Roughing It on the Diamond : Kernen Sequesters CSUN Baseball Team for 5 1/2 days at Matador Field to Build Unity

Beyond the barbecue dinners, pranks, storytelling and cortex-rattling pillow fights, what occurred on and around the Cal State Northridge baseball field earlier this month bore little resemblance to summer camp.

There was, from Jan. 12-17, around-the-clock work detail, fielding fundamentals, batting practice, conditioning exercises and psychological orientation--with a twist of adventure.

And, while there were shenanigans, what transpired was the antithesis of a baseball fantasy camp.

The participants, members of the Northridge baseball team, named the ordeal after their coach and drill sergeant, Bill Kernen, who, lest any player was under the wrong impression, tersely announced on opening night: “This is not a slumber party.”

Moreover, Camp Kernen was the continuing education of a college baseball team being pushed to the brink, an extension of the commitment each Northridge player makes before signing a letter of intent but which few fully understand until much later.

Northridge views itself as heir-apparent to the NCAA crown because of a willingness to work harder than the competition. Whether there is a coronation in the Matadors’ immediate future is moot: The players believe it, and meeting such challenges as the weeklong camp reinforces that conviction.

Baseball boot camp made its debut at Northridge last season, before the Matadors’ first season as a Division I team. The end result was a 44-18-1 record and a No. 10 national ranking that was enough to inspire a return engagement.

This season, 25 players made Matador Field their home for 5 1/2 days. Twenty sacked out on sleeping bags, mattresses and, in some cases, furniture cushions spread on the concrete floor of the 50-by-20-foot clubhouse. Two more players slept in the field’s concession stand and three others stretched out in the camper shells of trucks that were parked underneath the stadium’s bleachers at night.

Meanwhile, Kernen and assistants Stan Sanchez and P. C. Shaw lodged in comparative luxury on the floor of the school’s Nautilus weight room, a facility that offers wall-to-wall carpeting and, more significantly, forced-air heating.

The players, whose confines featured three portable heaters of varying efficiency, snidely referred to their coaches’ accommodations as “The Hilton.”

Ernie Diaz, a freshman second baseman, was the only Northridge player who did not take part in the camp. He was excused so that he could recuperate after a tonsillectomy.

But Diaz was there in spirit. He phoned daily to leave barely audible--but oft-mimicked--messages on the clubhouse answering machine. “Hi. This is Ernie. I just wanted to let you know I’m OK. (pause) I can eat now. . . .”

Space was at a premium in the clubhouse and players were asked to bring only essentials. A 13-page, type-written outline of the week’s plans included a list of 43 necessities--soap, toothbrush, fork, knife, spoon, can opener, eight hangers, black shoe polish and, of course, dip, chew, seeds, etc.--and a diagram showing precisely how the items were to be placed inside one’s locker.

Those who prepared too hastily suffered the consequences. David Prosenko, a senior outfielder, paid for his carelessness at dinner the first night.

“I can’t believe I brought all spoons,” he muttered while stabbing hopelessly at a piece of barbecue chicken.

Also included in the outline was a chart listing the proper location for daily inspection. Players were required to report to an assigned position in a formation at 8:20 each morning, appearing unshaven (razors were prohibited) in freshly shined black cleats, gray pants, a team sweat shirt over a team T-shirt and a black cap with the red lettering “Finish It Off” above the bill.

“Finish It Off” is, at once, the team’s stated mission and an unofficial slogan for the season, which will begin Friday with a 2 p.m. home game against Christ College of Irvine.

The phrase derives from the frustration of last season when Northridge came within three outs of winning the West II Regional and advancing to the eight-team College World Series.

Kernen, who majored in psychology at Redlands, routinely uses slogans and props to drive home a point. The Finish It Off caps are worn each day during practice and the words are stenciled in paint on the doormat outside the clubhouse.

Reminders of the team’s lofty aspirations are everywhere. Over one clubhouse exit, in white letters on red, it says “Rose Garden,” a reference to the White House invitation annually extended to the national champion. Over the other is the word “Omaha,” site of the College World Series.

In addition, Northridge players are required to carry 3 x 5 index cards that list their six primary team and individual goals for the season. Most often, the cards can be found tucked inside a player’s cap.

The goals are personal but contain common threads: They are written in present tense and at the top of each list is the proclamation, “We are the 1992 NCAA Division I baseball champions.”

Preseason ratings indicate that Northridge’s chances of meeting its preeminent goal are not very good. Neither of the two leading magazines of the college sport, Collegiate Baseball and Baseball America, lists the Matadors in its Top 10.

Northridge is ranked 11th by Collegiate Baseball and the Matadors are not listed in Baseball America’s Top 25, which left Kernen to wonder who is “holding the brain at that place?”

Even more surprising to Kernen is that only three Northridge players--pitcher Kenny Kendrena, second baseman Scott Richardson and outfielder Greg Shockey--are mentioned on Baseball America’s list of top players.

The perceived snub prompted Kernen, in a snarling first-night oratory, to conclude that he must be the “stupidest S.O.B. who ever lived.”

“I was the one who recruited you guys. I thought you were better than that!” he continued, gathering momentum. “Twenty-six catchers. No Mike Sims. Nooope. Not on here. But there are three guys from Ivy League schools. . . . So basically, Sims, what they’re saying here is that you would be, at best, the fourth-best catcher in the Ivy League this season.”

And so it went. Northridge, in Kernen’s view anyway, was perhaps the least-appreciated college baseball team in the land.

Not in the Top 25? “Maybe they put names on a board and tossed darts at it,” Kernen hissed.

“What I do know is that this is a better team than last year’s team. And I want you to know it too. What everybody else thinks doesn’t mean (anything), until the end of the year.”

In the meantime, though, there was a significant amount of baseball to be perfected.

This season’s camp was considered vital because of newly imposed NCAA rules that prohibit fall games and limit supervised practice time to 20 hours per week.

Because the camp took place while school was on semester break, practice restrictions were lifted. “We are able to cover everything in our system of things in one week,” Kernen said. “Our team defense items, all of our hitting plans, everything.”

But even before camp opened, players had been expected to train like decathletes, alternating between the weight room and the track.

Running requirements in the fall ranged from three miles in less than 21 minutes to six miles in 48.

“You couldn’t get more unrelated to baseball,” Kernen said. “For someone like (Denny) Vigo (the Matadors’ 6-foot-3, 220-pound, power-hitting third baseman) to run six miles in 48 minutes is something he’ll never do again as long as he lives.

“But the purpose was to pull them together and see who really signed up and who didn’t, who can go through something and who can’t.”

The team was required to meet the time requirements as a group. During one timed three-mile run, Kernen was asked why pitcher Steven Morales had positioned himself behind Vigo, pushing him with both hands as they ran.

“I said it might be a good idea for him to make sure Vigo made it because there was going to be a time this season when (Morales) was going to need a two-run home run in the ninth inning to win a game,” the coach said.

Slowly, relationships started to form, a process that was expected to climax during camp. “We figure if they don’t kill each other, they should become a tight unit,” Kernen said.

Indeed, most players reported the camp to be educational both on and off the field.

“We pretty much know what we can do, baseball-wise,” said Kendrena, a senior right-hander who was 13-2 last season. “But the whole thing about baseball is that it’s a team sport. Being a closely knit, family-type team is what you strive for.”

Richardson used his friendship with shortstop Mike Solar, his double play partner for the past two seasons, as an example.

“When I first came here I was told, ‘When Solar goes somewhere, you should be right on his heels.’ Well, after (playing) with him for two years I know exactly what he is thinking, sometimes even before he does,” Richardson said.

After inspection, breakfast and field chores, the players got around to the business of baseball about 9:45 each morning. Practice started with 15 minutes of stretching exercises.

Next came defensive drills, with outfielders, infielders, catchers and pitchers often splitting into groups.

Some drills were more excruciating than others. The team’s three catchers suffered through one exercise in which a pitching machine was set to deliver fastballs in the dirt. Their job was to smother each ball as it was fired in rapid succession.

“Yeah, that’s just a whole lot of fun,” said Kyle Washington, a starting outfielder and backup catcher as he adjusted his protective equipment after one such session. “That’s why they call this the armor of stupidity.”

After defensive drills, the team got 45 minutes for lunch before returning to the field and splitting into hitting groups.

The pitchers, meanwhile, either threw in the bullpen, hit fungoes, shagged balls, fed the pitching machines or worked on bunt defenses and pickoffs.

Whenever possible, drills were made to be competitive. During batting practice, “teams” often competed against each other.

“This isn’t a thing for ordinary people,” said first-baseman Chris Olsen, a transfer from Cerritos College. “I know a lot of guys, players, who love to play but wouldn’t last more than a couple of days in this program.”

Said pitcher Kevin Kloek, a transfer from Citrus: “It’s not the time. I’ve been on teams that put in the hours, but the difference is intensity. Out here, you go hard all the time.”

As dusk filtered into dark, players gathered up their equipment and set about clearing the field and dugouts. Their work, however, was not yet finished. Sometimes there was running, sometimes weight training. Always, there was more to do. The pace really didn’t slow until lights were due out at 11.

The players had about an hour and a half to shower at the school gym, make a quick phone call (quarters for the pay phone also were among the 43 essentials) and dash back to the clubhouse in time for dinner.

Then it was time for meetings and a review of the day.

On two evenings, players digested dinner while watching videotape highlights of the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles.

The events were varied, Kernen explained by way of introduction, but many of the themes were similar.

“Watch how they react when they win,” Kernen instructed, “and listen to how many of them refer to this being the day or moment they’ve been working for.”

Each clip, from a jump-off for the gold medal in the pole vault to the battle for the men’s team championship in gymnastics between the U.S. and China, was compared to past events on the baseball field--or those that hopefully will come to pass.

The film sessions proved the most cerebral portion of the camp as players focused on keeping up with their quick-witted coach, who skillfully manipulates seemingly unrelated subjects into motivational lessons.

Kernen even offered a reasonable explanation for orderly lockers.

He said that while flying to New York on vacation, he was changing stations on the plane’s radio system when he picked up a frequency that was transmitting a beeping sound that seemed to be in code.

Curious, he asked a flight attendant about it and was told that he was picking up a signal to the cockpit. An average airplane, he was told, veers slightly off course on a routine flight. The beeps are mild warnings to the pilot to pull the plane back on line.

“That’s why we can’t have a sweat shirt on your first hanger,” Kernen told the players. “That’s off course, and I can’t let that be because there is going to be a point when we have to land and I ain’t going to be flying the plane.”

Whatever the evening’s topic, the sessions ended the same way: with a drawing for nine hourlong shifts of guard duty during the night.

From 11 p.m. until 8 a.m., players took turns patrolling the baseball grounds, making sure that all were safe and that the team’s presence there remained undetected.

Each night, the selection of a blank piece of paper drew high-fives, whistles and cheers, while a numbered segment brought whining, looks of despair and, invariably, a large dose of good-natured teasing.

Those who were afforded a continuous night’s sleep seemed to take joy in another’s misfortune. And just in case anyone had ideas about cheating, the coaches devised a preventive scheme.

The first player on guard duty is given a card. On the front is a word and on the back are instructions for finding the next card. At the end of the hour, the player signs the “word” side and gives it to the next player on duty, who follows the directions to a second card. He then posts the first card--word side up--on a bulletin board and the chain begins.

When the scheme works as planned, the team awakens to a nine-word slogan posted on the bulletin board, a different player’s signature on each card.

When it doesn’t . . .

Relief pitcher Kurt Lowry followed a midnight directive to a 5 a.m. card and paid for his misunderstanding as the target of many a barb. Even Kernen joined in when, because of an athletic staff meeting, he was two hours late getting to the field one morning.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said on his arrival. “Lowry gave me directions and I got lost.”

By the end of the week, though, Kernen himself had played pin cushion to a few needles.

Sanchez, the team’s top assistant, is a boyhood buddy of Kernen and guardian of what he good-naturedly claims is some “potentially damaging” information about the head coach.

Although Sanchez for the most part maintained silence, he did mention that Kernen’s nickname in high school was “Psycho,” resulting in chuckles and knowing nods among the players.

The week’s most poignant moments took place on the final night when Kernen opened the floor to the players, asking each to talk about whatever might be on his mind.

Most of the words centered on the team’s quest for a national championship and none were more emotionally charged than those of Solar, who broke down several times while trying to express the bitterness of last season’s final loss.

“The feeling Solar has is the feeling we’ve all had,” Sims interjected at one point. “We’re going to make that feeling disappear.”

Richardson, one of the final speakers, spoke matter-of-factly on a less emotional but more controversial subject. He admitted that he had tried to encourage several of the newcomers to quit during fall conditioning.

“In the beginning, I didn’t want you here,” Richardson told his teammates. “I wanted our old team back to finish what we started when I first came here. . . .

“But now I see how far you’ve come, starting with the running, and I see how much you’ve learned and adapted to the way we do things around here. You’re with us now, and we’re all after the same thing.”

Kernen did not find the revelation surprising.

“This is a pretty tight-knit group,” he said. “Some of these guys have been together for a long time. It’s not a social club where you just show up and become one of the guys. You have to earn that respect.”

Which is, in a nutshell, much of what the camp was all about. And no one was heard complaining.

“They probably wouldn’t know what to do,” Kernen said, “if it was any other way.”

CS Northridge Roster

Player Pos Hgt Wgt B/T Yr Dave Prosenko OF 5-9 155 R/R Sr Scott Richardson 2B 6-1 180 R/R Jr Erik Lazerus SS 5-8 145 R/R Fr Ernie Diaz 2B 5-9 160 R/R Fr Tony Dudum Util 6-1 185 S/R Fr Tyler Nelson C/3B 6-2 190 R/R Fr Kurt Lowry P 6-0 175 L/L Jr Kyle Washington OF 5-11 170 R/R Jr Tony Ljubetic P 5-11 170 S/R So Mike Sims C 6-0 190 R/R Jr Mike Solar SS 6-3 190 R/R Sr Denny Vigo 3B 6-3 220 R/R Sr Jonathan Campbell OF 5-11 180 R/R Fr Jason Shanahan 1B/P 6-1 200 S/R Fr Chris Olson 1B 5-10 190 R/R Jr Andy Hodgins OF 6-1 195 R/R Jr Jason Van Heerde P 6-5 180 R/R Fr Kenny Kendrena P 5-11 175 R/R Sr Greg Shockey OF 6-2 200 L/L Sr Dave Eggert P 6-1 190 R/L Sr Greg Shepard OF 6-0 195 L/R Jr Steven Morales P 6-3 190 R/R Jr Kevin Kloek P 6-3 180 R/R Jr Scott Mowl OF 6-4 215 S/R Sr John Bushart P 6-5 195 L/L Jr

Coach: Bill Kernen

Assistant: Stan Sanchez