His 92 Unforgettable Days in 1993 : Velasquez: Former Banning High first baseman, who was cleared of murder charges, reflects on his 15 days in jail and 77 days under house arrest.

Armando Velasquez is trying his best to take advantage of his newly found freedom.

On most days, it’s off to the beach in the morning. Then an hour or two of batting practice at a local park in the afternoon.

At night, Velasquez ventures to clubs.

“I want to go out as much as I can,” he said. “I don’t like staying home.”

And who could blame him?

Velasquez, 18, spent 77 days under house arrest on charges of murder. The charges were dropped July 22.

Authorities are still searching for a suspect in the Dec. 4 murder of Martin Cuevas, 29.

“I’m mad because I’ve been through so much,” said Velasquez, the starting first baseman at Banning High the past two seasons. “I was never worried about going to trial because I always knew I wasn’t guilty. I knew all along it would eventually be over. I just didn’t know how long it would drag on. The whole thing screwed up my head and I’m never going to be able to forget it.”

Velasquez wore an electronic bracelet on his left ankle to allow authorities to monitor his whereabouts. He was permitted to leave home to attend school and go to baseball practice and games. Velasquez was also given permission to go to the prom and participate in graduation ceremonies.

“Even if I didn’t have to be back home until a certain time, I would always leave early because I didn’t want to take a chance of blowing it and being put back in jail,” he said.

There were other anxious moments for Velasquez, who will begin classes at Harbor College Aug. 24 and play baseball.

During a practice, a ground ball took a bad bounce and caromed off his ankle bracelet. Velasquez immediately examined the unit to see if it was functioning.

“I just thought ‘Oh no. What am I going to do now?,’ ” Velasquez said. “Luckily, it wasn’t broken.”

Velasquez was required to call his probation officer each time he left for school and returned home. Authorities occasionally called and made visits to Velasquez at home and at school to verify his compliance with the house-arrest agreement.

When he was at home, Velasquez was required to remain indoors. He spent much of his time playing video games or cards. He looked to friends, who often changed their social plans to be with him, for support.

“We would buy him something to eat at the burger place because he couldn’t leave school at lunch,” said Flavio Montoya, 18, a Banning classmate. “He was always joking around and hanging out. I couldn’t believe it. I said, ‘No way, this can’t be a guy who would kill someone.’ ”

Velasquez was similarly incredulous April 21, the night of his arrest.

Velasquez and his brother, George, 23, had returned home from a wake for their grandmother, who had died two days earlier. Shortly after their arrival, homicide detectives knocked on the door of the three-bedroom home and told Velasquez he would have to go in for questioning.

“They didn’t tell me what I was there for, I just sat in a little room waiting for an hour,” Velasquez said. “I thought they were going to ask me for information about something that happened around where I live. It’s a bad area. But when they told me I was being charged with the murder, I was shocked and stunned. I couldn’t speak.”

Los Angeles County Deputy District Attorney Michael Mallano said several factors led police to Velasquez, who had no previous criminal record. Witnesses said the killer was wearing a white T-shirt on a chilly night and fled on foot, prompting authorities to believe the murderer lived in the area.

A woman identified Velasquez, who lived less than a block from the shooting, as the suspect from a group of snapshots, according to Mallano. The witness also said the suspect fired with his left hand, which also pointed authorities to the left-handed Velasquez. Velasquez’s testimony also raised suspicion.

“He said a few things that were incriminating,” Mallano said. “He had a great amount of insight about the incident. Armando knew some things about the shooting that the average person wouldn’t have.”

Velasquez said he was only answering questions as truthfully as possible.

“Everybody hears stuff about (shootings) around here,” Velasquez said. “Everybody who lives here knows what happens around Wilmington.”

Bail was set at $1 million and Velasquez spent 15 days in three jails before L.A. County Court Commissioner Robert Axel released him on house arrest May 6. Axel said it was the first time he has granted house arrest to a suspect charged with a crime such as murder in 19 years on the court board.

Axel was presented with nearly 40 letters of recommendation on Velasquez’s behalf from the Banning baseball team, Principal Augie Herrera, teachers and friends. Axel, however, said the letters had little bearing in his ruling.

Instead, Axel said he based the decision on the anticipation of a lengthy investigation before the case went to trial and his inclination that Velasquez posed little threat to flee.

“The prosecution and the defense were working together to find information and it didn’t make sense to have (Velasquez) in lengthy custody,” Axel said.

The 5-foot-10, 170-pound Velasquez lost 15 pounds and missed five games while in jail. Velasquez requested solitary confinement after a riot erupted and an inmate was stabbed on his first day.

“Jail was the worst, I just wanted to get out,” he said.

On the afternoon of his May 6 release, Velasquez watched Banning beat Carson, 6-2, in a Pacific League game. He returned to school the next day. Velasquez worked his way back into the starting lineup and helped the Pilots (15-9) win a share of the league title and a berth in the City Section 4-A Division playoffs.

The play of Velasquez, who batted .225 in 40 at-bats, attracted the interest of Harbor Coach Tony Bloomfield, who invited him to play with the team during summer league. Bloomfield was aware of the murder investigation, but had no reservations about approaching Velasquez.

“If he had enough courage to come and play, that was all that mattered,” Bloomfield said. “You could tell there was a big weight taken off his shoulders when the charges were dropped. It was like a big sigh of relief. His friends told him the situation would take care of itself and not to worry, but he still was always trying to convince everybody he wasn’t guilty.”