Pandemic alters interactions between veterans and youngsters

Stroll through a pre-pandemic spring training clubhouse, or eye up what's happening on the back fields of a camp complex, and you'll see a lot of teaching and mentoring going on. Even if it's not readily apparent, it was happening.

A young hurler could ask a veteran about pitch grips. An inexperienced infielder can work with coaches and teammates to refine his footwork or positioning. An outfielder of the future spends time between shagging fly balls by picking the brain of a guy with a deep major league resume on tactics such as lining up for a throw.

The scene was repeated countless times in countless places - over the breakfast table, in the weight room, on the path to wherever that day's activities were being held. Even away from the ballpark, the learning happened regularly - watching NCAA men's basketball tournament games, on fishing trips, at dinners in local restaurants or on the bus to the next exhibition game.

Among the changes necessitated by the outbreak of COVID-19, Nationals manager Davey Martinez has spent this spring trying to have as regular a camp as humanly possible. Routine integrates familiarity, and helps players find a comfort zone. But as we all know, finding a comfort zone in the middle of a worldwide pandemic is challenging at best.

That makes the usual interactions between experienced and inexperienced players more difficult. Workout schedules are staggered to promote social distancing. Lockers are no longer tightly bunched together to invite casual conversation. Even something as simple as a daily weightlifting regimen is now carefully scripted to avoid too many sweaty bodies interacting.

It's a whole new world, and Martinez has had to adjust on the fly to make sure he can continue the time-honored tradition of seeing veterans share their knowledge with younger players.

"We have three different clubhouses. Because of protocol, we have to keep them separated," Martinez said recently in a Zoom session with reporters. "Throughout the course of the day - especially the pitchers - we broke them up into three groups and we try to put some of the young guys with the veteran guys, but with that being said, we definitely gotta get our mainstays ready."

In the grand scheme of things, how a veteran like Max Scherzer or Stephen Strasburg is progressing is far more important than what they might impart to a twenty-something with a handful of innings above Single-A ball. But those conversations have their place, too. They might not be the most important thing happening on a given day, but they are important nonetheless.

And seeing younger players challenged to do something that used to be second nature is concerning to Martinez.

"It's hard because they can't sit around and have that (interaction). Everything's kind of moving along and we don't congregate, per se," Martinez said. "It's tough, but during the course of the game, when these guys are around, you see them in the dugout, especially our veteran guys talking to the younger players, which is really nice. I think they miss that and I always encourage the young players, whenever they get a chance, to just go talk to a veteran, talk to a coach, talk to myself.

"I've always said there's no dumb questions. I'm all ears when it comes to these guys coming up to me and asking me something. If I don't have the answer, I'll find the answer for them. And I think most of our veteran guys are the same way. They want to help these guys because, who knows, whether it's now, two months, three months, these guys might help us this year. So they're always having these conversations with them."

But the landscape has changed. Spring training dugouts are no longer packed to the gills, players wearing numbers usually reserved for offensive linemen in football overflowing onto folding chairs. Guys who aren't in the game may not even be in the ballpark. If you don't have work to do, you might have already headed home, a nod to thinning out the maze of bodies that used to populate a camp.

And while those discussions can still happen - with participants masked, perhaps even six feet apart - to have them takes a lot more effort on the part of young player. And when you're a guy low on the minor league ladder, the ability to chat up a guy with an extensive major league resume can be a gold mine of information.

When Martinez came up with the Cubs in the mid-1980s, he made use of a veteran roster to navigate his way through big league life. He gravitated toward guys like Andre Dawson, Jody Davis, Rick Sutcliffe and Bob Dernier for counsel.

In Nats camp, young infielder Luis García, who was rushed to the majors last season when second baseman Starlin Castro suffered a season-ending broken wrist, spends as much time as he can around Castro and shortstop Trea Turner. They're the guys he will likely back up in camp and, if he's lucky, once the Nats break and head north. But even if García doesn't make the 26-man roster out of camp, he sees the value in gleaning whatever he can from guys with more experience, those who have flourished where he wants to go.

"We have a great relationship," García said through interpreter Octavio Martinez on a Zoom call this week. "It's like we're brothers, like we've known each other since we were little kids. They teach me a lot. They're always on top of me, teaching me about the game, different situations. They're always embracing me. So I'm always learning from them."

The interaction only works if a young player has the confidence to seek out a veteran. Most veterans wear mentoring their inexperienced teammates like a badge of honor, proudly performing the same tasks as others previously did for them. Other veterans are more prickly; when a youngster is gunning for your job, there can be some awkward moments.

But confidence has never been an issue for García. He was smart enough to emulate things Juan Soto had done in his first couple of seasons when he got to big league camp. Now that he's no longer the new kid on the block, it's easier for García to seek out his teammates for help.

"It's one of those things that I feel like I've had as a little boy: confidence," he said. "Playing at this level, it's grown so much more. And I think it has a lot to do with watching players such as Soto, Turner, Max Scherzer, (Victor) Robles, Castro play."

The lessons are sometimes very subtle, but sometimes a young player can achieve an a-ha moment quite by surprise.

"Just the way they go about the game, and how, whether they make a mistake or they do something real great for the team, they seem to stay at the same kind of level in their emotions and the way they go about their game," García said. "And I think I've learned a lot from that and that's helped me create confidence in myself."