Roland Hemond remembers Chet Lemon from the time he was an energetic 20-year-old prospect.
Former White Sox teammates Ken Kravec and Jorge Orta reminisced last weekend about Lemon’s role as one of the South Side Hitmen 30 years ago.
And even 24-year-old outfielder Brian Anderson shook his head when asked about once competing against Lemon’s dominant 18-and-under Juice program in Florida, which has produced several top players, including Milwaukee’s Rickie Weeks and Prince Fielder.
But Lemon, now 51, has touched more than just past and present Sox. After battling a life-threatening ailment and constructing one of the top amateur baseball programs in the U.S., Lemon admits he’s virtually ready to return to professional ball in a coaching capacity.
“It has been such a rewarding experience,” said Lemon, who spent the first six of his 15 seasons with the Sox before starting his own youth baseball school, which quickly swelled. “I hope one day I get a chance to be able to come back and coach professionally.”
The recruitment and eventual drafting and signing of son Marcus, whom he coached at Eustis High near Orlando, by the Texas Rangers for a $1 million bonus last June has fueled Lemon’s interest in returning to pro ball.
During Marcus’ senior season, Lemon became reacquainted with Oakland general manager and former Detroit teammate Billy Beane. Lemon also is familiar with the successes of former Sox manager Tony La Russa, with whom he played in the minors, as well as Sox GM Ken Williams.
The Sox also selected two of Lemon’s former players in the 2006 draft.
“All the time, you think about all the guys you played with,” Lemon said. “Now they’re all running baseball organizations.”
Lemon recently was appointed AAU’s national baseball chairman, a zenith on the amateur level for a three-time American League All-Star outfielder who once had former NFL No. 1 pick Ricky Bell block for him at Fremont High in Los Angeles in the early 1970s.
“The biggest investments we have are our kids,” said Lemon, who added Orta will become involved in an AAU program in Chicago. “They’re like putty. You ought to see these kids when we work with them at ages 9 to 12.”
Lemon’s style is all out when it comes to a kid’s commitment to baseball, ignoring the seemingly insurmountable odds of those who reach the majors.
“Kids with dreams and goals to be a major-leaguer are so moldable,” said Lemon, who reached the majors at 20. “As young kids, they hear the chances of making it to the majors is a million to 1. I’ve never told a kid that.
“I’ve told them, `Someone saw the Willie Mayses, the Hank Aarons, the Babe Ruths.’ It’s not enough to say, `This is what I want to do.’ You have to show that this is what you want.
“You can’t be on that sofa playing that Nintendo and believe playing baseball is going to be your goal. There’s somebody somewhere taking flies, grounders, batting practice. If that’s what you really want to do, you have to demonstrate with your actions.”
Lemon has made the most of a chance that nearly wasn’t afforded him. He was diagnosed with polycythemia, a rare blood disorder, in his final season as a player in 1990. He suffered two ruptured blood vessels last February that put his life in jeopardy.
But thanks to medical treatment and the assistance of wife Gigi, who serves on the Florida AAU board, Lemon recovered and looks as fit as he did as a rangy center fielder.
“When I got better after the first time, the Chet Lemon School of Baseball (which he started in 1993 and involved the sons of Frank Viola and Tim Raines) got bigger,” Lemon said. “I was determined to make this work for kids.”
Lemon’s involvement has allowed him to reunite in Florida with former major-leaguers Tino Martinez, Ron LeFlore, Dave Martinez, Chris Knapp, Robby Thompson and Tom Gordon–all of whom have sons who have participated in AAU programs throughout Florida.
He also follows the progress of the program’s alums like Pittsburgh’s Sean Burnett, Kansas City’s Zack Greinke and the Angels’ Casey Kotchman.
“In my wildest drams, I never would have dreamed it would have grown this big,” Lemon said. “We’re responsible for 100,000 athletes.”
Only losing, not health, tempers Lemon’s ambition toward returning to professional ball.
“You get the itch to coach and manage, but my wife says to have a great year over 162 games, you can’t imagine losing 62 games,” Lemon said. “She said I’d go crazy over losing five.”
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mgonzales@tribune.com
