No one would dispute that Rocco Baldelli was one of the classiest guys to play for any of our local professional sports franchises. Think John Lynch, Brad Richards, Derrick Brooks. Baldelli, 26, was bright, polite and well-spoken – as well as a good player who might have been – and may yet be – great. But his rare muscle-fatigue condition made his career questionable.
The Rays stuck by him when he proved generically injury prone and then was diagnosed with that mitochondrial abnormality. The Woonsocket, R.I., native was well compensated to rehab – and to rehab and to rehab.
Better times may – or may not – have been in the offing. The tail end of last season provided more than a medical measure – or Ray – of hope.
But financial realities of a small-market franchise in a sport with no salary cap and some competition-skewing, deep-pocketed behemoths (notably the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox) made keeping Baldelli problematic. He was a free-agent – but one with an asterisk. He was damaged goods – but a local fan favorite who still had a tantalizing upside.
He was offered $500,000 for next season by the Rays. The Red Sox also offered $500,000 but added incentives that the Rays couldn’t touch. He took the Boston deal and returned to New England.
On the way out, he thanked everyone profusely and even took out a half page ad in the St. Petersburg Times to formally and publicly express his gratitude to all the fans.
Frankly, it was disappointing. And not just because the team was losing a good player, a good guy and a community asset. And not just because he signs on with the competition. Especially THAT competition.
But because he had been well rewarded in his tenure here – even when he was much more promise than performance. Not only did he make hundreds of friends and please thousands of fans, but had also made millions of dollars.
In short, Rocco Baldelli always seemed like one of those special sorts, for whom money – especially when you already have a bunch – wasn’t the sine qua non that it is for most other pro athletes.
Such naiveté. “The Little Engine That Could” couldn’t keep him.
And we, of course, can see for ourselves how he does. The Sox and Rays play 18 times each season.