When signals get crossed
11:05 AM EDT on Wednesday, August 27, 2003
BY STEVEN KRASNER
Journal Sports Writer
Chan Ho Park was getting lit up in a spring-training game in 1995.
The right-hander from Kong Ju City, South Korea, had just been torched
for three consecutive home runs while pitching for the Los Angeles
Dodgers.
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AP photo
THERE'S NO HIDING IT: Texas Rangers pitcher Chan Ho Park, a native of South Korea, has a bad habit of revealing his emotions when things aren't going well for him on the mound.
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And his body language was telling the opposition he was cooked. Head
down. Shoulders slumped. Kicking at the dirt on the mound.
Dave Wallace, the Dodgers' pitching coach at the time, was more
concerned about the body language than the home runs. So after the game,
he sat Park down on the bench for a chat.
"He had lost complete control of his emotions," said Wallace, now the
Red Sox' interim pitching coach. "He was down. You could tell he was
beat. So we sat in the dugout for maybe 10-15 minutes talking about your
emotions, and how important it is to keep your emotions intact whether
you're winning or losing on the mound. Great talk. Understood, we walk
away, the day's over.
"The next morning I come to ballpark around 7:30 and he's out on our
back bullpen area, and he's going through a shadow pitching workout.
"I said, 'Chan Ho, what are you doing?'
"He said, 'I'm working on my motion.' "
That's when Wallace realized that communication had broken down. Wallace
was talking about "emotion." Park was hearing "motion."
"And that was his second year with the Dodgers. Unbelievable," said
Wallace. "I hadn't had the translator with us because he knew enough
English, or so you thought at the time, that if you took your time and
slowly explained things he'd get it. But after that you just shake your
head and say, lesson learned here. Let's not assume he understands
anything at all."
While organizations are concerned with the foreign-born players' grasp
of the English language and culture off the field, the bottom line is
that they're even more concerned with communication on the field.
Miscommunication off the field can lead to being served liver and onions
instead of a filet mignon. Miscommunication on the field can lead to a
loss.
Mostly, that comes into play with pitchers. Communication between the
pitcher and the catcher is vital, going beyond just how many fingers the
catcher is putting down.
Such communication can be difficult enough with a Spanish-speaking
player. That barrier, though, usually can be smoothed out by having at
least one infielder who can act as a translator on the mound for those
conversations.
It is much more difficult, however, with pitchers from the Far East.
While many catchers have at least a working knowledge of Spanish, either
because they played winter ball in a Latin country or because they were
able to pick it up over their years of professional baseball,
communicating with Korean and Japanese pitchers can be more problematic
during the course of a game.
"We're lucky that we have a couple of Latin infielders -- Alfonso
Soriano and Enrique Wilson," said Yankee backup catcher John Flaherty.
"I've tried to learn a few phrases in Spanish that would help them. But
you can see when a guy is looking right through you. You're trying to do
your best Spanish interpretation and you know he's not getting it."
"Sometimes you get the official head nod, like, 'Yeah, I got you,' "
added Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek. "And they don't understand a word
you just said. You can tell by looking in his eyes."
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HE KNEW HIS STUFF: Hideo Nomo was so well-schooled in the game when he arrived in the U.S. that language was not a huge factor.
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The Far East influx basically began with Hideo Nomo, who joined the
Dodgers in 1995. Wallace was with the organization then. He says that
communication with Nomo wasn't as bad as it could have been.
"Number one, Nomo didn't miss a trick. Baseball-wise, he knew the game,"
said Wallace. "He didn't have to say a lot. You could tell by his body
language and the look in his eye whether he was on board with stuff.
"Admittedly, at times there were situations where you wondered if you
were getting across what you wanted to through communication. There's
always something lost when you go through different languages and you
have someone translating for you because part of our communication is
body language, expressions on your face, how you mean things," said
Wallace.
By the time Nomo got to Boston in 2001, the Red Sox already had featured
a Far East flavor, all of it with pitchers. Jin Ho Cho was the first
Korean, called up in 1998. Tomo Ohka was the first Japanese native to
arrive, in 1999. Korean Sun-Woo Kim joined Boston in 2001. They are all
gone from the Sox, but Boston acquired Korean pitcher Byung-Hyun Kim (no
relation to Sun-Woo) in a trade earlier this season.
The Red Sox are fortunate to have Chang-Ho Lee on their staff. Lee is an
assistant trainer, but also is fluent in Korean and Japanese, putting
him in the interpreter's role off the field.
On the field, though, it's the catcher's job to make sure the battery is
in sync. Nomo, by the time he got to the Sox, and Byung-Hyun Kim are
able to communicate in English with their catchers, but Ohka wasn't so
skilled in the English language.
"It's not just about putting down 1, 2 or 3," said Varitek of the
pitcher-catcher communication. "Sometimes you might want to give a
signal to expand the zone, or things like that, and the language barrier
does hinder that communication at times.
"Sometimes that means being crossed up on a pitch quite a bit," said
Varitek. "I remember one game in Seattle. Ohka was on the mound. And it
was pretty obvious when they had a runner at second that they had our
signs. We changed them, but he didn't really understand we were changing
them, so he kept bouncing balls past me. So we had to go back to the
basic signs again."
But there are times when the universal language of baseball overcomes
any communication problem.
On July 9 in Toronto, Byung-Hyun Kim was trying to close out a Red Sox
victory in Toronto. Carlos Delgado, the league's most productive hitter,
was getting ready to bat in a crucial spot, and manager Grady Little
went out to the mound.
Little was considering having Kim intentionally walk Delgado. But the
look in Kim's eyes, the tone of his voice and his use of English
convinced Little to let Kim pitch to Delgado.
And Kim won an aggressive nine-pitch battle with Delgado, striking him
out in an 8-7 Boston win.