CAMDEN, N.J. -- From where he plays on the waterfront, just down the way from a retired Navy battleship that saw action in World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam and provided support off of Lebanon in '83, you can see the glow of Major League Baseball on a given summer evening. The lights from the ballpark on the other side of the river thaw the night sky. It's so close you can swim it.
Sometimes Ben Davis can close his eyes and feel the breeze off the water and he is back in San Diego and life went the way he thought it would 15 years ago, back when he was selected by the Padres with the second overall pick, sandwiched between Darin Erstad and Kerry Wood. That meteoric rise to the bigs had only heightened his belief that right about now he'd be in the twilight of a successful career as a big league catcher, a favorite son along Mission Beach perhaps splitting time with his successor as the Pods make a playoff push.
Instead he plays in Jersey. Ben Davis is Crash Davis with a caveat.
He's a pitcher.
Once the kid with the rocket arm, Ben Davis is now a man with three kids and a splatter of gray on his temples who's giving it one last long shot comeback try, reverse Rick Ankiel style. After all these years, seven major league organizations and three separate stints here in Camden with the Riversharks of the Independent Atlantic League, he can still throw.
"People ask me what I throw and I say I throw as hard as I can every time," Ben Davis grins.
Just like on the Boardwalk.
"I think that's my catcher mentality stepping in there," he says.
In 2001, he caught 138 games for the Padres.
That winter he was traded with Alex Arias and Wascar Serrano to the Mariners for Brett Tomko, Tom Lampkin and Ramon Vazquez.
He began an odyssey trying to keep his career alive. In Seattle, he split time with veteran catcher Dan Wilson for two years and his star dulled and dwindled. Once the Padres bailed and traded him, that was really good night for Ben Davis.
He worked hard on his offense but could never seem to barrel up consistently. The can't-miss kid missed a lot at the plate and the Mariners didn't have much invested in him and so he was ultimately dealt to the White Sox in June 2004, a throw-in, a spare part in a trade that targeted pitcher Freddy Garcia. He was sent to Triple-A Charlotte, where he played 10 games and missed the rest of the season with a broken finger and then an elbow injury that required Tommy John surgery.
From there, Ben Davis became a career minor leaguer. He never gave up, trying desperately to rekindle interest in the Yankees' system, then the Dodgers' system and finally the Orioles' system.
And then it dawned on him.
Might as well try the arm.
"I kept looking up at the scoreboard while I was catching, and I kept seeing my average plummet," he says. "I was in Triple-A with the Orioles in 2008, down in Norfolk, and for whatever reason, it just started to be a grind for me offensively. I kind of had a sense I might get let go from the team and I figured, 'Why don't I try and just start pitching'. I didn't think a team was going to pick me up for a being a catcher anymore. I knew I could still catch and throw but just the offensive part was really a struggle for me. So I went home and started to work on pitching."
'The Bunt'
You may remember Ben Davis for one controversial play. It happened during that season Ben Davis was a regular with the Padres. The day late in May that Ben Davis became Bunt Davis.
While pitching for the Diamondbacks, Curt Schilling took a perfect game into the eighth inning with one out when Davis stepped to the plate and the Padres trailing 2-0. He spied that patch of space on the right side of the infield in front of Arizona second baseman Jay Bell.
So he bunted.
And easily beat it out for a single to bust up Schilling's perfect game, and creating a fury in the Diamondbacks' dugout.
"It was 2-0, last time I checked," Davis defends a decade later. "I get on, the tying run comes to the plate. It's late in the game. I don't think anyone was going to get a hit off him that night, he was that on. And I know Curt is, he is what he is. He is going to get his opinion out there, and rightfully so. He's done amazing things in this game. But I looked out there and Jay Bell was playing shallow in right field it seemed to me and I pulled a bunt, it wasn't the greatest of bunts, but I got on. And Bubba Trammell is behind me, he had 25 homers that year, you know, I brought up the tying run. If it was 7-0 what's the sense in doing that? But the bottom line is it was 2-0 and there was nothing wrong with it."
Alex Arias lined a clean double to lead off the ninth and Schilling wound up throwing a three-hitter. Manager Bob Brenly later called him a chicken. Schilling charged that he broke a cherished baseball code.
"I remember Bob Brenley yelling at me," Davis says. "Matt Mantai, those guys on the bench. I remember going back sitting and I'm warming up and they're yelling at me all kinds of words and I don't really know what's going on. So I go in and I sit next to Tony Gwynn and I say, 'Hey T, did I do something wrong? These guys are yelling at me.' He's like, 'Man, you didn't do anything wrong. Don't worry about it. To hell with those guys over there.'"
Davis does a great imitation of Tony Gwynn, hanging his voice high.
"Well I had to listen to him for so many years; I have him down pretty good," he says. "I'll tell you what, Tony really helped me through that. He had my back. Those guys were really upset. The greatest thing about that whole thing, for me, was that we went back to Arizona the following week and had to face Schilling again. And when I got introduced there were 50,000 people booing me. And I was like, 'Man, this is pretty cool.'
"And my first at-bat off of Curt, I hit a single up the middle. My second at-bat, I hit a double down the line. So that made up for it."
Change of Pace
Now 33, Ben Davis has been pitching for two summers. He throws a two-seamer and a four-seamer. He has a curveball and a slider but he's a fastball-change-up man, a pitcher's version of meat and potatoes.
The Reds gave him a look in their system last season as a reliever. But he's back now in Camden starting for manager Von Hayes, trying to revive interest from big league teams.
"I really like the starting role," says Davis, who is 2-5 with a 6.35 ERA in 17 games. "You know how to get your body in shape to feel good that day. And you can work out in between, which is even better for me. You know, as a reliever, you never know how hard to go one day in the weight room, or how much to run and this and that. It's great for me you know, three days after I start, I can get up and take my kids to the Y, and work out while they are playing around and stuff. It just makes it a lot easier on me and the family. And my wife appreciates that when I get them out of the house – which doesn't happen as much as she would like, I am sure."
That's how guys who still dream talk. How it fits in with the family.
"I'm always optimistic," Ben Davis says. "That's why I am here. I still love playing but I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't think I could offer something to an organized club. I know I'm not getting any younger. I know I'm 33-years old."
He pauses. The big leagues are literally a couple miles away, right across the river to Philadelphia. The lights from Citizen's Bank Park – home of the Phillies – beckon him.
He says he knows it's probably not going to happen. Not now.
But as long as there's hope he'll try. He'll pitch on Stars Wars Night or Sleep Over in the Outfield Night or Bring Your Dog to the Game Night.
He'll pitch whenever they tell him.
"It's that slight chance," Ben Davis says. "I know it's my last go-around. I had some great moments in the big leagues. But I think if I was able to make it back as a pitcher ... I can't even begin to tell you what that would mean. I am not going to lie. That's why I am still doing it."