Ben Petrick was not really looking to get back into professional baseball. Family time is his top priority these days. But when the Diamondbacks brought their Northwest League affiliate to his suburban Portland neighborhood this summer, it seemed time.
That natural entree turned into a perfect match.
Petrick's title is consultant to player development for the Hillsboro Hops, but his role is probably better defined as "life coach." Petrick knows baseball after spending five seasons in the major leagues, but he bring so much more to the young players, many of whom are in their first season. His lessons in courage and mental toughness -- forged while battling through Young-Onset Parkinson's disease -- are the lasting legacy to the players he has touched this season.
Life coach?
"That's perfect," said Braden Shipley, Arizona's 2013 first-round draft pick, who opened the season with the Hops before a late promotion to Class A South Bend. "He'll give you advice on baseball, but he's not there to dissect a swing or a delivery. What he's there for is to show people that this is what I had to go through, and this is what I have to deal with on a daily basis. Life's not so bad.
"He's probably one of the greatest guys I've ever met. His situation has to be tough. What I respect is how positive he is. That to me is inspiring. That shows me I don't have it rough. He never has a frown on his face. He always has a smile."
A three-sport standout in high school in Hillsboro, Petrick was Colorado's second-round choice in the 1995 draft, a catcher built like a strong safety with seemingly unlimited potential. A player so exciting that the Rockies upped their bonus offer to lure him away from a scholarship offer to play football at Arizona State. He was a star in waiting.
"The total package," said Diamondbacks special assistant Bob Gebhard, the Rockies' general manager when Petrick was drafted. "He was just a special kid. He was fearsome. He was bright. He could call and control a game."
What Petrick (PEE-trick), 36, had no control over was the insidious intrusion of the Young-Onset Parkinson's at age 22 (the typical age of a Parkinson's sufferer is 62) that curtailed his career.
He would keep his precious pills in the back pocket of his uniform pants while on the field to make sure he gave himself the correct dosage of medicine at the right time, necessary to regulate his symptoms. He underwent radical brain surgery, deep brain stimulation, not once but twice, because he got an infection and almost died after the first one.
The title of his auto-biography is a reference to the swap he made, devoting himself not to the large crowds at major league stadiums but to his family and his daughter, Makena. He and his wife, Kellie, a school teacher in Hillsboro, have a second child now, Madison. The book will leave a reader in tears and at the same time motivated because of what he went through.
Petrick certainly had a positive influence on the Hops. He spent part of every home game with the team, whose season ended Tuesday. Sometimes he was there for batting practice and early work. Sometimes he was in the dugout during the games. Every time he was welcomed. He helped rookie catcher Elvin Soto with some of the finer points of his position, and he talked to others about swing technique. But that is not what most took away.
"Whenever he was at the ballpark he had a positive nature about him, and he was always a guy who was smiling and happy to be out there," said outfielder Zach Esquerra. "He is a guy who has been through the ups and downs of the game and someone who had been successful at the highest level. It was really beneficial to pick his brain and learn about his approach and his overall perspective of hitting and playing."
Petrick lives in a cul-de-sac in a house next to his parents about
two miles from the park, and he makes the drive every time he visits. He
can control his symptoms through a small device -- about the size
of a garage-door opener -- that sends signals to his brain via a small
panel placed under the skin on the left side of his chest. Wires are
connected under his skin to four sensors in his brain. His doctor sets
the parameters, and Petrick can tweak it accordingly. The nature of the
disease requires regular adjustments in medication, but an occasional
slowness of speech is the only noticeable effect.
Shipley and Petrick seemed to form a connection, perhaps in part because of their similar roots. Shipley was born and raised in Oregon, and his grandfather lives in the same neighborhood as Petrick's father, who had been diagnosed with Parkinson's seven months before Ben was.
Struggles are not uncommon for a young player in his first foray into the foreign world of the pro game, and Shipley underwent the typical early season growing pains, getting hit had in a few games. It weighed on him, perhaps more so because as a first-round draft pick, high expectations were part of the baggage. Petrick noticed.
"When I was struggling," Shipley said, "he pulled me aside. 'You were drafted for a reason. Everybody knows you have the stuff to pitch at this level. It's about staying the course and enjoying playing the game.' "
"He told me guys can put too much pressure on themsevles early in their career, and it just eats on them. 'I've been there.' I told myself, have fun.' That has stuck with me.
"I'm playing baseball. That's pretty cool. He was totally right. He could see that I was super tense, trying too hard, battling myself instead letting my abilities take over. He hit the nail right on the head. Ever since then, I've relaxed."
Shipley is 1-0 with a 2.61 ERA at South Bend and has not given up more than two runs in any of his four starts. He is in line to start the second game of the Silver Hawks' first-round Midwest League playoff series against Great Lakes on Wednesday.
Petrick's lessons come from personal experience.
"I had a lot of problems dealing with the amount of failure that comes in the game of baseball, and it took a while to mentally get a grip on the adversity," Petrick said. "So I just make sure I'm aware of how these young players are handling themselves, and I reach out if I think someone needs something. I try to keep an eye out for the look of frustration, confusion, and someone who is down.
"I just try to be open and honest about my experiences. I find that ballplayers come from wherever they did, and they are usually the best from that area. When they are, it's only natural to kind of a sense of invincibility, even in their psyche. So when they struggle for the first time, it's a shock to the system. For some, I think it is hard to admit they are struggling. So I am just honest about my struggles both in the game and in life and make them feel comfortable in talking and sharing."
D-backs bench coach Alan Trammell was the manager in Detroit in Petrick's final major league season, 2003, and Trammell remembered a "delightful young man. He's always upbeat. Always pleasant."
Like many who have played the game, Trammell understands the value of Petrick's presence.
"It's always good when it's going well, but we all know in baseball there is so much failure," Trammell said. "It stinks. The mental strain of going out there each and every day and performing after you haven't performed like you are hoping for. You don't have that luxury of taking a day or two and kind of regrouping. A lot of times, you are right back out there in the fire and you have to try to perform and try to figure it out."
D-backs player development director Mike Bell is appreciative of the time Petrick spent with the Hops this season and would like to expand his role next season if the right situation presents itself.
Opening day is one of Petrick's fondest memories of his first season with the Hops. That, and the friendships he has made.
"I think that more of what I look forward to is seeing the guys go up the organizational ladder towards the big leagues," he said.
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