granted," Pena says. "This could be taken from me in a minute." For a baseball minute or two, maybe. Long-term, it's more likely that Pena will be taking baseball by storm. But there's one other nagging question. Who is the better interview? Pena turns and looks several lockers away where Byrnes is filling the room with laughter and flailing arms as he describes some college experiences to a reporter. There is a trace of a pause, then Pena smiles and says, calmly, confidently, "It's me." E-mail Paul White at pwhite@usatoday.com |
