Dave Roberts not ready to announce his retirement, but he’s leaning that way
Posted by Andrew Baggarly on March 22nd, 2009 at 12:29 pm | Categorized as Uncategorized
I just got off the phone with Dave Roberts. He isn’t ready to announce his retirement just yet, but he is leaning that way. Roberts has told his agent, John Boggs, to be selective. He won’t play just anywhere in a bid to extend his career.
If this is the end, Roberts is satisfied. Grateful, humble and satisfied.
“I haven’t closed the door officially,” said Roberts, who only wants to play if the right opportunity comes along with a contending club near his San Diego home. “I wouldn’t say I’m optimistic, but I’m leaving it open.
“Emotionally, I’m prepared for anything, and if this is the end, I’ll be excited for the prospects of my second career. I’m very, very grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had. I’ve exceeded all my expectations with the people I’ve met, the career I’ve had and winning a world championship. Every day I took the field, from Day One as a 28th-rounder in short-season ball in Jamestown, N.Y., I was grateful for the opportunity.
“I can honestly say this, walking away, that I couldn’t be more satisfied. I’ve seen people who are bitter when they leave the game. But that’s not me.”
Roberts had left knee surgery last year. Before the Giants released him earlier this month, it had been acting up. But he is working out, staying ready in case the phone rings. He’s tried to catch on with the San Diego Padres, but GM Kevin Towers said yesterday that he’d only look at Roberts as a second-half player if the team were in contention.
Having seen the sloppy Padres this spring, it’s hard to envision that happening.
So Roberts is listening to other opportunities, and if a good broadcasting or coaching offer comes along, he’s ready to say yes and move on with his life. He wants to play again, but he’s not desperate.
“It’s not worth it to me because of the status of my knee and what it takes to get out there,” he said. “Obviously, it’s not the same, but I can be a fourth outfielder and play two or three times a week.
“If it doesn’t work out, I’m thinking of doing the broadcast thing. There’s been some interest shown to me. I’ll also approach the organizations and teams I had ties with and talk to them about being on the field in some capacity or a special assistant to bridge the gap between the executive side and the player side. Maybe I’d even try scouting and see how that goes.”
Earlier this month, MLB.com’s Chris Haft wrote a very nice blog post about Roberts and the impact he made in the clubhouse through his optimism, decency and humility. That’s a hard act to follow, but I’ll share a few of my own thoughts.
Roberts taught me an important lesson while I was covering the Dodgers in 2002: Don’t count anyone out.
He was acquired from Cleveland in a minor league trade to compete for a spot in center field. The other candidates were McKay Christensen, Marquis Grissom and Tom Goodwin. Grissom had struggled with injuries and wasn’t hitting right-handers well, so he became a platoon player. Goodwin was owed $3.25 million, so we reporters all figured he would be the guy.
But Roberts quietly worked with Maury Wills, collected a slew of bunt hits, and when it was time to pack up and leave Dodgertown, his duffel bag was on the charter flight. Goodwin was released. (And as you may recall, Goody-Good joined the Giants and had some big hits against the Dodgers down the stretch –- all while continuing to collect L.A.’s paychecks.)
Roberts made the team out of sheer perseverance, established himself as a major league regular, and now he’s got a World Series ring.
I know what a lot of Giants fans will say. Roberts is making $6.5 million this year. His three-year contract was a colossal mistake. Likability doesn’t win games.
True, baseball is a business. But Roberts is a professional. He feels bad that he wasn’t healthy enough to be the kind of player the Giants hoped he’d be. It wasn’t his fault that he was signed as a complementary piece in the Barry Bonds era, only to find himself out of place as the organization turned toward a youth movement.
(In the Bonds era, by the way, Roberts was absolutely huge in one respect. During the slow march to 756, Roberts patiently answered every controversy-charged question from every national reporter as they searched for something to write every day. There was tangible value in this. He did it because he knew it’d allow his teammates some peace.)
A baseball clubhouse is like an office. Some people are team players. Ask anyone who’s played with Roberts and they’ll tell you he’s one of the best.
“I got to be around players and watch them become better on the field and become better people, too,” Roberts said. “It’s hard to quantify something like that. People get jaded, but I always tried to take the same perspective on the field: No matter how tough it is, my worst day could be better than somebody else’s best day.
“I haven’t been the player I wanted to be because of my knee. But talking to an Emmanuel Burriss or a Matt Cain, and hearing now that I might have said something or did something to help them through, that means so much to me.
“There are years you could be a .300 hitter with five more hits. But what are five hits worth compared to helping a teammate?”
Roberts has some immediate plans. He and his wife, Tricia, are in the process of making their own wine. It’ll be a Cabernet using grapes sourced from Napa and Sonoma. He plans to produce around 200 cases. No label concept yet, but he said it’ll “be something to do with baseball, and it won’t be cheesy.”
Maybe he can simply call it “Respect.”
“If you respect the game, the game honors you,” Roberts said. “I’m living proof of that.”
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