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From
Saigon to Cincinnati
Thursday,
August 26, 2004 10:12:24 AM By Denise Nguyen |
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SAN
FRANCISCO — It is the bottom of the ninth and final inning
at SBC Park. Danny Graves walks to the pitcher’s mound,
scraping the dirt with his feet, getting ready to finish the
game and secure a win for his Cincinnati Reds against the home
team, the San Francisco Giants.
As the “closer” — a specialized pitcher called on to end
the game — Graves walks a fine line between love and hate
from fans. It’s expected for him to protect the lead for the
team, to shut down any hope for the opponents to win.
If he allows runs to score and blows a “save,” he becomes
the target for the frustration of the Reds’ spectators.
On this night, his team is leading, 8-7. The first batter he
faces hits a fly ball to right field. One out.
Graves walks the second batter, allowing the tying run on
base. Then making Reds fan a little uneasy, the third batter,
Marquis Grissom gets a base hit. The Wednesday night crowd of
40,095 Giants loyalists smells blood.
Graves, however, doesn’t look fazed. He strikes out the
fourth batter. Two outs. All he needs is one more.
The nail biting begins after Graves tosses three straight
balls to the fifth batter, Edgardo Alfonzo, inviting the
possibility of walking another batter and loading the bases.
On the sixth pitch, Alfonzo hits a ground ball to the
shortstop, who tosses the batter out at first. Three outs.
Game over. Reds win.
It’s just another day at the office for Graves, the first
Vietnamese-born man to play major-league baseball. In his
entire nine-year career, he’s been baffling batters in a
sport that his countrymen have yet to fully embrace.
Daniel Peter Graves was born in the summer of 1973, the
youngest son of an Army sergeant and a young Vietnamese woman
working at the U.S. Embassy in Saigon. He and his family,
which includes an older brother, moved to the United States
when he was 14 months old.
Graves’ dad, Jim, loved baseball. Danny learned to love it,
too, as a child in the Florida city of Tampa, where the
neighborhood kids would pitch in the streets. At 5, he asked
his parents to register him for Little League.
At first, he wanted to be a catcher but abandoned the idea.
“As a catcher, you have to be able to hit, and I didn’t
hit very well, but I always had a strong arm growing up,” he
remembered.
That arm propelled him through Brandon High School and earned
him a scholarship to the University of Miami, where during his
junior season for the Hurricanes, Graves posted a 0.89
earned-run average and led the nation with a school-record 21
saves. In 1994, the Cleveland Indians selected him in the
fourth round of the amateur draft.
His mother, Thao, who teaches English to Vietnamese students
in Florida, thought he was crazy for wanting to be a
professional baseball player. She didn’t understand why he
wanted to take up the sport for a living.
“She wanted me to have a normal job,” he said. “She
didn’t know you can get paid a lot of money being an athlete
and be able to take care of your family that way. Once she
figured it’s a good way for people to have a career, she was
OK with it.”
It’s been a more than a good career for Graves, who earns a
reported $6 million a year. After two years in the minor
leagues, he made his major-league debut on July 13, 1996, for
the Indians against the Minnesota Twins, becoming the first
Vietnamese-born player in a sport with an increasing number of
Asians.
The following season, he and three other players were traded
to the Cincinnati Reds. On May 20, 2004, he became the Reds’
all-time leader in saves, successfully closing out 149 wins
for the team in his career. He’s been a member of the
National League All-Star team twice.
At Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, Japanese fans stand up,
signs in their hands and cheer whenever Hideo Nomo runs to the
pitcher’s mound or Kazuhisa Ishii stands in the batter’s
box. Korean fans do the same for Hee-Seop Choi. It’s not an
uncommon sight in any stadium where an Asian player takes the
field.
But until Graves came along, the Vietnamese were left out of
rooting for one of their own.Still, despite Graves’ success,
Vietnamese Americans do not flock to major-league stadiums.
Other sports — soccer, tennis, basketball, football and, it
seems, even table tennis — generate more fervor among the
Vietnamese.
Maybe baseball is just more difficult to grasp. How many
strikes constitute an out? How many outs to end an inning?
What’s a sacrifice fly? With soccer, it seems easier to
follow. Ball in net equals goal. Plus, in baseball, there
isn’t the non-stop action other sports offer.
The lack of interest among Vietnamese hasn’t gone unnoticed
by Graves. He said he would like to take his skills to the
country of his birth and teach baseball.
“Any way I can introduce another sport where I came from
would be nice because I know they don’t know much about
it,” said Graves, who is emphatic about his love for
Vietnamese food, particularly his mother’s cooking.
He also knows not a lot of Vietnamese children play Little
League in the United States. A father of four, he recommends
it to other parents.
“It’s a fun game,” he said. “It’s a good way for
kids to interact with other people and to teach them good
sportsmanship. It’s a good way to keep them away from the TV
all day long. Baseball, it’s just fun to me.”
Life as a closer in the major leagues is a pressure-cooker
situation. It requires being mentally tough. Graves doesn’t
necessarily look the part, but he is. Blessed or cursed with
the Asian quality of appearing younger than his years, Graves
resembles a teen-ager, complete with blond highlights in his
hair. Yet his teammates have named him “baby-faced
assassin.” His ammunition of choice? A sinker, two-seam
fastball, changeup and curveball.
Dr. Bill Harrison, who coaches the visual and mental aspects
of the game to professional baseball players such as Greg
Maddux and Jason Giambi, shares his experience working with
Graves.
“It was obvious he was very much attuned to being mentally
stronger than most players. And he’s not very big but he
knows it’s not about being big. It’s about throwing
quality pitches. Everyone says they do it but he really does
it.”
Graves attributes his mental toughness to being raised to
believe in himself, a trait encouraged by his parents.
“It’s helped me be focused and not be scared of the
outcome,” he said. “I think a lot of people in this game
are afraid to fail. They don’t understand that you have to
fail before you succeed.”
And Graves hasn’t had it easy. Even though he leads the
National League in saves with 37, he was placed on the 15-day
disabled list on Friday with lower back spasms. This season,
he has pitched nearly 62 innings, recording one win and five
losses and striking out 38. His ERA is 4.09.
“I know that if I go out there one day and don’t do well,
I have the next day to do better,” Graves said before his
trip to the disabled list. “A lot of guys can’t handle not
doing well, but I understand that’s part of the game. You
can’t be perfect all the time.”
While Graves is best known nationally on the field, people in
Cincinnati know him off of it, too. He is the local spokesman
for the city’s National Multiple Sclerosis Society’s
READaTHON program; honorary board member of Hamilton
County’s Special Olympics; and was featured in a poster on
behalf of the Ohio Department of Safety’s “Sober Truth”
program. He also invites Little League teams serving
underprivileged children to Sunday games at the Reds’ Great
American Ball Park as his guests.
“He is one of my favorite players to work with,” says
Lorrie Platt, community relations manager for the Reds. “I
know I can rely on him for our outreach programs. He is a
great representative for our team. He gives 110 percent all
the time.”
Even without the fanfare, people have noticed Graves’ giving
and respectful-of-others nature, an attribute instilled in him
by his parents. In 2001 and 2003, he was the Reds’ nominee
for the Roberto Clemente Award, given annually to the
major-league player who combines outstanding skills on the
field with devoted work in the community. He also received the
2003 Lou Gehrig Memorial Award, presented annually by Phi
Delta Theta International Fraternity to the major-league
player who best exemplifies Gehrig’s character.
“I’m not out to get publicity for doing certain community
service,” he said. “If I go out and make one group happy
or one little kid happy, I feel like I did something right. It
makes me feel better to help somebody out.”
If you’d like to write to
Graves, send your letter to:
Danny Graves
c/o Cincinnati RedsGreat
American Ball Park
100 Main Street
Cincinnati, OH 45202
Photos courtesy of the Cincinnati Reds |
http://www.nguoi-viet.com/absolutenm/anmviewer.asp?a=9077&z=19
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