MLB

Grandson of Sox legend carving his own path to big leagues

TRENTON — The name Carl Yastrzemski is baseball royalty in New England. A Hall of Fame left fielder and first baseman, Triple Crown winner, Captain Carl was Mr. Red Sock for more than two decades.

Now keep the last name, but throw Mike in front of it, and have the youngster grow up in Red Sox country.

Pressure doesn’t even begin to describe Mike Yastrzemski’s adolescence. The grandson of the great Boston slugger faced the same kind of scrutiny growing up that Carl had to deal with as a professional athlete.

“There were always people in the stands, no matter what level, that had things to say,” said Anne-Marie Yastrzemski, Mike’s mother, in a phone interview. “He always had to try harder to prove himself.”

And, yet, here he is, a fast-rising prospect in the Orioles system, a speedy outfielder who finds himself at Double-A Bowie just 14 months after Baltimore selected him in the 14th round of the 2013 MLB First-Year Player Draft, one of just two minor leaguers to have double-digit home runs, doubles, triples and stolen bases this season.

“He seems to handle it well,” Carl said. “I remember when he played Little League [and] American Legion and for St. John’s Prep [in high school], it didn’t seem to bother him.”

Known as “Yaz” just like his grandfather was, Mike, 24, was drawn to baseball years before he was old enough to understand his grandfather’s Hall-of-Fame pedigree. As a toddler, he was only happy when he had a baseball in his hands — footballs, basketballs and soccer balls be damned.

“The first words out of his mouth were, ‘I’m going to play baseball when I grow up,’ ” Anne-Marie said jokingly.

“My mom used to tell me I swung my tooth-brush in my crib before I could walk,” he said before Bowie faced Trenton recently. “I guess I was into baseball my whole life.”

Mike and his grandfather are very close. They talk several times a month, about baseball, life and Carl’s ever-improving golf game. When he was a teenager, Mike used to attend Red Sox spring training with Carl, and he attended World Series games in 2004 and 2007 in which his grandfather threw out the ceremonial first pitch, experiences that only enhanced his drive.

Mike said the best advice his grandfather gave him was separating baseball from his personal life, not letting it engulf his every moment. Carl has given Mike pointers, too, including weekly batting cage sessions during high school, but it’s more in general terms now. They don’t break down his swing on a weekly basis.

“It’s really just kind of understanding an approach to the game,” Mike said. “He always taught me to be aggressive and attack the fastball. A lot of the stuff isn’t rocket science, but being able to pick his mind at a young age definitely helped because at that point I was young and eager to learn the game, and he was able to help with little mechanical things that maybe the normal eye wouldn’t be able to see.

“It’s almost like I got a head start on the mental side of the game [from him], which is huge.”

Carl, 74, who spends his summers in Massachusetts and winters in Florida, hasn’t attended Mike’s minor league games because he “gets too nervous.” But he has been following Mike closely, watching replays of his at-bats online. If Mike does it make it to the majors, Carl will be there for his debut, though he is not sure how his nerves will handle it.

“We’ll wait and find out,” Carl said, laughing. “I’m very, very thrilled. He’s a hard worker, and he’ll work as hard as he can trying to get to the big leagues.”

Mike was drafted by the Red Sox in 2009 in the 36th round out of high school, and the Mariners took him in the 30th round in 2012. But he stayed in school at Vanderbilt.

Orioles scout Adrian Dorsey was drawn to Mike when he starred with the Commodores because of his “instincts,” a word he repeated often in a phone interview, a natural ability to make the right play. Yastrzemski, Dorsey recalled, had an advanced approach at the plate for a college player in terms of pitch selection and patience. He threw to the right base and would take the extra base, but rarely ran into outs.

“There’s a million things Mike does on a daily basis that can help you win a baseball game,” Dorsey said. “He’s always one step ahead. His instincts are just off the charts. Everything he does, he’s doing it for a reason. No wasted motion whatsoever. He’s precise in everything he does.”

Mike has flown through the Orioles system, following four seasons at Vanderbilt, where he earned a starting job as a freshman and became a mainstay for one of the nation’s elite programs.

The younger “Yaz” began this year at Low-A Delmarva, Md., before moving to High-A Frederick on June 19. Less than a month later, he was promoted to Double-A Bowie on July 16. In his first game with the Baysox, Yastrzemski had four hits. He has handled himself well there, hitting .270 with a .799 OPS. Altogether, he has hit .299 in 111 games this season, with 13 home runs, 15 triples, 31 doubles, 70 RBIs and 17 stolen bases.

It still is early to predict what Yastrzemski will be in the big leagues. He is hitting leadoff for Bowie and thriving there. Dorsey compares him with Orioles outfielder Nick Markakis, and Bowie manager Gary Kendall envisions a productive big league career because of his ability to hit to all fields with power, play all three outfield positions and steal a base when called upon. Orioles executive vice president Dan Duquette has his own comparison.

“He reminds me of Mike Yastrzemski,” the executive said, flatly. “He looks like an everyday ball player.”

It wasn’t always so easy for Mike. Growing up in Red Sox country in Andover, Mass., everyone knew the last name Yastrzemski, everyone wanting to share a story about his famous grandfather. He lost his father, also named Mike — who reached Triple-A himself as a player — in 2004 after the 43-year-old suffered a heart attack.

He often tried to do too much, to live up to that big last name. There was non-stop heckling from fans, opposing players and classmates. Anne-Marie heard it all from her spot in the stands.

“He’s no Carl Yastrzemski. … He’s only here because of his grandfather. … He’s no good.”

His grandfather was an immortal, so Mike felt he had to be elite, too — had to be the one to collect the game-winning hit or make the game-saving catch, be the star every day.

The change occurred sometime between the start of his senior year at St. John’s Prep and freshman season at Vanderbilt. He decided there was nothing he could do to change the reaction people had to his famous last name.

Trying harder wasn’t going to make him a better player, but a worse one in fact. He had to lose the rabbit ears. Moving down south helped, too. He was able to develop at his own pace, without the constant, unfair comparisons.

“He realized that he had to embrace the fact he had a famous last name and just be himself on the field and off the field,” Anne-Marie said.

He was done trying to prove himself. Mike became a selfless grinder. Kendall and Bowie teammate Glynn Davis, who was with Mike in Single-A, raved about his work ethic, his desire and determination. He’s not a legacy case.
“He wants to make a name for himself,” Davis said. “He wants this, to eventually, be about him.”

Mike doesn’t consider his last name a burden. He is proud to have it, but he is not looking to get any advantages because of it.

“There’s always going to be people who talk about politics and say maybe my name is the reason I’ve gotten somewhere,” Mike said. “But I think once people see the type of work ethic [I have] and the way I play the game, they’ll understand that I’m here for a different reason. I’m just like all these guys. I’m trying to make it the right way. I’m not trying to take a free pass. That wouldn’t feel right. I want to earn it and I want to work my way towards it.”

Just over a year into pro ball, Mike Yastrzemski is blazing his own trail, nearing a lifelong dream. When he does make it to The Show — if he does — it would be a seminal moment, finally catching his superstar grandfather.

“I think it would be real special because we took two completely different paths,” Mike said. “I went to college for four years and he made it one semester at Notre Dame before he knew he wanted to go play [pro ball].

“It would mean a lot, obviously, because it’s a family tradition, but it would mean more because of how much I’ve put into it and how hard I’ve worked to try and get to that ultimate goal.”