(This story originally appeared in the August 2020 edition of Yankees Magazine.)
I can’t say that I’ve ever been one of those baseball fans who obsesses over prospects. The fact is, there’s so much projection involved, so much luck, so much precarious uncertainty, that sometimes it’s just smarter to wait until they do something before you fall in love. It helps that the teams that a I root for / work for are in big markets (or, in the case of the Mets, are in a big market but insist on pretending that they’re not) and are usually trading prospects for major league–ready players, rather than the other way around.
With that said, most of my favorite stories to write during my time in baseball have been minor league features. The access is about 4,000 times better than what you get with big leaguers and the stories are just more interesting. Sure, there are grinders who you’ll find in a big-league clubhouse, but it’s not too often that you’re going to be the one to tell the ultimate story about a guy’s harrowing adventure to establish an identity, as I was able to do with Estevan Florial, or to shine a light on the tumultuous life of a low-minors infielder who — having overcome homelessness during high school — is learning to play catcher on the fly, as I could with Donny Sands. When I lucked into telling the story of the Yankees attempting to turn Dermis Garcia into a pitcher, it was the type of feature that almost by definition couldn’t come from the clubhouse in Yankee Stadium. They just don’t do that stuff up in the majors.
With Jasson Dominguez, some of both sides of that dichotomy came into play. First off, he’s as exciting a prospect as you’ll see, this massive tank of a person, just 16 years old when we were chatting. He’s a kid, but he’s also the guy who signed the biggest contract ever in the international signing period. The Yankees made a huge bet on the young Dominican, and when you see him for the first time, all you can do is nod and say, “Yeah, that makes sense.” As Donny Rowland, the Yankees’ international scouting director, said, “He’s the kind of player that makes the hair on your arm stand up when you watch him”
Back in January, I spent a few days with Jasson at the Yankees’ Dominican Baseball Academy. This was before the world came crashing down, as the youngster was embarking on his first full year in the system, starting down a road that could eventually lead him to the Bronx. I was there on his first day of on-field work for the year, when he struggled to make a nice-and-easy toss to his throwing partner. I watched him airmail like 12 balls, worried that my presence was making this kid nervous. Then it hit me: he’s never thrown a ball nice and easy in his entire life. Dominguez had been working since he was about 5 years old for the chance to play on a big-league field. He’s had scouts and advisers watching him his whole life, a constant need to put on a show. His life has been about showing how hard he could throw, not about showing that he could just toss a ball back and forth. It was illuminating, in not entirely positive ways.
Who knows what this lost year will do the Dominguez’s timeline. It was possible that he could have spent some time in one of the American short-season leagues this year, whether in Pulaski or Staten Island. Instead, he continues to wait. And while he does, the legend of the Martian will continue to grow in absentia.
I really enjoyed writing this one. It was fun to meet Jasson, fun to tell his story, and it’s always nice to go to the Dominican Republic (I even got to check out a game in the Dominican World Series while I was there, which was awesome). Who knows how long it will be before I can travel for another baseball story, so that part makes for a fun memory, as well.
https://www.mlb.com/yankees/news/jasson-dominguez-is-ready-for-liftoff?t=yankees-magazine
