Utility infielders aren’t born, they’re created.
When he was a kid, Rene Gonzales didn’t dream about one day backing up an entire infield. But in 1987, that became a reality.
He had been traded from Montreal to Baltimore after being told that Cal Ripken intended to switch from shortstop to third base. Ripken then changed his mind, and that put Gonzales in a bind.
He couldn’t just be Ripken’s backup. He’d see more action repairing air conditioners in Alaska.
So his second career was hatched.
“I started playing other positions,” Gonzales said, “and when you start doing that, you get labeled.”
The label has not been peeled off since. At 36, after having played for 16 major- and minor-league teams, Gonzales is vying for a spot on the White Sox roster.
His odds aren’t good, and they didn’t improve when Gonzales, playing first base, couldn’t handle a sharp groundball in the ninth inning of Sunday’s 7-6 loss to Arizona. The Sox are stressing a youth movement, and he would have to beat out Chris Snopek and Greg Norton to win the job. Both are in their mid-20s.
“I’m way beyond trying to do the math,” Gonzales said. “I just go out and perform and do my thing.”
A career .239 hitter, he has had just 135 major-league at-bats over the last four seasons, playing for Cleveland, California, Texas and Colorado. Gonzales played 100 games last year, but 98 were at the Triple-A level.
What keeps him ticking? It’s simple: a love for the game.
“I don’t need to play,” he said. “I just want to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be out here.
“(Playing in the minors) is difficult at times. It weighs on you because you’re supposed to put up (big) numbers at a lower class. But I know where I belong, and I continue to strive for that.”
Gonzales ended up in Sox camp for two reasons: his positive attributes and the fact that General Manager Ron Schueler wanted to do a favor for a friend. Schueler is close to Gonzales’ agent, Dennis Gilbert, who is about to step away from the business.
“He told me he had one last guy he really wanted to place,” Schueler said. “(Gilbert) wanted to get him into a camp where he had at least an outside chance.”
But there was more than sympathy on Schueler’s mind.
“I’ve never heard a guy around the whole league ever say a bad word about Rene Gonzales,” he said. “That’s the kind of guy you want to bring in, someone who the young guys can learn from.”
They could learn just by watching Gonzales take care of his six fielding gloves. Yes, six. Gonzales is nothing if not prepared.
Gonzales treats the gloves, which have the nickname “Gonzo” imprinted on them, like royalty. He ties a white cotton cloth around each one to keep them worn in and ready for use.
Gonzales also takes pride in his chiseled, 6-foot-3-inch, 220-pound frame. You’re more likely to find fat on a chicken breast.
“I don’t want to look like a slob limping into the locker room,” he said.
After four years in Baltimore, Gonzales sought more playing time and asked to be traded. After a brief stay in Toronto, Gonzales blossomed for the Angels. In 1992, he played in 104 games, hitting .277 with 38 RBIs.
But then he reassumed his role as a utility player. While it has helped him stay in baseball, it also may have limited him from becoming an everyday player.
“It hurt me in my career, I thought,” said Schueler, who pitched for four teams from 1972-79, compiling a record of 40-48. “I had an arm that bounced back all the time, so rather than make me a starter, (teams) just said: `We can use you this way and that way.’ “
Gonzales can relate.
