The following report is from Will Bigby, lead baseball correspondent for Treasure Valley Sports.* * * * * * *
It's a warm, sunny Tuesday morning in January, something Boise residents would consider foreign. But here in Tucson, Arizona, home of the Rob Cramer Performance Academy, it's just another day for thirty or so of the country's top amateur baseball athletes. However this day seems different than yesterday afternoon when I walked the grounds. Instead of the casual hitting drills and pitching sessions I witnessed, players and instructors circle the batting cage with their eyes affix on the lefty in the batter's box, putting on a show.
CRACK!
The swing sends a ball on the trajectory of a clothesline into the left-center gap, splitting two teenagers shagging the incoming projectiles.
CRACK!
A slicing line drive, no more than 20 feet off the ground, cuts thru the thin Arizona air before ricocheting off the left field fence.
CRACK!
A flyball to the opposite field seemingly never stops reaching its peak until it lands 400 feet later, rolling to a stop against a golf cart near the parking lot.
From out of the cage, showing just a hint of sweat despite the 88 degree heat, is Boise Spud sensation Dennis French. He flashes a sheepish "ah shucks" smirk as he rips the velcro enclosures on his batting gloves. French is spending his second straight off-season at the Performance Academy, working on his craft before spring training begins later next month. Joining him is teammate Yunosuke Terada, the man they call "Godzilla," an apropos moniker considering the tall, lean Japanese player is coming off a season hitting 48 home runs.
Terada takes a few pitches inside the cage, sizing up the instructor who drew the short straw in order to throw batting practice to two Brewster Baseball Association stars. His first cut produces a pop-up straight into the netting of the cage, rattling around against the steel framework. Terada grunts in disappointment and adjusts his Spuds ballcap, rotating it backwards like a Boise teenager at the mall.
The next pitch it swung at and shoots out into the outfield at seemingly twice the velocity it was delivered. Terada takes a ball outside, lets another pitch go he deems too low, then swings again, sending another laser into the outfield before it finds it way to the warning track dirt. Godzilla digs into the box. He's ready.
THWACK!
A moonshot to right-center that disappears over the fence.
THWACK!
Another deep fly carries the fence, narrowly missing an innocent bystander jogging the perimeter of the facility.
"You plan on buying us new balls, Yuno?," jokes Rob Cramer, owner of the Performance Academy. Cramer, a veteran of 11 seasons in the BBA before retiring in 2024, is straight out of central casting. Weathered but athletically handsome, huge forearms that now accompany a paunch midsection courtesy of Arizona's finest buffets, and enough chewing tobacco crammed into his lower lip to choke a mere mortal who dare tried to imitate the former slugger. "I know you and Frenchy will be rich soon, so feel free to send us some of that cheddar," he yells for all to hear. Cramer, who once lead the league in WAR back in 2015 en route to two All-Star appearances, squints while surveying the landscape of one of the country's premier baseball training facilities. In it's fifth year of operation, the RCPA is used to elite high school and college players calling it their off-season home, but to have two major league stars in attendance is special, as attested by the crowd gathered to watch the batting cage performances.
One such member of the throng actually arrived to the park with French and Terada and is not as what he seems at first glance. Motonobu Yamashita is small, in a baseball sense, his 6'0', 160 pound frame barely filling out his compression shirt and workout shorts. His Hot Springs Majestic cap blends in with the sea of college and travel ball logo'd headwear. The Japanese shortstop is very much a part of the future of Boise baseball, along with French and Terada. This offseason, the two Spud All-Stars decided to take Yamashita, 19, under their wing, hoping to instill their training -- if not success -- on the young ballplayer. Terada, pulling double-duty as Yamashita's interpreter for the trip, sees a bright future for his fellow countryman. "Goldie can be a special player, he just needs to put in the work."
"Goldie," a nickname stemming from the shiny dental crown the shortstop has worn since high school, has cheetah-like speed on the basepaths and in the field, along with a vacuum for a glove, as well as a bat the wields with precision like the knife of a trained sushi chef. While Yamashita will likely never have the same power that the other two Spuds are putting on display this morning, the Boise front office can live with that. What they do worry about is his effort and drive. Enter French and Terada.
Yamashita, a high-profile international free agent signing in 2036, has spent the last two seasons in two minor league levels, starting in Rookie Ball to Short-A this past season. Coaches and manager on both teams have yet to impart an improved work ethic on the wunderkind. Some scouts believed the game came too easy to Yamashita at a young age, consistently dominating the competition in Japan. Consider the fact that half-way through his senior season in high school, in the midst of batting .483, Yamashita decided to start bat left-handed, despite never doing so before. Yamashita continued to rap singles, doubles and triples, hitting .325 exclusively from the left-side. Then there was "The At-Bat Heard 'Round The World." During his senior year playoffs, Yamashita found his team up 9-1 in the championship game. He was 4-for-4 on the day, all as a lefty, and he casually strolled up to the plate in the 8th inning. Yamashita proceeded to put on an outrageous show of dances, shakes, jumps and bat twirls. Was he upstanding the opponent or merely bored? The at-bat was caught on film and helped Yamashita become an internet sensation, for better or worse.
The YouTube clip of Yamashita during a 2035 high school at-bat has over 3.1 million views.
Yamashita, speaking thru Terada, blushes when recalling the moment. "I was so stupid," Goldie says with his head down. "There's no place for that. I need to look up to Yuno and be more like him." Since become a professional after signing a $5M bonus, Yamashita has dropped the at-bat antics as well as the left-handed hitting experiment. This is the first off-season that Yamashita has dedicated to training and working out, rather than taking a break until spring training. Terada tells me that his protege has decided to focus on improving his offense, as many believe Yamashita has the potential to be a regular .300 hitter in the big leagues to go along with his game-changing defense and base running. "We have the makings of a really good team," Terada tells me, "and we think Goldie can be a part of it in a year or two. It's up to him to put in the work because he has all the skills."
Yamashita quietly saunters into the batting cage, relieving a lumbering collegiate slugger with six inches and sixty pounds on the professional shortstop. Yamashita makes his way to the batter's box normally reserved for left-handed hitters and pauses for a second, before turning his head and smiling in my direction, the Arizona sun producing a nova of light off his golden tooth. Yamashita steps over the plate and settles into the more appropriate chalked rectangle. He chokes down on his bat, takes a deep breath and nods to the pitcher behind the protective netting on the mound.
CRACK!
