ANALYSIS : At Least Angels Will Ask Him Out Again
Al Campanis, the man who signed a teen-aged Fernando Valenzuela out of the Mexican League in 1979, stood on the Anaheim Stadium grass early Friday evening, so many years later, groping for the proper words to describe Fernando’s debut on a different plot of foreign soil.
“It’s going to be like the first date with a girl you’ve never met,” Campanis said. “What do you call it? A blind date? Yeah. You toss a coin. You never know what’s going to happen.”
Fernando and the Angels had their blind date, all right.
Fernando dropped off the Angels early, saying good night before the first out of the sixth inning.
Nobody had a really nice time.
Fernandomania reigned primarily in the dugout of the Detroit Tigers, the opposition provided for Fernando’s American League debut. In five-plus innings of Fernando, the Tigers saw 89 pitches, smacked nine of them for hits, pounded two of them over the outfield wall, glanced a couple more off the nerve-racked glove of Angel second baseman Luis Sojo and converted it all into a 5-0 Angel defeat.
This game was ugly and it had a lousy personality.
For Fernando and the Angels, what little fun there was to be had happened before a pitch was thrown. Sensing the claustrophobia that was to come, with 50,000 fans and an international media battalion descending on the scene, Fernando and his new teammates emphasized the loose while loosening up.
Ninety minutes before gametime, Fernando picked up a Ping-Pong paddle and swatted a few with a newspaper photographer. That game, Fernando won.
A little later, with a swarm of photographers congregated around the Angel dugout, awaiting the emergence of The One And Only, the Angels instructed the starting pitcher to head for the bullpen in an underground walkway and send a fake Fernando out in his place. Disguised in a heavy warm-up jacket and wire-rimmed glasses, Chuck Hernandez, the team’s minor league pitching instructor, trotted up the steps and out onto the field, heading for the bullpen.
Only a couple of lenses swiveled.
“Aww,” moaned Dave Winfield. “They didn’t go for the deke.”
Photographers and Tigers alike. The real Fernando kicked like the old Fernando, rolled his eyes and his head like the old Fernando and tried to throw like the old Fernando.
The Tigers bought none of it.
Fernando’s third pitch was drilled down the left-field line, a one-hopper that exploded past third baseman Jack Howell and left Tony Phillips standing on second base. Lou Whitaker, Detroit’s second hitter, singled sharply under a diving Sojo.
No, this wasn’t Little Rock. Fernando was getting a little rocked and, clearly, he was going need help from all hands on deck.
Any volunteers?
Not so fast, Mr. Sojo.
After Fernando retired Alan Trammell and Cecil Fielder to keep Phillips stalled at third base, Pete Incaviglia swung at the first pitch and popped it down the right-field line. Playable for Sojo. He catches it and Fernando skirts disaster.
Sojo got to the ball but as he did, his legs crumbled. Sojo fell backward and the ball bounced forward, landing in fair territory for an error, allowing Phillips to score.
Three innings later, the same combination produces the same result: Pop by Incaviglia, drop by Sojo. Incaviglia’s legs couldn’t believe his eyes and they took him past first base, churning into second. A slow churner, Incaviglia gave Sojo enough time to recover and throw the ball to shortstop Dick Schofield, who negated Incaviglia’s slide with an easy tag.
Rob Deer followed with another pop up, this one over Schofield’s head, this one skimming off Schofield’s glove. More churning by Deer. The Angels catch him in a rundown and they tag him out.
In the Detroit dugout, Sparky Anderson claps both hands to his face, bows his head and takes a walk.
On the field, Fernando wriggles out of another mess.
Then came the fifth.
Then came Phillips’ fifth and Whitaker’s seventh--back-to-back home runs on back-to-back full-count pitches, the first dropping over the left-field fence, the second screaming into the field-box seats inside the right-field foul pole.
Fernando was down, 3-0, and after opening the sixth inning with a double to Fielder and a single to Incaviglia, he was out.
When both runners scored against reliever Joe Grahe, Fernando’s first Angel line read: five innings, nine hits, five runs, four earned runs, five strikeouts.
Leave it to Fernando to paint the corner during postgame analysis.
“In the first inning, I didn’t follow through,” he said. “I was stopping my arm. After the first inning, I started to loosen up and I was fine, more relaxed. I know I can do better. I hope I do better next time.”
He said he found no shame in surrendering two home runs to the Tigers, the major league leaders in that department.
“They have bats in their hands and they swing them pretty good,” he said. “Everybody knows they have a lot of power hitters in their lineup. I expected that.”
One more thing. The Angels drew a crowd of 49,997. The Friday night before, they drew 26,408.
At the turnstile, Fernando looked as sharp as ever.
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