Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 3, 1994 TAG: 9407030013
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: RAY COX
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
"The first time my mom saw me play, she wanted to know why I didn't skip running to first and go right to second," said Marcus Hanel, a catcher for the Salem Buccaneers.
The Hanels had other customs, such as fixing feasts of wienerschnitzel and spaezle, or big grills of bratwursts with red cabbage.
For their sports, they believed in kicking black-and-white balls (no hands allowed).
The elder Hanels also had problems with baseball language. No, not that kind of language, although the Hanels certainly would have been offended had any such talk drifted from the dugout to the grandstands.
"You know how people get mad at the umpire and go, `Come on, Blue!'?" Marcus Hanel said. "Somebody would do that and my mom is like, `Who is this blue guy?' "
Some baseball people also might have a tough time occasionally catching the drift of Herr and Frau Hanel, who had come to Racine, Wis., from the old country.
"They're as German as German can be," their son said.
Even though the Hanels might not have understood the intricacies of the infield-fly rule, they did know how to read a baseball contract.
The agreed to let their only son and elder child (Nicole is the younger) sign with the Pittsburgh Pirates only weeks after he graduated from high school in return for his vow to pursue his college degree as soon as was practicable.
That was 1989. With a few zigs and zags along the way, the Pirates' 18th-round draft pick arrived in Salem. Hanel has been here two full years and change now and, as with the first day he arrived, he is known as a fine defensive receiver with a strong arm, good size 6-feet-4, 205 pounds - and a sharp mind. That accompanied by the kind of attitude - "What do you want me to do next, coach?" - that every pro athlete should have.
Hanel's problem has been his bat. For the first two years here, Hanel would tell you he was overanalyzing at the plate.
Hanel overanalyzed his way to frequent trips south of that demarcation of ill-repute, the Mendoza line. His best pro year was his first, and then he hit only .231 with Bradenton of the short-season Gulf Coast League. He's never been over .186 for a full season.
Hanel was not invited to fall instructional league after last season's .185, two-homer, 16 RBI tour of the Carolina League. That was a clear warning. Spring training of 1994 would be crucial.
Hanel told his parents this was not the year to start working on that degree. Other labor awaited him.
"I lifted the weights really hard this winter and I did a lot of hitting," he said.
In that respect, Hanel was very fortunate. The man who owned the Racine beer distributorship for which he toted cases and hoisted kegs, Bob Domanik, loves baseball. Domanik is so crazy about it that his wife bought him a batting cage and pitching machine to put in his warehouse. Domanik took some cuts every now and then, but the cage's main customer was Hanel.
"Every day I was in there," he said.
Some days, he'd hit off the pitching machine. Some days he'd hit live pitching when his high school teammate, Tommy Howe, would get off work and come throw him some batting practice.
Some days it was too cold in the unheated warehouse.
"When it got down below 20, my wooden bats would break," Hanel said. "I had to get an aluminum one so I could save my wooden bats to hit live pitching."
Hanel had a lot of hometown backing. You can count the pro players in the past quarter-century out of Racine, a town a little smaller than Roanoke about 25 minutes south of Milwaukee, on one hand. Former major-league pitcher Shane Rawley is the only one of much note.
By the age of 15, Hanel was playing with college players and former pros on the town's only semipro team, which competed in a Milwaukee league. Hanel was playing 50 of those games a year, not counting the 16 he played in the frequently polar climate of the spring Wisconsin high school season.
What's the big deal about a chilly warehouse? After the winter he had, Hanel was ready for Florida this spring. The Pirates had him working out with Class AA Carolina right until the final week before sending him back to Salem.
"It was disappointing, sure," he said. "But I decided to make the best of the situation."
People forget that despite his veteran status in Salem, Hanel is only 22 years old. The Bucs' other catcher, Jason Kendall, who is younger than Hanel, is a prospect. Hanel has had to get his at-bats and innings when he could. In keeping with his vow, he's made the most of the situation.
The primary evidence is his work with the bat. Through Thursday, Hanel had hit .289 with 41 hits, four home runs and 16 RBI.
"I think [the improvement] has to do with me being a little more mature, a little more patient," he said. "My swing is a lot better, too. Instead of missing that pitch over the plate, I'm attacking it now."
Hanel has suffered the strains of professional ball with grace and unfailingly good humor. Once you know something of his background, you'll understand.
Marcus' father, Herbert, is 67 and his mother, Klara, is 59. They delayed starting a family because world history interfered.
Herr Hanel doesn't like to talk about it much, but Marcus gathers that he was involved with reconnaissance for the German Navy during World War II. Frau Hanel's memories of her childhood in Heidelberg include air-raid sirens in the night and hasty trips to the cellar to dodge the bombs.
One bomb, the family home did not escape. The only possession that was not crushed or burned was a kite made by Frau Hanel's brother that had been hanging on the living room wall.
Frau Hanel said it was a miracle.
"My parents had a different kind of experience," Marcus Hanel said. "They taught me that when you are doing bad, that you have to remember that there are other things going on in the world.
"They taught me to never get too big on myself, because at any second you could turn around and it will all be gone."
by CNB