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The Journal of Christopher Quinn (2b)
FEBRUARY 18, 2003
On draft day, I calmed my parents by actually staying home with them. They were more nervous than I was. The first pick went by, and it was no surprise. Benjamin Hirth went number one overall to Detroit. He can hit for power, he can run, he can do it all. He's a center fielder, but he even pitched three games his senior year and had an ERA of 0.50. This guy is ridiculous.
I was in the kitchen getting an iced tea when my mom called out, "Milwaukee just took someone named Bays." Barrett Bays is two years older than I am, but we're very similar players. He's also a second baseman, and he has a fairly even mix of hitting and running like I do. He's more of a power hitter, and he bats right-handed, both of which were appealing to Milwaukee. Part of me is hoping I'll hold out until the later picks -- I don't want the pressure of a first-round selection.
So much for what I want. The phone rings, and it's Pittsburgh's general manager, Larry Hochman. "Son," he says (I hate him already), "we're taking you in the first round of the draft. You'll report to our Single-A camp for training this spring. Congratulations." He goes on to explain the contract -- limited pay scale, but I get a surprisingly large signing bonus for being the third overall pick. Hell, I'm only eightteen, and they just gave me almost 2.5 million dollars!
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