Vance Allen Wilson

SELF PORTRAIT

Date and place of birth:

March 17, 1973, Mesa, Ariz.

Family:

Wife Bridget, daughter Peyton

Occupation:

Manager, Kane County Cougars;

retired baseball player

My favorite subject in school

was math.

The hardest pitcher I ever faced was

Jose Contreras.

He threw 95, 96 [mph] and threw at so many angles.

The best manager I played for was

Jim Leyland. There’s not even a close second.

If I had any advice for dads, it would be

to journal it. It goes by so fast.

My parents taught me

that you’re not rude to people, you don’t lie, and you do what you’re going to say you do.

A moment in baseball I’ll never forget is

Mike Piazza’s home run in the first game [after the Sept.

11, 2001, attacks]. To be part of the community, on the Mets, when he hit that home, you couldn’t help but cry.

When I was a players’ union representative, I

loved it. It was the first time I did something real-world that was other than baseball. I had to learn the business world, what debt ratio is.

My favorite stadium to play in was

Pittsburgh’s.

It’s just small and it’s [all about] baseball.

My favorite home run was

off Johan Santana in 2006.

The best thing that happened to me in baseball was

being redshirted [at Mesa Community College]. I learned a lot that year.

I drink my coffee with

cream, a little half and half. But I can drink it black;

I’m pretty low maintenance.

One word to sum me up:

Accountable.

SPRINGDALE - Every year, there are baseball prospects that scouts label as “can’t miss.” Vance Wilson could have easily missed.

Although Wilson had some natural ability, the longtime Springdale resident was by no means assured of his eight seasons as a Major League Baseball player.

No college thought Wilson was worthy of a baseball scholarship, or even money to buy his textbooks. Some 1,225 players were chosen in the 1993 draft before he was picked by the New York Mets.

“Surreal,” Wilson says. “Everything about my career was surreal.”

Surreal. Wilson uses that word often when describing his career. In two years he went from a junior college redshirt - someone who wasn’t considered polished enough to play for Mesa (Ariz.) Community College - to a Junior College All-American.

Thrown into a farm system loaded with promising catchers, Wilson spent eight years in the minorleagues before sticking for good in the majors in 2001. He was great when healthy, but a series of injuries kept pushing back his arrival in the big leagues.

On other major league teams he might have started, but he spent his entire major league career as a backup, and most of it behind the best-hitting catcher of his generation.

“He’s one of the most-professional players I’ve ever been around,” says Colorado Rockies infielder Ty Wigginton, a teammate of Wilson’s from 2002-04. “He never let [being a backup] get him down;

he always strived to work hard and be better.”

Wilson’s teams made it to the World Series in 2000 and 2006. He hit home runs off four different Cy Young Award winners, and was the toughest catcher to steal against in the National League - a status that put him in the center of a national debate over his playing time.

Then came more injuries, elbow reconstructionsurgeries in back-to-back years, and a return to the minors. Only this time he was in Springdale, taking his daughter to school in the morning and then playing baseball in the evenings in the Northwest Arkansas city he’d called home since 1994.

At his wife’s urging, he started a charity foundation, raising more than $150,000 in three years for Children’s House, which assists abused children and will soon be moving from Fayetteville into a new facility in Springdale. (Wilson and his wife, Bridget, served as chairmen for The Campaign for Children, which helped build the new Children’s House.)

And although his playing days are over, Wilson may have just found his true calling. This summer he’ll be the manager of the Kane County (Ill.) Cougars, the Class A affiliate of the Kansas City Royals. He’s so excited that he can barely contain himself.

“He’s always had a perspective on the game and humanity and what it takes to hang in there,” says Zeke Zimmerman, who coached Wilson in college and is now the pitching coach of the Los AngelesAngels’ rookie league affiliate, the Orem (Utah) Owlz. “That’s what professional baseball is. We’re not all superstars. There are a lot of guys who just have to hang on and they can have a nice career and a nice life.

“Now he’s able to touch kids with his foundation, with his life story. The Royals are fortunate to have him.”

FROM WALK-ON TO STAR

Instinct says that when a hard projectile is flying at you, you duck out of the way.

Wilson is wired differently. He wanted to stop whatever was headed for him.

Before he was 5 years old, he was already playing catcher. A few years later, a teacher in his elementary school would routinely pull Wilson out of class and blast hockey pucks at him for an hour.

“I was the best blocker [of balls in the dirt] in the big leagues,” Wilson says. “It had something to do with, when you’re in fifth grade, the thirdgrade teacher comes and gets you and is whipping pucks at you.”

The middle of three children, Wilson grew up in Mesa, part of Phoenix’s East Valley. His father is in construction, and his mother was a checkout clerk at an Air Force base commissary who today works in human resources for the Arizona National Guard.

Wilson made the varsity baseball, football and basketball teams as a sophomore at Red Mountain High School, but he says this was in part because the school was brand new.

“I don’t want to say [my neighborhood] was on the wrong side of the tracks, but it was definitely a lower-income area,” Wilson says. “It was an awesome place to grow up, though. ... We played every sport. That’s the difference between then and now; kids didn’t have to specialize.”

Growing up, Wilson assumed he would follow his father’s footsteps and go into construction. His lack of scholarship offers upon graduating from high school seemed to confirm this, but Zimmerman thought he might have a future in baseball.

Then the pitching and catching coach at Mesa Community College, Zimmerman had been at a Red Mountain game when he saw Wilson pick a runner off third. He was impressed with the kid’s arm but laid it out for him straight: If he wanted to play at Mesa, he needed to walk on - and before he could ever get in a game, he’d need a ton of work.

With few other options, Wilson received a small academic scholarship and walked on, knowing it would be at least a year until he played in a game.

“His attitude was incredible, to be able to do that,” Zimmerman says. “He had to come to practice every day and work hard, catch in the bullpens during games knowing he wasn’t going to get to play. That says a lot about a human being.”

Wilson had a great throwing arm, but his mechanics were unsound. He and Zimmerman worked together every day; the coach says it was important to synchronize the hitting and throwing motions in Wilson’s lower body.

Hour after hour, Zimmerman would have Wilson throw and then hit off a tee.

After his redshirt year, Wilson had a solid year for Mesa in 1993. That June, the New York Mets took him in the 44th round as a “draft and follow” candidate.

What followed was a fantastic sophomore season, in which Wilson was named a Junior College All-American. He considered going on to play for a four-year college - he met his future wife, Springdale native Bridget Hensen, during a recruiting trip to the University of Arkansas - but ultimately decided to turn professional.

He credits Zimmerman for his amazing transformation.

“He rebuilt me from the ground up,” Wilson says. “I owe him more than anybody in my career for what I did baseball-wise.”

A LONG JOURNEY

Wilson was just over a month away from returning to the majors when he injured his elbow again.

After a trade, Wilson had spent 2005-06 with the Detroit Tigers. The second year had been magical; he had batted .283 and was healthy the entire season, and the Tigers had shocked the baseball world by going from 91 losses to American League champions.

Then, he needed a pair of Tommy John (elbow reconstruction) surgeries. Aside from a failed three-game rehabilitation stint in the minorsin 2007, he didn’t play at all in 2007 or 2008.

“When he blew it out the second time, he said: ‘I guess I’m going to come home. I’m sick of this,’” Bridget Wilson recalls. “That’s not Vance. It’s hard to beat him down. I said: “‘You’re not going to go out that easy. We’ve been through way too much to just throw up our arms.’”

A hard-driving player, Wilson’s professional career was plagued by injuries. He entered the Mets’ farm system in 1994 and played at five different levels, making four All-Star teams and helping win a Florida State League (high Class A) championship.

By 1998, he was in Class AAA, one level from the majors. He had cups of coffee with the Mets in ’99 and 2000, appearing in five games, but surely would have gotten there sooner had it not been for injuries.

Between 1998 and 2000 he broke bones in his arm twice, and missed more time when one of the screws inside it broke off.

“He was a prospect, but not a top-tier one,” says Tony Tijerina of Binghamton, N.Y., Wilson’s teammate and roommate in 1996. “He was in a system where five major league catchers were developed, so it was not exactly an open-door opportunity for him. He really grinded it out, and that’s a big credit to him, because nothing was handed to him.”

At one point, Wilson broke his wrist a single day before the Mets’ backup catcher was injured, costing him a promotion to the major league team.

It was a cruel blow for the cash-strapped couple.

Minor leaguers get paid little - Vance earned $1,300 per month while in Class AA - and Bridget made more money working part time than Vance did as a player. They lived with roommates during the season, and in her parents’ Springdale house during the winter.

For the first few years of his career, Vance had other jobs in the off-season, including one stint as a substitute physical education teacher at Lee Elementary School in Springdale.

“You don’t realize how poor you are until it’s all said and done,” says Bridget, who is now a lab assistant and earning her bachelor’s degree in psychology from the UA. “Then you look back and it’s like, ‘I don’t know how we ate.’”

The 28-year-old Wilson made it to the majors for good in 2001. He quickly established himself as one of the game’spremier defensive catchers, one year leading the National League in percentage of baserunners caught stealing.

His exceptional defense brought him national attention. The Mets’ starting catcher, Mike Piazza, was widely considered among the best offensive catchers in baseball history, but he was nowhere near as effective as Wilson at shutting down the running game or blocking pitches in the dirt.

The debate over whether Piazza should switch positions to accommodate Wilson raged for years in the media, in New York and nationally, but Wilson says Piazza never held it against him. Nor was Wilson bothered by the intense scrutiny in New York; his rugged play made him afan favorite.

Wilson prided himself on preparing as though he was going to be in the lineup every day, instead of every few days.

“I looked at it as though I’m a starter,” Wilson says. “My job is to be ready to start today, and if I’m not, then I need to be ready for the next day - never get caught offguard.

‘‘I loved it [in New York],” he adds. “I was devastated when I got traded.”

PROVIDING OPPORTUNITIES

The roughness of Wilson’s neighborhood ended at his front door.

Wilson’s parents instilled firm values in their children, emphasizing traits like honesty and perseverance, yet they were also supportive and never pushy. He remembers other children who weren’t nearly as fortunate.

Vance and Bridget started Wilsons3Foundation in February 2007. Dedicated to the prevention of child abuse, the foundation got under way when the Wilsons made a $25,000 donation.

The foundation has held three annual bowling fundraisers, raising more than $150,000 for Children’s House. (Their daughter, Peyton, recently won a Sprout Award from the Kids Directory of Northwest Arkansas for starting Peyton’s Pals Lemonade and Cookie Stand, whichraised $1,700 for Children’s House.)

“You can have all the talent, but if you’re not given the opportunity - and I’m not talking about sports, I’m talking about any walk of life - it’s hard to accomplish things,” Wilson says. “ Children of abuse and neglect, it’s not their fault; they’re just not given an opportunity.”

Many professional athletes struggle with the notion that they are role models, but Wilson embraced it. In New York, he read books to underprivileged kids and spent time with “Tuesday’s Children,” the families of 9/11 victims. He volunteered with the Miracle League of Michigan and provided Christmas gifts for Methodist Children’s Home.

“The Kansas City Royals aren’t paying you just to be a baseball player; they’re paying you to be a championshiptype player,” he says. “To me, when you define that, it’s all [aspects] of your life. You should be a role model.”

Even though Wilson generally keeps a low profile in Springdale, where he moved shortly before marrying Bridget, he has tried to be a role model locally as well.He has worked with children of incarcerated parents and went out of his way to be an ambassador for the Northwest Arkansas Naturals.

Wilson played for the Naturals in 2009, after the Royals signed him and assigned him to their Class AA affiliate. It was his last year as a player, and although he wasn’t recalled to the majors, in at least one sense it was the most enjoyable year of his career.

He got to spend the summer at home, and for the first time in years, wasn’t separated from Bridget and Peyton.

“For Vance, it’s all about, ‘How can I be with my family and do what I love?’” Bridget says. “He would say, ‘I can’t believe I get to walk Peyton to school and get to play baseball.’ It was a great experience.”

As the oldest player on that Naturals team, Wilson served as a mentor for the players, most of whom were at leasta decade younger. Coaching felt like a natural fit.

After spending a year away from the game, the Royals asked him to help out at their instructional facility in Arizona last fall. When it was over, they offered him the position as their Class A manager in Kane County.

Bridget and Peyton, 10, will be joining him this summer, after Peyton spends a month in Canada as part of the People to People Ambassador Programs. Until his girls arrive, Wilson will have with him a customized plaque his daughter gave him this Christmas, reminding him to have fun and to remember how hard baseball is.

“My best thing is my ability to relate and my ability to communicate,” Wilson says. “These kids will never go through anything that I haven’t gone through. I was an All-Star in the minor leagues and I sucked in the minor leagues. I made it to the big leagues, and one year I led the big leagues in throw-out percentage. In 2003 I went 1 for 48.

“I’ve had every injury, been on last-place teams and been in two World Series. What could you go through that I haven’t gone through as a player ?”