M's Beltre, Betancourt test fate by not wearing protective cups
TUCSON, Ariz. (AP) - Adrian Beltre has one of the most dangerous jobs in baseball.
He stands roughly 90 feet from home plate facing lasers that zing off the bats of pull-happy, right-handed hitters. Some balls bang off his shins, his thighs. Others smack his stomach, arms and hands.
Beltre - and those who love him - can only hope one doesn't hit him somewhere else.
The Seattle Mariners' Gold Glove third baseman doesn't wear a protective cup, leaving him vulnerable in a particularly sensitive area.
"I hear that a lot, that I'm crazy, stupid," Beltre said. "They might be right. There is some stupidity to it."
Beltre's not the only major leaguer to forsake what is supposedly the game's most essential piece of equipment for infielders, who are at the mercy of stones, dirt clumps or just plain weird bounces of ground balls.
"I would think there's a lot of pitchers don't (wear one). A lot of outfielders don't, too," Mariners manager John McLaren said Monday, when Beltre was back in camp in Peoria, Ariz., instead of testing fate again in Seattle's game against the Chicago White Sox in Tucson.
"Now, you tell me a catcher doesn't, we'd have to check his sanity," McLaren said, chuckling.
Shortstop Yuniesky Betancourt doesn't wear a cup, either. So half of the Mariners' infield isn't fully protected.
But Beltre is one of the few known to go cup-less at the position known as the "hot corner."
"He's crazy," Jake Peavy said, shaking his head.
Then again, the San Diego Padres' ace starter doesn't wear one, either.
Beltre said he never wore a cup while playing on fields full of holes and rocks in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. The only time he's ever worn one was in 1996, in his first days as a 17-year-old Class-A player for the Los Angeles Dodgers. And that was only because the Dodgers briefly tried fining him for not wearing one.
"I probably would have paid my whole paycheck to not wear it," he said, adding - not with a knock but a pound on wood - that he has yet to have a ball strike him where it would hurt most.
After a few fines, the Dodgers quit fining Beltre because they saw no matter the cost he wasn't going to wear a cup.
"It's the discomfort of using it. I can't play wearing it," he said.
Betancourt, who said he grew up playing on similarly rough fields in Cuba, and Peavy, a native of Mobile, Ala., also cite comfort.
"Yeah, I know, I don't wear a cup. Guess I have to start wearing one," said Peavy, a 26-year-old father of two young boys, ages 6 and 3. "But, hey, I'm done having kids."
That was after a spring game earlier this month in which Peavy got hit for the first time in the groin by a batted ball, a searing, one-hopper that caromed out to the shortstop.
"That affected me," Peavy deadpanned. "Then again, on the next pitch I threw my strongest pitch I threw all game. Go figure.
"My teammates think I'm crazy, but I've got to be comfortable out there."
Beltre knows the story of Josias Manzanillo. Not that it's changed his mind.
In 1997, in a game at the old Kingdome, Cleveland's Manny Ramirez lined a drive off the groin of Manzanillo, then a reliever with the Mariners who wasn't wearing a cup. Manzanillo had surgery after the game to salvage a testicle.
"He was a gamer," said McLaren, Seattle's bench coach at the time. "He jogged off, then collapsed as soon as he got in the dugout. He got nailed."
Dennis Martinez, who was with the Mariners then and hadn't worn a cup while pitching 21 years in the major leagues, did for the first time after that night.
Betancourt thinks his pal Beltre is loco.
"He's a little more dangerous for him because he has to get the glove up faster," Betancourt said through an interpreter, adding, "the majority of Latinos don't use one."
Then count Jose Lopez in the minority. The second baseman said he's always worn a cup, since he was a Little Leaguer in the early 1990s in Anzoategui, Venezuela. He said it's simply common sense.
"It's not always comfortable, but I just want to be careful," Lopez said. "It's part of my baseball routine."
He, too, thinks Beltre is living dangerously.
"I think it's crazy, especially because we play against a lot of right-handed hitters who hit it hard," Lopez said, emphasizing "hard."
McLaren thinks Beltre's choice is part of baseball's charm. A foolish charm, perhaps.
"There are certain things out there that certain guys do certain ways," he said.
"Another beauty of the game."
He stands roughly 90 feet from home plate facing lasers that zing off the bats of pull-happy, right-handed hitters. Some balls bang off his shins, his thighs. Others smack his stomach, arms and hands.
Beltre - and those who love him - can only hope one doesn't hit him somewhere else.
The Seattle Mariners' Gold Glove third baseman doesn't wear a protective cup, leaving him vulnerable in a particularly sensitive area.
"I hear that a lot, that I'm crazy, stupid," Beltre said. "They might be right. There is some stupidity to it."
Beltre's not the only major leaguer to forsake what is supposedly the game's most essential piece of equipment for infielders, who are at the mercy of stones, dirt clumps or just plain weird bounces of ground balls.
"I would think there's a lot of pitchers don't (wear one). A lot of outfielders don't, too," Mariners manager John McLaren said Monday, when Beltre was back in camp in Peoria, Ariz., instead of testing fate again in Seattle's game against the Chicago White Sox in Tucson.
"Now, you tell me a catcher doesn't, we'd have to check his sanity," McLaren said, chuckling.
Shortstop Yuniesky Betancourt doesn't wear a cup, either. So half of the Mariners' infield isn't fully protected.
But Beltre is one of the few known to go cup-less at the position known as the "hot corner."
"He's crazy," Jake Peavy said, shaking his head.
Then again, the San Diego Padres' ace starter doesn't wear one, either.
Beltre said he never wore a cup while playing on fields full of holes and rocks in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. The only time he's ever worn one was in 1996, in his first days as a 17-year-old Class-A player for the Los Angeles Dodgers. And that was only because the Dodgers briefly tried fining him for not wearing one.
"I probably would have paid my whole paycheck to not wear it," he said, adding - not with a knock but a pound on wood - that he has yet to have a ball strike him where it would hurt most.
After a few fines, the Dodgers quit fining Beltre because they saw no matter the cost he wasn't going to wear a cup.
"It's the discomfort of using it. I can't play wearing it," he said.
Betancourt, who said he grew up playing on similarly rough fields in Cuba, and Peavy, a native of Mobile, Ala., also cite comfort.
"Yeah, I know, I don't wear a cup. Guess I have to start wearing one," said Peavy, a 26-year-old father of two young boys, ages 6 and 3. "But, hey, I'm done having kids."
That was after a spring game earlier this month in which Peavy got hit for the first time in the groin by a batted ball, a searing, one-hopper that caromed out to the shortstop.
"That affected me," Peavy deadpanned. "Then again, on the next pitch I threw my strongest pitch I threw all game. Go figure.
"My teammates think I'm crazy, but I've got to be comfortable out there."
Beltre knows the story of Josias Manzanillo. Not that it's changed his mind.
In 1997, in a game at the old Kingdome, Cleveland's Manny Ramirez lined a drive off the groin of Manzanillo, then a reliever with the Mariners who wasn't wearing a cup. Manzanillo had surgery after the game to salvage a testicle.
"He was a gamer," said McLaren, Seattle's bench coach at the time. "He jogged off, then collapsed as soon as he got in the dugout. He got nailed."
Dennis Martinez, who was with the Mariners then and hadn't worn a cup while pitching 21 years in the major leagues, did for the first time after that night.
Betancourt thinks his pal Beltre is loco.
"He's a little more dangerous for him because he has to get the glove up faster," Betancourt said through an interpreter, adding, "the majority of Latinos don't use one."
Then count Jose Lopez in the minority. The second baseman said he's always worn a cup, since he was a Little Leaguer in the early 1990s in Anzoategui, Venezuela. He said it's simply common sense.
"It's not always comfortable, but I just want to be careful," Lopez said. "It's part of my baseball routine."
He, too, thinks Beltre is living dangerously.
"I think it's crazy, especially because we play against a lot of right-handed hitters who hit it hard," Lopez said, emphasizing "hard."
McLaren thinks Beltre's choice is part of baseball's charm. A foolish charm, perhaps.
"There are certain things out there that certain guys do certain ways," he said.
"Another beauty of the game."