A personal victory

Last week, as the wind whipped down the Park Blocks, I strolled up to a white Volvo and slid into the passenger seat. Behind the wheel was Paul Raglione, a 26-year-old junior at Portland State who walked away from the life of a major league pitching prospect with the Kansas City Royals five years ago. As we cruised away from the PSU campus into the Southwest hills, Raglione opened up about his past, why he left baseball and his desire to get a second chance at the pros.

After spending time as a pitcher and shortstop at Grant High School in Portland, Raglione was selected in the 18th round of the 2005 MLB amateur draft. He struggled during that first summer, posting a 5.94 era over 47 innings with the Royals’ rookie league club in Arizona.

“I was just used to throwing it as hard as I can, punching out 15 and throwing no-hitters and shutouts,” Raglione said. “I thought life was easy if you just throw 93 every time, but that was not the case.”

Though the transition to the minors was a difficult one, Raglione’s expression changed noticeably as he discussed the breakthrough he experienced in his second season. “I made an adjustment and started throwing a sinker and a change-up…just working back and forth with those,” he said. “Me and my roommate [Brent Fisher] led the league in strikeouts, and I just threw that change-up all the time because they could not hit it.”

But just as things started to come together for Raglione, he blew out his arm in the final game of the 2006 season and sat out for a year after having surgery. Raglione was further hindered by a shift in the organization’s philosophy on pitching development. “They made a rule that you couldn’t throw sinkers anymore, thinking it was too hard to locate,” he said. “That was frustrating….when they told me I couldn’t throw the sinker I didn’t have the feel for my change-up, either.”

Discontentment continued to build in Raglione during the 2008 season as he tried to learn new mechanics. “I was out there with a straight fastball and a slider,” he said. “I had never pitched like that before, and it was the first year back from a Tommy John surgery. I felt like I wanted to do something and be someone, and they weren’t letting me be that someone.”

Stopping the car for a moment, Raglione turned to me and admitted that it wasn’t just the issues on the field that led him to quit the sport. “I started smoking weed and fell in love with that,” Raglione said as he steered the car back toward downtown. “[The Royals] never knew—I never failed a test or anything like that….I was just always smoking. I knew it was only a matter of time before I failed a test. I wasn’t stopping…and even when I knew I wanted to, I couldn’t. So I was a pretty miserable person.

“I never wanted to get sent home and have that on my name,” he continued. “But I knew that [getting caught] was inevitable and that played into me leaving, which is the worst, most painful part about it for me.”

Raglione did eventually kick the habit, and has been playing baseball again regularly and dreaming of a return to the professional baseball. He threw for the Boston Red Sox during the offseason in a private workout, doing well enough to earn an invitation for another tryout. Unable to pay his way to Florida this spring, however, he knows his best chance to achieve his goal is with the organization that drafted him eight years ago.

“I’m just afraid of the answer they might give me,” Raglione said. “That’s kind of the only chance I have…or I’ll just have to live with the regret my entire life.”

In addition to cleaning up his life, Raglione has learned more about himself during his sabbatical from the game. “It did make me find out who I was without baseball,” he said. “Graphic design, branding, the creative side of marketing, music—that’s what I know I’m good at. I do drawing and painting; my portfolio is huge. It is the only thing I’ve ever gotten respect for besides baseball.”

While Raglione hopes to find a way to merge his passions, he still longs to get back to the sport that has been a huge part of his identity since he was 12 years old. But he also knows that he has gained the kind of valuable perspective that could only have come from stepping away. “Ultimately, nothing good comes easy,” he said. “So I just started playing again, and wherever the chips will fall, they’ll fall. But at least it’s a personal victory not to defeat myself.”