If there’s ever a day where you’re allowed to be a little selfish and wrapped up in yourself, it has to be the day you’re drafted by a Major League Baseball team. A lifetime of work recognized by the recitation of your name; a draft party, just for you, in the middle of your street; your teammates and coaches misty-eyed, remembering your journey; your mom and dad, tears on their cheeks, almost physically bursting with pride.
It’s the kind of moment every kid dreams about, so it’s to be expected if an otherwise humble athlete’s head floats off his body for a few hours after getting drafted. I’m a sportswriter in Long Beach—I’ve been lucky enough to attend a few dozen draft parties for baseball, football, and basketball players, and I’ve seen it happen many times.
A few weekends ago, I was invited to Anthony Eyanson’s draft party, along with my son Vinny, a 12 year-old ballplayer who’s been watching Anthony’s video highlights on the 562 for as long as he’s been pitching. It’s always fun for me when my family is invited to share in an athlete’s big moment, but it didn’t surprise me that Anthony thought of Vinny.
When he left for college, he made Vinny a gift bag of a lot of his high school and youth training equipment. It was a thoughtful gesture that provided my son with J-bands, paddle gloves, and other fun tools that have now become a regular part of his practice or pre-game rituals.
My advice to my son as we pulled up to the draft party was to stay out of the way and appreciate the behind-the-curtain look at what a draft day is like for an elite athlete. The truth is that while draft parties can be celebratory, they’re also usually stressful. Imagine if the biggest business negotiation of your life was witnessed by every person you loved—it can go right, and it can go wrong, too. So I told Vinny to be seen and not heard on Sunday at the Eyansons’.
Flash forward a few hours later. Anthony had been drafted by the Boston Red Sox with the 87th pick, a little later than he’d been projected to go. There had been the usual tension associated with waiting, followed by the usual jubilation and release. Anthony hugged his dad, hugged his mom, and delivered a speech thanking everyone for coming and sharing in the special moment. I did my interviews, congratulating his dad Jeff, patting his high school coach Spud O’Neil on the back about another Lakewood alum being selected.
Then as we were preparing to leave, Jeff guided Vinny and me over to Anthony to take a picture. Anthony greeted Vinny by telling him he’d seen all of his highlights on my Instagram page, and that he was a good player. Vinny thanked Anthony quietly and then took a picture with him. Then Anthony put a hand on Vinny’s shoulder and asked him if this was going to be him one day.
Vinny nodded, and then Anthony leaned in. He told him that he should really soak it in and imagine himself there one day, and let that be part of the fuel that carries him through his career. I stepped away to let the two of them have their moment as Anthony imparted some wisdom.
I was struck looking at the two of them. Anthony was about Vinny’s age the first time his dad introduced me to him–Anthony at that time was excited about the prospect of being Lakewood High’s quarterback one day. Now, Anthony looks like a professional athlete, and my son—well, he’s hoping for the same growth spurt that Anthony was probably hoping for when he was 12.
I’ve been impressed by Anthony’s athletic accomplishments since his dad first started telling me about his star football/baseball player when Anthony was younger than Vinny. But on his Draft Day, I found myself more impressed by the kind of person Anthony is—one who would pause a celebration of the culmination of his life’s dream to this point in order to have a quiet moment with a kid trying to follow in his footsteps.
On the way back to the car, I didn’t ask Vinny about what Anthony had said to him—I’m not a pitcher so I don’t need to know. But I came away hoping that my son learned a lot at Anthony’s draft party, not about baseball, but about life and about how to treat people. Our local baseball community has always been filled with great ballplayers, but also with great human beings who love to give back, too. On the day that Anthony Eyanson began his professional journey, he proved to be worthy of both legacies.