Mariners batboy's duties go beyond organizing bats

Editor's note: Nina Marie C. Roque, a junior-to-be at Francisco Bravo Medical Magnet High School in Los Angeles, wrote this article as a participant in Seattle University's Journalism Summer Workshop last month. She was advised by Times staff reporters José Miguel Romero and Nancy Bartley.

Being a Mariners batboy isn't just handing Ichiro his favorite bat. Ask Andre McVey.

He once installed Microsoft Office software for Mariners players Jon Huber and Charlton Jimerson. Just another day of fulfilling players' requests.

For McVey, the day begins four hours before game time at Safeco Field.

The 19-year-old from Seattle fills up the rolling coolers with water and Gatorade, prepares the coffee machine, and organizes the gum and sunflower seeds for the players. Then he goes into the clubhouse to arrange the equipment for batting practice and collects used baseballs afterward. Sometimes, McVey gets to play catch with a player who asks to be warmed up.

The job can result in lifelong friendships with childhood heroes but compromises energy and sleeping habits. For example, when players arrive at Safeco from an away game, batboys must be there to unload equipment. This can take as long as six hours.

"I enjoy my work, but I wouldn't say I'd do it for free," McVey said.

McVey makes minimum wage, but the real money is in tips from players.

Baseball has been a part of McVey's life since he was 5 years old. He played in Little League and for the Ingraham High School football and baseball teams. It wasn't until his senior year that his involvement with the Mariners became more than just a hobby.

McVey started with the club last year as part of their Fielder program. The Fielder crew is an organization of 120 high-school and college students who work at home games. Tasks include helping with promotional giveaways and seating arrangements for the fans, baby-sitting the players' children, and manning the speed-pitch booth.

One month into McVey's time with the Fielder crew, Garrett Cook, the Mariners' event services and tours manager who was also McVey's high-school football coach, recommended that he apply to be a batboy. Then Ted Walsh, the clubhouse manager, hired McVey over three other candidates.

"I hate to say it, but it's more like who you know in the business," McVey said.

Others agreed that the path to becoming a batboy is largely based on connections. Kyle Proctor, 24, has been a batboy since 2005. Demetrius Grant, a former batboy who served from 2002 to 2006, is now the Mariners' coordinator of community services. Both said their college roommates — former Mariners batboys themselves — informed them of the job opening.

Likewise, aspiring ball girls have better chances of getting the job with connections. A female Fielder program participant who wishes to be a ball girl is automatically considered for a tryout, in which she has to scoop grounders. She must be at least 16 years old, with an athletic background. Judges hire based on accumulated scores from an interview and the tryout, and the top scorers are offered the jobs.

"You just have to do the best that you can," said Erin Tsutsumoto, a senior at Newport High School and one of 11 ball girls this year.

A ball girl has fewer responsibilities than those of a batboy. The two ball girls arrive an hour before game time and set up their areas on the field. During the game, they field foul balls and offer them to kids in the audience.

"A part of our job is to entertain the fans," Tsutsumoto said. "They make my job so great."

Ball girls, unlike batboys, are not permitted to speak with players.

For McVey, it's the relationships with players he develops that he likes most about being a batboy.

"It's nice that they show they care," he said.