Fantasy camper with a bum knee finds himself in top form — as a journalist

BY DAVID DEBOLT

As I was hobbling toward San Francisco’s Oracle Park, something told me this would be a humbling assignment.

On this brisk November morning, I was scheduled to rendezvous with a courier at the Juan Marichal statue just outside the ballpark, head through stadium security and sign liability waiver forms. You know, in case something happened.

We weren’t about to parachute out of an airplane above China Basin. No, this was the sort of paperwork you fill out when — like me — you are a washed-up junior college ballplayer participating in the San Francisco Giants’ fall fantasy camp.

It’s a program that invites fans to spend two days on the diamond at Oracle Park — or a week on the field, if you go to the fantasy camp held in Scottsdale, Arizona, each January — living out their childhood dreams with coaching from the likes of former Giants pitcher Bill Laskey and former Oakland A’s and Giants lefty Vida Blue.

It had been a decade-plus since I last stepped between the chalk lines on a baseball field, and it showed. Years of pounding a keyboard instead of pavement as a newspaper reporter and now editor had ill-prepared me for what lay ahead. Attempts to break in my mitt had failed. That glove was as stiff as my right knee. The moment I clutched the railing and limped out of the first base dugout was the first indicator that my old playing days really were over — and that fact would be on full display.

But the assignment soon reminded me why so many of us love the game, so much so that dozens of adults would take off work in the middle of the week to attend a fantasy camp. It also reminded me of an important moment in my life, the day I hung up my cleats to pursue journalism full time and why I owe it to a baseball great.

Tom Miles, of Redmond, Oregon, rocks out on air guitar before going up to bat during Fantasy Camp in November.

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On this particular chilly Monday, hoping to disguise my rust, I had donned a Humm Baby-era jersey, hat and jacket borrowed from a friend. It took no time, however, for Laskey to spot my bum knee, which tightens up especially on cold mornings.

Laskey, a Giants great who runs multiple fantasy camps, is godlike around these parts. He’s the man whose permission was needed for the camp to allow a scribe to spend a few hours with fans who had paid to play on the same field as their idols.

The fantasy players, all men with the exception of one woman, had come from across Northern California and as far away as Villa Hills, Kentucky. Some 44 players were spread over four teams coached by former Giants, who offered a mixture of warmups, skills clinics and games, which were limited to two hours over two days.

It was a BYO-mitt deal, but the rest of the equipment was provided, and anyone 60 or older could use a metal bat. Throwing strikes, I was told, was typically the biggest problem in previous camps, but there had been a few injuries. Although, it seemed, I was the only person who showed up with one to start with.

Laskey and the other coaches signaled it was time to stretch. Oh boy. The calisthenics that seemed so easy in my youth were a problem. And I felt seen. Some of these fantasy folks looked legit, all dressed in official gear, and fans of the players, mostly family members, began to trickle into the seats on the first base line. Even in this atmosphere, in arguably the greatest ballpark in sports, it felt like we were back on the school yard. When it was time to play catch, like a kid on the playground, I had already selected my throwing mate. Everyone else was wearing baseball gear except Tom Miles, from Oregon, who was wearing jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt — and sneakers, like me. Miles seemed to be more into the jams playing over the loudspeaker. During warmups, he told me about partying with rock stars. After a couple of throws, Dave Getsoff, an athletic trainer with the Giants, sidled up to me, likely dispatched by Laskey. Getsoff wanted to check out my knee, and he asked what was up, as I dropped a couple of balls. (I’m going to blame my glove for those.) He offered a wrap for my knee, and we talked about sports injuries. Getsoff has seen his share of injuries at fantasy camps — groin injuries and the like. He told me to take it easy.

The other players broke off into their 11-person teams to begin batting practice and fielding drills. As I headed back toward the dugout, Laskey asked a pointed question.

You gonna write about how you sat out some of the warmups?

Consider it done, Bill.

Somewhere Marvin Webb must be laughing, I told myself. Webb, the last baseball coach I ever had and one of the greatest ball players to ever come out of Richmond, died last August.

The last pitch I ever threw was under Webb at Contra Costa College in San Pablo. He and assistant coach Tim Wallace liked to joke that my four-seam and twoseam fastball and circle change-up could be clocked by a calendar — “slow, slower and slowest.”

If only he could see me now. As a left-hander, there were only a few positions I was allowed to play growing up. So I hung out around first base to take some grounders and hid out in left field. That was one of the highlights of my day at fantasy camp, standing in the same spot where Barry Bonds snagged fly balls. But I took some hacks in the batting cage behind the dugout and hit a few solid liners.

In my college days, Webb gave out T-shirts that read, “I hit thangs.” They were given to players who hit monster home runs. I never got one then, and I certainly wasn’t deserving today.

It was around this time, I decided to grab my pen and steno pad and do something I knew how to do: talk to people.

In the cages, I met Steve Youtsey, of Foster City. Besides playing in a lawyers’ softball league, Youtsey hadn’t played hardball since Little League in Michigan in 1976. To prepare for his first fantasy camp, he spent the last few months beforehand stretching, playing long toss, doing foot drills and hitting a batting cage in Burlingame. Still, he was recovering from a pulled hamstring. He said it was a dream of his to take batting practice on a professional field.

“It felt awesome,” he said, going over his game day assignment. “Somehow, he’s got me on third base. I can either get out of the way or get hit.”

Over at the on-field batting practice, I talked with a Pleasanton man who recounted his days playing “street ball” against his rival neighborhood in Dublin. We watched as a player I thought was a coach glided around the infield, snatching up ground balls at shortstop. We watched in awe as he took batting practice. He took solid cuts, lining balls into the outfield, with a natural cut.

Attorney Will Ferreira, 39, of Granite Bay, is a fixture at these

Fantasy camp gives Stephen Youtsey, of Foster City, a chance to live out a longheld dream of playing on a professional baseball field.

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camps. And after learning about his backstory, it makes sense why he’d put aside his day job to lace up his cleats at these camps. Ferreira never got to play ball as a teenager. He was kicked out of his home as a young teen and went to work doing odd jobs at places that would hire someone his age.

“I’m making up for lost time,” he said. “If you told me as a kid I could be out here playing on this field . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. “This is like seeing your old friends and family at a reunion.”

Little League and high school to Contra Costa College. Heading east on the Bay Bridge, I recalled how upset Webb had been when I told him I didn’t want to play my sophomore year and instead wanted to focus on running the student newspaper.

Webb sent Willie McGee, one of our assistant coaches, over to speak with me. McGee had spent 18 seasons as an outfielder, primarily with the St. Louis Cardinals, and won two batting titles and the 1985 National League MVP award. Our conversation was short.

I thought about Ferreira’s story on my drive home. Baseball was a constant in my young life, from

“Do you wanna be a baseball player or a journalist?” he asked, no doubt knowing I had no real shot to play beyond CCC. I answered that I wanted to be a reporter. “Go do that,” he said.

Fantasy camps

You don’t have to be a professional athlete to play at Oracle Park or a spring training stadium — and the events there are not limited to baseball. Here are a few ways to extend your MLB season.

The Giants host a two-day fantasy camp for adults at San Francisco’s Oracle Park in November and a weeklong camp at Arizona’s Scottsdale Stadium, typically in January. In 2022, the Arizona session included six days of baseball games, seven nights accommodations, daily breakfast and lunch plus two dinners and custom uniforms and cost $6,500, with a $1,000 discount for returnees. Details will be available at www.mlb.com/ giants/fans as the dates draw near.

The Oakland A’s will host a fantasy camp for adults Jan. 10-16, 2024, at the Lew Wolff Training Center Complex in Mesa, Arizona, where the Athletics spend spring training. Proceeds benefit the Oakland A’s Community Fund. Find more information and sign up to receive details at www.mlb.com/athletics/ fans/fantasy-camp.

The Ballpark Back 9: Last November, the Giants debuted a fairway for baseball and golf fans at Oracle Park, dubbing it a “Giant” version of mini golf with nine holes, dedicated caddies and tee times spread over four days. Tickets started at $99 in 2022. Find details at www.mlb.com/giants/ ballpark/events/golf.

Youth Baseball Camps: The Giants offer baseball day camps for kids ages 4 to 13 at all skill levels. The camps run from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday-Friday ($625) at 16 locations across the Bay Area, including Danville’s Osage Park (June 5-9), Redwood City’s Red Morton Park (June 19-23) and Orinda’s Wagner Ranch Elementary (July 24-28). Find details at www. mlb.com/giants/fans.

Oracle Park Tours: Take a 90-minute behind-the-scenes tour ($17.50$25) and visit areas of the park only accessible to players and staff, including the field, a dugout, a batting cage, the visitors clubhouse, a press box and more. Pregame tours are also offered. Find details at www.mlb.com/ giants/ballpark/tours.