The young baseball player closed the door to his Escalade, the lone luxury car in a sea of Hondas and Toyotas. For Travis Ishikawa, this Escalade is the culmination of all his hard work. He headed toward the locker room, leaving the car in the stadium lot.
It’s 11:30 a.m. on game day. The game doesn’t start until 7 p.m., but it’s a typical morning for Ishikawa, a first baseman for the San Jose Giants. He arrives this early every game day to warm up on his own before his team arrives.
Ishikawa, 21, is a professional baseball player, but not the kind most people imagine.
He doesn’t have a multi-million-dollar contract, he doesn’t have autograph hounds shoving pens in his face, and he lives with a host family set up by the Giants organization.
Nate Schierholtz, a second-year right fielder, is running a little late today. Just like Ishikawa, his best friend on the team, he is chasing the dream he has had since he was 5. He’s in Class A, the lowest rung of professional baseball, a place where many dreams die hard.
“I am going to play this game for as long as it lets me,” Schierholtz said. “I will never quit.”
Ishikawa and Schierholtz’s lives are far from that of their major league counterparts. They don’t have the luxuries. They live for the game, for a chance to make it to the next level. They spend every waking moment chasing this dream.
“Every day, I wake up at around five and go get a workout in,” Ishikawa said. “We don’t have a weight room at the ballpark.”
Ishikawa heads in the direction of the training room, which is occupied by a trainer. Two whirlpools are on each side of the player as he lies down on the training table. “The trainers’ room reminds me of being in high school, except for the fact that in high school we had three trainers,” Ishikawa said.
Despite the lackluster facilities, lack of money and a small fan base, Ishikawa views San Jose as a good home — but it’s time for another, he said.“I definitely am ready to move on in my career. At times I feel like I am going to be stuck in San Jose for the rest of my life,” Ishikawa said.
In an attempt to climb to a higher level of professional baseball, Ishikawa packs his days from the moment he gets out of bed.
“My average day consists of waking up, drinking a protein shake, going to the gym, head here to the park, and then stay here into the late of the night, working to make me a better baseball player,” he said.
It’s a life that does not appeal much to the masses, especially when the average San Jose Giant’s salary is $5,000 to $6,000 annually.
Compared to the average salary of a New York Yankee, which is set at $5,833,334, Ishikawa couldn’t even buy a rim on star Derek Jeter’s Mercedes.
But to Ishikawa, Schierholtz and other young players trying to move up, it’s worth it. They are willing to sacrifice money — or, at least, defer it — to play the game they love.
It is their big league dream.
Schierholtz does not care how little he is paid. He is a second-year minor leaguer, a different kind of breed. Minor leaguers hardly ever even have a home of their own.
“I live with three other teammates in a small apartment,” Schierholtz said, “and it sucks, but at least it is better than living with strangers.”
Ishikawa was a star in high school in Federal Way, Wash. He was lined up to go to Oregon State University on a full scholarship. Then things changed for him. To his surprise, he was chosen in the 21st round of the draft in 2002, with the 637th pick.
He then faced a tough decision: Go to college and have a better chance at the big leagues or take the signing bonus, $1 million, and work hard to make it. He chose route No. 2.
Schierholtz had been excelling since Little League. No matter the sport, he was the best. He played throughout high school at San Ramon Valley High. He had accepted a scholarship offer from the University of Utah. Then, like it did with Ishikawa, something changed.
He was playing summer baseball and had a monstrous statistical year. His coaches, who were based at Chabot College in Hayward, persuaded him to stay home and go to the junior college, at least for a year. He was drafted by the San Francisco Giants the following year.
For minor league players, it’s hard to move up. They have to fight through the feeling of being stuck.
“Feels like quicksand,” said Ishikawa, as he stretched his hamstrings in preparation for the game.
“We only have about one or two players that move up every year to Double-A,” said Joe Ritzo, director of public relations for the San Jose Giants.
Life is not glamorous. “The farthest vacation I can take is to Sacramento to play golf,” said Ishikawa as he played catch with Schierholtz to warm up their arms. “Otherwise, I have to be home to work on my game.”
During off-days and during the off-season, their work does not stop.
“Last year I worked at Old Navy, but this year I spent all off-season working to get stronger and better,” Ishikawa said.
Schierholtz is an avid Ford Mustang fan. He owns two.
“On my off time, I spend it either working on my Mustangs, spending time with my family up in Danville or working on my game,” he said.
After hours of preparation, the game starts. The players go through this routine for 7 1/2 hours a day, 140 games a year.
The “Star-Spangled Banner” is played, and Ishikawa and Schierholtz head to their positions on the right side of the field.
In the third inning, Ishikawa is up. The first pitch comes. Crack! A clean shot clears the fence in right-center.
And for just a moment, it’s goodbye Old Navy, hello light at the end of the tunnel.