Farm report: Bucky's bat has been big in Tacoma
Perhaps there is more legend than fact to Bucky Jacobsen. Perhaps more has been offered than he can deliver. Perhaps he's too good to be true. But there is no question that his timing is impeccable.
In pure Bunyanesque tradition, Jacobsen has appeared, almost out of nowhere, wielding lumber in a fashion like few others have in Mariners minor-league history. He is a physical and almost mythical figure who has emerged at a time when Mariners fans are looking for someone to ease the pain of a woebegone season. He has become the buzz of the season, with a growing drumbeat to elevate him onto the big stage.
Meet Bucky Jacobsen, the real life Bull of the North Woods.
"I want to thank my mom and dad for naming me Bucky," said Jacobsen, the designated hitter/first baseman for the Class AAA Tacoma Rainiers.
Larry William Buck Jacobsen. That name has been reduced to a marvelous baseball nickname, Bucky. Like Babe, Baby Bull, Boomer and Boom Boom. At 6 feet 4 and 260 pounds, he fits it. He has Mark McGwire's size and a red goatee, with Jay Buhner's distinctive bald head and the charitable nature of Jamie Moyer.
"If I was a fan and saw a big guy like me on deck, it's obvious I'm not going to lay a bunt down and steal a couple bases," Jacobsen said. "There's always the potential for a home run. People anticipate how far I'm going to hit one. They remember that name. Then if I hit a home run, they might remember me."
He hasn't been overlooked this season. Jacobsen is having the definition of a monster year for the Rainiers. In 74 games, he's hitting .325 with 24 home runs and 79 runs batted in, most in the Pacific Coast League. Ryan Howard, a Class AA slugger for Reading in the Eastern League, leads baseball with 84 RBI, but Jacobsen has had 33 fewer at-bats. St. Louis third baseman Scott Rolen has the most RBI in the majors, 80.
Only four players in baseball have hit more home runs. Howard has 32. Philadelphia's Jim Thome has 27, Calvin Pickering of Class AAA Omaha has 26, and Brandon Sing, a Class A player for Daytona, has 25.
However, what perpetuates the Jacobsen myth is not just how many, but how far.
"He hits them as far as anyone I've ever seen," said Rainiers manager Dan Rohn.
A month ago, Jacobsen hit a ball over the left-center-field light tower at Cheney Stadium. That feat would not seem possible without using a cannon.
Two weeks ago in Fresno, he hit two home runs in one game over the center-field batter's eye. One of them traveled an estimated 530 feet.
"Huge, huge, huge," Rainiers batting coach Terry Pollreisz said of the home run, repeating with a dramatic pause between each word. "Thome is the first guy who comes to mind to compare him to. He has some kind of power like that."
Jacobsen was born in Riverton, Wyo., and raised in Hermiston, Ore., a town of 13,000 about 30 miles south of the Tri-Cities. He played baseball and football for Hermiston High and was ready to walk on as a defensive end for the Oregon football team.
Then he had a chance meeting with an old baseball coach in a grocery store. The coach had just taken over at Blue Mountain Community College in Pendleton, Ore., and convinced Jacobsen to walk on. Jacobsen then played for Lewis-Clark State College in Lewiston, Idaho. That gave him enough exposure to be drafted in the seventh round by the Milwaukee Brewers in 1997.
Jacobsen spent six uneven years in the Brewers' system. He had 27 home runs and 100 RBI for Beloit, Wis., in 1998. But injuries limited him to just eight home runs the following season.
He continued to fight injuries and inconsistency until the Brewers released him in 2002. He played for Tennessee in the St. Louis system last season, hitting .298 with 31 home runs and 84 RBI. He became a free agent at the end of the season.
"When the Mariners called the first day, that was great. I grew up as a Mariners fan," Jacobsen said. "I did some research, and it was almost too good to be true. Edgar Martinez had maybe one or two years left. John Olerud had one or two years left. My family could watch me. It's an AL team, so that doubles my chances (with the DH). I only thought for a couple days, then signed."
Although he hasn't won a big-league job yet, he has won some serious fan allegiances. On May 10, 1998, while playing for Beloit against Kane County in Geneva, Ill., he was playing right field near a graduation/birthday party in a VIP deck. The fans near the right-field line liked his name and began chanting, "B-U-C-K-Y." He responded with two doubles that day, and after the game he went over and met the folks.
That was the genesis for a fan club known as Bucky Backers. There is even a Web site honoring everything Bucky.
"If fans liking me is what I needed to get to the big leagues," he said, "then I'd have been there a long time ago."
There is such irony to his sudden emergence. He's a guy with raw power and prodigious blasts, playing one level down from a team that is last in home runs. But a knee injury suffered last season has limited his time playing first base. He's used almost exclusively as the designated hitter. The Mariners already have the greatest DH in history, Martinez. It doesn't matter how large his legend is, Jacobsen is not about to displace the longest-serving and most revered Mariner.
"If I hit .450 with 50 home runs, I shouldn't be playing over Edgar or John Olerud," Jacobsen said. "They have the experience that I can't compare."
But, oh, those numbers.
"Can he play up there? Only time will tell if he gets a chance," Rohn said. "A guy with those kind of numbers, I think it's worthy of at least a look — just my opinion. If he gets his knee back to 100 percent, he's not that bad around the bag."
Pollreisz has advised him that "you can't play the game that you can't control," meaning he shouldn't dwell on what the Mariners might do, but what he can do to attract attention.
"His bat is getting quicker and quicker. He's learning every day. He's recognizing pitches. He's hitting mistake pitches," Pollreisz said. "You never know when those opportunities are going to come. Bucky is on the right path for it."
Benny Looper, the Mariners' vice president of development and scouting, is known for his patience and conservative approach to players. But at 28 years old and beyond the prospect list, Jacobsen doesn't figure to need cautious treatment.
"The more we find out now, the easier it will be for (GM) Bill (Bavasi) to know what to do this winter," Looper said. "But you have to have a spot for him. He's had a heck of a year, but he's in a real limited role as a right-handed DH."
Jacobsen said his injured right knee, which needs to be drained of fluid every few weeks, does not hurt or limit him. He said he can play first base if needed. He has had plenty of injuries throughout his career and has continued to play. He currently also has a sore finger and plantar fasciitis.
"I feel my swing is at the point where there are not a whole lot of holes consistently there," he said. "I might get beat inside, but I'm smart enough to make the adjustment. The maturity in my swing is there. The maturity in my mind is there."
Jacobsen may be the real deal or just a myth. He is not unlike many other sluggers who have had huge minor-league numbers but either couldn't reach the big leagues or couldn't sustain it once they got there. There have been a long line of those kind of hitters in Tacoma alone: Juan "Large Human" Thomas, Ron Wright, Ozzie Timmons, Greg Pirkl, Rob Nelson, Dan Rohrmeier and Brick Smith.
"There aren't many guys like me, in the sense that I can hit for power, average," Jacobsen said. "I think, for a guy my size, I can run a little bit. I'm not going to clog up the bases. You have to convince somebody in a power position that you have something that they need.
"It (image) has always followed me around — the name, the fact that I'm a big guy and I'm nice to people. But above and beyond that, you have to put up numbers. Hopefully, the Mariners will see that."
Bob Sherwin: 206-464-8286 or bsherwin@seattletimes.com