The intense emotion displayed on Ivan “Pudge” Rodriguez ‘s face on the cover of his new biography “They Call Me Pudge," perfectly captures the spirit with which he played throughout his 21-year major league career. Newly minted in 2017 as a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame, Rodriguez became part of an exclusive group, joining only Johnny Bench, Carlton Fisk, and Mike Piazza as the living catchers currently enshrined in Cooperstown.
It is obvious after reading through the early chapters of “They Call Me Pudge,” that Rodriguez’s story is one of commitment to the game. From a young age, he showed an insatiable desire not only to play the game, but to love the training that made him into a Hall of Famer. His legendary workouts including making 150-mile roundtrips from Key Biscayne to Key Largo, kept his engine pumping when many thought he was out of gas.
Rodriguez stressed that it was his dedicated training and not anything else that kept him as the top player at his position for two decades. Multiple times during the book, he vehemently denied using steroids.
"Let's make that as crystal clear as possible — I never took steroids," Rodriguez said. "If anyone says differently, they are lying. Here's what I did do: I worked my ass off. I was a guy who played the game the right way. I was disciplined in my workouts and my diet. I worked as hard as I could to do the best that I could - every day for 20-plus years. I loved the game of baseball."
Perusing deeper into Rodriguez’s book uncovers the strategies of the Hall of Fame catcher, as he carefully breaks down how he handled a nubile World Series pitching staff with the Florida Marlins, as well as how he approached Barry Bonds during their faceoff in the 2003 National League Division Series.
“If you don’t have to pitch to him — meaning it’s not bases loaded in a tie game in the ninth inning —put him on first base,” he said. “If you need to pitch to him, our deepest sympathies. And don’t strain a neck muscle or anything turning around.”
When the Texas Rangers thought that Rodriguez was on the decline, he bet on himself, signing a one-year deal with the Marlins in 2003. His leadership steadied their pitching staff, guiding them to an improbable World Series Championship.
Once again left to fend for himself at the end of the season, Rodriguez proved doubters wrong when he signed with the Detroit Tigers in 2004. Detroit’s team doctors felt that Pudge was only worthy of a two-year contract due to his injury history. In order to make the deal work, he gave up guaranteed money to sign a four-year, $40 million contract. This time, Pudge came out a winner, as the Tigers went to the World Series in 2006.
“I knew I was healthy,” he said. “I know I could play the five years, depending on if they picked up the option. And I played eight more years after that. I mean, the doctors can tell you whatever they want to say, but it’s how you feel that counts.”
Omnipresent throughout the book is the fact that Pudge was always a gamer. When he wasn’t playing baseball, he was breaking down video, going over scouting reports, or watching highlights on ESPN. If you are looking for tales of carousing, innuendo, or hi-jinks, look elsewhere, but if you want an inspirational story of how a kid with a golden throwing arm made it to the Hall of Fame all the way from Vega Baja, Puerto Rico, feel free to step in the batter’s box with “They Call Me Pudge.”
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| They Call Me Pudge / Triumph Books |
It is obvious after reading through the early chapters of “They Call Me Pudge,” that Rodriguez’s story is one of commitment to the game. From a young age, he showed an insatiable desire not only to play the game, but to love the training that made him into a Hall of Famer. His legendary workouts including making 150-mile roundtrips from Key Biscayne to Key Largo, kept his engine pumping when many thought he was out of gas.
Rodriguez stressed that it was his dedicated training and not anything else that kept him as the top player at his position for two decades. Multiple times during the book, he vehemently denied using steroids.
"Let's make that as crystal clear as possible — I never took steroids," Rodriguez said. "If anyone says differently, they are lying. Here's what I did do: I worked my ass off. I was a guy who played the game the right way. I was disciplined in my workouts and my diet. I worked as hard as I could to do the best that I could - every day for 20-plus years. I loved the game of baseball."
Perusing deeper into Rodriguez’s book uncovers the strategies of the Hall of Fame catcher, as he carefully breaks down how he handled a nubile World Series pitching staff with the Florida Marlins, as well as how he approached Barry Bonds during their faceoff in the 2003 National League Division Series.
“If you don’t have to pitch to him — meaning it’s not bases loaded in a tie game in the ninth inning —put him on first base,” he said. “If you need to pitch to him, our deepest sympathies. And don’t strain a neck muscle or anything turning around.”
When the Texas Rangers thought that Rodriguez was on the decline, he bet on himself, signing a one-year deal with the Marlins in 2003. His leadership steadied their pitching staff, guiding them to an improbable World Series Championship.
Once again left to fend for himself at the end of the season, Rodriguez proved doubters wrong when he signed with the Detroit Tigers in 2004. Detroit’s team doctors felt that Pudge was only worthy of a two-year contract due to his injury history. In order to make the deal work, he gave up guaranteed money to sign a four-year, $40 million contract. This time, Pudge came out a winner, as the Tigers went to the World Series in 2006.
“I knew I was healthy,” he said. “I know I could play the five years, depending on if they picked up the option. And I played eight more years after that. I mean, the doctors can tell you whatever they want to say, but it’s how you feel that counts.”
Omnipresent throughout the book is the fact that Pudge was always a gamer. When he wasn’t playing baseball, he was breaking down video, going over scouting reports, or watching highlights on ESPN. If you are looking for tales of carousing, innuendo, or hi-jinks, look elsewhere, but if you want an inspirational story of how a kid with a golden throwing arm made it to the Hall of Fame all the way from Vega Baja, Puerto Rico, feel free to step in the batter’s box with “They Call Me Pudge.”