[RebelYell]

When you're coming up through major-league baseball's farm systems, you get to know a lot of different people. There are a lot of scouts. They are transients, just like the players every summer.
You can know a guy for 10 years and not recognize him in a small crowd in Bozeman, Montana, because you're not used to seeing him there. But that guy is a scout.
Some of these scouts you get to be friends with -- at least as much as their job and yours will allow. They're really in the same boat. If their territory is the Rookie League you're playing in, then they're having to work their way up the ladder just like you are.
So there's some camraderie in the business.

Many of the scouts are former players. Some are high-school or American Legion coaches just trying to make an extra few bucks.
They've got to be accurate and precise with their reports or they won't be scouting very long.

My favorite scout was the very guy who "discovered" me playing in the sandlots of Cleveland, Ohio.
His name was Father John. Yeah, he had a last name, too, but he was always just Father John to me.
He umpired Hot Stove baseball -- Babe Ruth or Cal Ripken level ball for 14 and 15-year-olds -- and I caught many a game that he umped behind the plate.
Didn't think he knew who I was.

You see, I was the opposite of a prototype catcher. Especially the guys who catch these days.
Catchers are big and strong with great arms. They can hit for power. They're not, on the whole, great defensively, but they can hose a runner trying to steal if they get a good pitch to handle.
I lacked bat speed, arm strength, size ... you name it.

I was tiny by any standard as a catcher. But I was quick. I had leadoff ability as a hitter because I got on base and I could steal off even the craftiest left-handers.

I was a smart baserunner and good at handling pitchers. Our pitchers were never scared to throw a forkball or 12-6 curve with two strikes. They knew I would come up with the ball somehow and whisk it to first for the out if I had to.

I was also wily.
I had learned from my first Hot Stove manager, Pat Mahoney, that there were five more reasons to throw the ball around from home to first to short to second to third than to do it the other way around.
The most obvious reason: You made the throw to first all the time and got better at it with repetition. When I guy struck out and didn't know if the ball was in the dirt, he didn't know if you were throwing it around or not. They just all loped back to the dugout.

Father John saw a lot of me and, by the time I was old enough to move into the 16- and 17-year-old ranks, I had a pretty solid game.
But I was never a good gap or power hitter. I knew I could play at some level, but I also knew early on that I wouldn't be going very far.

When I got the chance to change tracks and become one of those scouts, I saw a fastlane to where I wanted to be: The Bigs.