Yoda
04-02-2007, 07:51 AM
A SIMPLE PLAN: Bonderman strives to be the best in life and baseball
Tom Gage / The Detroit News
DETROIT -- Sooner or later, all Jeremy Bonderman stories get back to pitching.
This one will, too. Later.
He's the Tigers' Opening Day pitcher, after all. Of course, it'll get back to pitching. It has to.
If Bonderman had his way, however, the topic never would stray. Ask him a question about almost anything else, and you get this quizzical look with a hint of caution in it.
He has a way of becoming distant when a question surprises him -- as if he's thinking, "Why would anyone want to know about what I was like when I was growing up?"
Or, "What business is it of yours how I met my wife?"
There's nothing unfriendly about it. Nothing antagonistic. But when you've grown up in eastern Washington -- pitching and hunting, fishing and throwing, fighting with your brothers, going to school only because you have to -- it takes awhile to get accustomed to being an object of interest.
Besides, you've also never thought of yourself as anything other than an everyday guy who plays ball, albeit at a caliber that now has brought you to the brink of stardom.
But attention ranks under money on Bonderman's list of life's requirements -- and perhaps you know what he recently said about money, even after signing a four-year, $38 million contract this offseason. "It won't change me. I don't need much to live."
The beauty of Bonderman lies as much in that simplicity as it does in his magnificent slider -- both are the essence of who he is. Don't look for complexities. They aren't there.
"Guys like us, who aren't city-boy type people, tend to be quiet," Nate Robertson said.
Don't look for character conflicts. Just give him the ball, that's all he asks. He loves to throw, always has.
"But I know the difference between throwing and pitching now," said Bonderman, 24.
'Courting' Amber
Whether he throws it well in any given game, however, he's learned to love other joys -- such as those of being a husband and father. Naturally it helps that he didn't run down his future wife (but only came close) that one time in high school.
What time in high school?
Bonderman smiles. He has a story to tell, one he laughs about while remembering it, then isn't so sure he wants it used.
"You're not going to put that in the paper, are you?" he asked.
"Not if you don't want it."
"People might get the wrong idea," he said.
No, they won't, Jeremy. Everybody does a crazy thing as a teen.
"OK," he said.
Before his wife was his girlfriend, she dated someone else. And that guy "just stood around and watched one time when my brother, Josh, got jumped at a party."
Typical macho fight.
"I've been in plenty of fights," Bonderman said. "You know how it goes in high school -- you're invincible, you're young and dumb."
But no one was going to jump his brother and get away with it. And no one dating the guy who just stood there was going to get away with it, either.
"I just sort of swerved at her," Bonderman said. "I wasn't really going to run her over."
Good. As Todd Jones kids him, marrying Amber is half of what Bonderman has done well in life.
"He might have been born to pitch, because including the way he dresses, he doesn't do anything else better than the way he pitches," Jones said, "I take that back. He did a good job of getting married.
"He has a heck of a daughter, a wonderful wife and a great slider. But the slider came from above, so he can't take credit for that.
"Seriously, though, he's a special guy. I really look forward to watching him pitch."
The family man
Jeremy and Amber eventually settled their differences. Now they're the proud parents of Mailee Blaize, who'll be 1 in June.
"That's a whole 'nother world, being with my little girl," Bonderman said. "It's made me more mellow. What's there to be mad about? My daughter doesn't care if we win or lose. Whatever happens on the field now stays on the field."
He's come a long way already, hasn't he? From raw potential to being a pitcher who already has learned the important lessons.
"Like how to not let the moment overwhelm him," Robertson said.
When Bonderman first pitched for the Tigers, he was 20. The Tigers easily could have stuck him in the minors for a year or two. But they were at a point -- the same point they languished at for years -- where they had nothing to lose.
They weren't going to be competitive. They weren't going to be good. So why not ride with Bonderman in the bigs and see where it took him? The first year wasn't particularly pretty. He went 6-19.
The second was better.
Now he's pretty darn good.
And he's pretty darn rich, too, though that's not an issue.
"I'm happy with who I am," Bonderman said. "I'm the same person I was back in Pasco. Money isn't going to change me. I've seen it happen, but I won't let it."
Besides, he doesn't think of himself first, anyway.
"My family has given me everything. My wife's family has given her everything," he said. "They've worked hard all their lives, and they still help us out a lot. We're going to take care of them. That's definitely something we plan to do."
Building his legacy
So much has been written about Bonderman's need for a change-up -- it's later now, so we're talking pitching -- that the fact he can win without it gets obscured.
When his slider is right, Bonderman is capable of making hitters look silly. But when everything's working, it becomes clear his intention as a pitcher can come true.
"I'd hate to say a Cy Young Award winner, because you can't predict those things," backup catcher Vance Wilson said. "But to have that pitch, and dominate hitters on both sides of the plate, he'd be a legitimate No. 1."
Which is what Bonderman always has hoped to be.
"I want to be considered one of the best," he said. "Someday when I walk away, I want to look back and think I was top tier, that I was as good as anybody.
"And to have people say I played the game the right way, played it hard and that I was a great pitcher."
Nothing wrong with that.
But, until then -- and you know what, even if it doesn't happen -- life's pretty good.
Tom Gage / The Detroit News
DETROIT -- Sooner or later, all Jeremy Bonderman stories get back to pitching.
This one will, too. Later.
He's the Tigers' Opening Day pitcher, after all. Of course, it'll get back to pitching. It has to.
If Bonderman had his way, however, the topic never would stray. Ask him a question about almost anything else, and you get this quizzical look with a hint of caution in it.
He has a way of becoming distant when a question surprises him -- as if he's thinking, "Why would anyone want to know about what I was like when I was growing up?"
Or, "What business is it of yours how I met my wife?"
There's nothing unfriendly about it. Nothing antagonistic. But when you've grown up in eastern Washington -- pitching and hunting, fishing and throwing, fighting with your brothers, going to school only because you have to -- it takes awhile to get accustomed to being an object of interest.
Besides, you've also never thought of yourself as anything other than an everyday guy who plays ball, albeit at a caliber that now has brought you to the brink of stardom.
But attention ranks under money on Bonderman's list of life's requirements -- and perhaps you know what he recently said about money, even after signing a four-year, $38 million contract this offseason. "It won't change me. I don't need much to live."
The beauty of Bonderman lies as much in that simplicity as it does in his magnificent slider -- both are the essence of who he is. Don't look for complexities. They aren't there.
"Guys like us, who aren't city-boy type people, tend to be quiet," Nate Robertson said.
Don't look for character conflicts. Just give him the ball, that's all he asks. He loves to throw, always has.
"But I know the difference between throwing and pitching now," said Bonderman, 24.
'Courting' Amber
Whether he throws it well in any given game, however, he's learned to love other joys -- such as those of being a husband and father. Naturally it helps that he didn't run down his future wife (but only came close) that one time in high school.
What time in high school?
Bonderman smiles. He has a story to tell, one he laughs about while remembering it, then isn't so sure he wants it used.
"You're not going to put that in the paper, are you?" he asked.
"Not if you don't want it."
"People might get the wrong idea," he said.
No, they won't, Jeremy. Everybody does a crazy thing as a teen.
"OK," he said.
Before his wife was his girlfriend, she dated someone else. And that guy "just stood around and watched one time when my brother, Josh, got jumped at a party."
Typical macho fight.
"I've been in plenty of fights," Bonderman said. "You know how it goes in high school -- you're invincible, you're young and dumb."
But no one was going to jump his brother and get away with it. And no one dating the guy who just stood there was going to get away with it, either.
"I just sort of swerved at her," Bonderman said. "I wasn't really going to run her over."
Good. As Todd Jones kids him, marrying Amber is half of what Bonderman has done well in life.
"He might have been born to pitch, because including the way he dresses, he doesn't do anything else better than the way he pitches," Jones said, "I take that back. He did a good job of getting married.
"He has a heck of a daughter, a wonderful wife and a great slider. But the slider came from above, so he can't take credit for that.
"Seriously, though, he's a special guy. I really look forward to watching him pitch."
The family man
Jeremy and Amber eventually settled their differences. Now they're the proud parents of Mailee Blaize, who'll be 1 in June.
"That's a whole 'nother world, being with my little girl," Bonderman said. "It's made me more mellow. What's there to be mad about? My daughter doesn't care if we win or lose. Whatever happens on the field now stays on the field."
He's come a long way already, hasn't he? From raw potential to being a pitcher who already has learned the important lessons.
"Like how to not let the moment overwhelm him," Robertson said.
When Bonderman first pitched for the Tigers, he was 20. The Tigers easily could have stuck him in the minors for a year or two. But they were at a point -- the same point they languished at for years -- where they had nothing to lose.
They weren't going to be competitive. They weren't going to be good. So why not ride with Bonderman in the bigs and see where it took him? The first year wasn't particularly pretty. He went 6-19.
The second was better.
Now he's pretty darn good.
And he's pretty darn rich, too, though that's not an issue.
"I'm happy with who I am," Bonderman said. "I'm the same person I was back in Pasco. Money isn't going to change me. I've seen it happen, but I won't let it."
Besides, he doesn't think of himself first, anyway.
"My family has given me everything. My wife's family has given her everything," he said. "They've worked hard all their lives, and they still help us out a lot. We're going to take care of them. That's definitely something we plan to do."
Building his legacy
So much has been written about Bonderman's need for a change-up -- it's later now, so we're talking pitching -- that the fact he can win without it gets obscured.
When his slider is right, Bonderman is capable of making hitters look silly. But when everything's working, it becomes clear his intention as a pitcher can come true.
"I'd hate to say a Cy Young Award winner, because you can't predict those things," backup catcher Vance Wilson said. "But to have that pitch, and dominate hitters on both sides of the plate, he'd be a legitimate No. 1."
Which is what Bonderman always has hoped to be.
"I want to be considered one of the best," he said. "Someday when I walk away, I want to look back and think I was top tier, that I was as good as anybody.
"And to have people say I played the game the right way, played it hard and that I was a great pitcher."
Nothing wrong with that.
But, until then -- and you know what, even if it doesn't happen -- life's pretty good.