A Guide to Spring Training Uniform Numbers
A Guide to Spring Training Uniform Numbers
Congratulations! You’re invited to Spring Training with the big club! Whether this is your first taste of the major league experience or your 20th trip through the Grapefruit and Cactus Leagues, your 2021 season will begin at the highest level. You could stick around up there for 12 hours or 12 years— it’s largely up to you…
…But not entirely. There are forces beyond your control dictating your permanence in camp. For one thing, there’s a whole locker room full of guys fighting for the same roster spot you are. You’ve also got a general manager backed by a squadron of faceless scouts and number crunchers watching from the shadows, looking for something unseen and unknown. The best indication of how the team perceives your value is the number they put on your jersey.
#1 isn’t just what you wear on your back, it’s also how many home runs you hit last season— and that was an inside-the-park job. It’s a good thing you’re faster down the first-base line than any of your teammates because you don’t hit the ball out of the infield very often. Fortunately, your blazing speed serves you well in center field or maybe one of the middle infield positions. Back in the day, guys like you batted leadoff, but nowadays you’re hitting eighth or ninth in the order. At least the fantasy owners love you for your stolen bases!
#17
Welcome back, old-timer! You might not be the fleet-footed center fielder you were ten years ago, but the team is still counting on you to handle left field and bat seventh 350-400 times. More than that, you’re a fantastic clubhouse presence, and you’ll have a gaggle of rookies trailing you like ducklings before the end of February. Your last big contract dried up a year or two ago, and these days you’re playing for love, not money. But hey, you can still rake! Just look at the ball explode off your bat in batting practice, easily clearing the fence— no wait, that’s your teenage son! Looks like he’ll wear #24 in a few years. Speaking of which…
#24
The #24 jersey must come with a magic lamp because you arrive in Spring Training with all the fanfare of Prince Ali Ababwa in Agrabah. You smile easily and willingly for the voracious paparazzi. And why not? With a nine-figure contract extension in your back pocket, life is as simple as barbells, bombs, and babes (not necessarily in that order). You’re assigned two spacious lockers in the clubhouse— one for baseball gear and one just for footwear and sunglasses. The McLaren in your parking spot is the envy of all your teammates— beg your pardon, it’s a Lotus this year. You must have paid for it with the earnings from the single monotone line you delivered in that energy drink commercial that aired during the Super Bowl.
#35
It’s a tradition for someone to have a “best shape of his life” article written about them every spring, so this year it may as well be you. At 6’5, you impress the training staff by weighing in at a trimmed-down 235 lb. It’s been a busy offseason for you spent jet-setting all over the country in search of pitching gurus to tighten up your slider. There’s a $100,000 incentive in your contract for reaching 200 innings, and you’re going to make it this year— no matter how much your knee barks and your shoulder howls. You’ve got no time for the Injured List this season; you’re in the best shape of your life, aren’t you?
#58
With a grizzled visage that could curdle milk, you’re a veteran reliever who has clearly Seen Some Things. You bear the mental and physical scars of eight cuts— three by a general manager’s mouse click and five by a surgeon’s scalpel. #58 means nothing to you— in the back of your closet, you keep a #47, a #61, and a pair of #53s from previous stops. Come July, you could just as easily become the closer or unemployed altogether. It’s no matter to you. You’ll keep pitching— somewhere— until your arm detaches at the elbow (again). The bags under your eyes are evidence you haven’t slept more than four hours at a time in years, always chasing one more pitch, one more out, one more inning.
#81
Don’t even bother unpacking, kid. You’re just here for a game of catch, then it’s back to the minor league complex. Maybe they’ll bring you to play third base in the sixth inning when the other team subs in their #79s and #93s. #35 won’t even talk to you, much less learn your name. #58 snarled at you and made you cry. You don’t really belong up here— not yet anyway. You’ll spend the year learning to hit a curveball in Double-A, then hope for a lower uniform number next spring.