Long way home

Bay is happy to finally be in this position

April 06, 2009|Adam Kilgore, Globe Staff

The smelter in Trail, British Columbia, rises over the town's streams and green rolling hills and hovers above its 7,500 citizens, 1,500 of whom it employs. It refines as much lead and zinc as any factory on the planet. "It's the only reason that the town exists," Jason Bay said.

The smelter accepted Bay's application for a summer job following his senior year of college. On June 7, 2000, the first day of Major League Baseball's draft, that seemed like a good and necessary thing. The draft's opening 20 rounds elapsed. Six-hundred and ten players were chosen. Bay was not. He thought, "Maybe I'm just not good enough." To make his living, Bay assumed, he would wear overalls and shovel slag into a kiln.

How many ballplayers can claim this as their career launching point, let alone one who ascends to the uniquely focal position Bay now occupies? Weather permitting, Bay will trot to Fenway Park's left field shortly after 2 p.m. today, the first Opening Day since 2001 a Red Sox player other than Manny Ramírez will inhabit left. The notion of playing in a Hall of Fame slugger's wake, in the three months Bay spent here last season and now, has preoccupied everyone save Bay himself, who presses forward with the same stoicism that steeled him on his improbable path from Trail to the major leagues.

The trade at last year's deadline that brought Bay from Pittsburgh to Boston never daunted Bay, because he had built a career on his ability to discard failure and adapt to testing conditions. The Montreal Expos chose him in the 22d round. Teams traded him three times before he became established in the major leagues. The draft was not the last time he considered a career other than baseball.

"There were times along the way," said his mother, Kelly Bay, "where he was thinking, 'I'm going to walk away gracefully before they kick me out.' "

How many players start their careers at North Idaho College? After high school, Bay wanted to keep playing baseball. Scouts didn't attend the American Legion and Babe Ruth games Bay played in, and NIC was the first junior college team that would take him.

Bay played at Gonzaga for two seasons after his time at North Idaho, and he excelled in the West Coast Conference, a league that produces a few elite prospects each year. He figured scouts had noticed. Looking back, Bay realizes he was naïve; he didn't bother talking with scouts or filling out many evaluation cards.

On the second day of the draft, Bay went fishing by himself. "He disappeared for a while," said his sister, Lauren. After the draft's first day, he wondered if any teams even knew who he was.

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