Day Forty Three: Rey Quinones

I thought that Rey Quinones was only legendary in our house, but he is evidently memorable enough that he has his own SABR Bio (of course he played for the Red Sox so it makes sense), where I was able to fact check some of the things that I remember hearing about Quinones. Yes, he did indeed disappear for the first two weeks of spring training in 1987, and yes he did hold out again in 1988 claiming that he didn't need to play baseball because he owned a liquor store in Puerto Rico that he could live off. Both of those things did occur. And he could throw as good as any shortstop that I've ever seen. The eyes of a little kid could tell that, and I am backed up by the (very thorough) SABR Bio linked from Rey's Baseball Reference Page. I thought that it would be good to talk about Quinones after talking about Hendu because they are the two pivotal players that switched places in 86. Of course Spike Owen was also thrown in and of course Boston media liked him much better than Quinones (they are racist), but who gives a fuck about Spike Owen anyways? Sorry Spike Owen fans.

Rey Quinones is such a hard luck and hard attitude story it's difficult for me to not want to write an entire novel about the guy. But basically, here's a guy who is probably the number one middle-infield prospect in the Boston organization (he was 22 in 86!) who basically got run out of town due to some serious inequities. As the story goes, Dennis Boyd was renting a condo that he owned to the young Quinones, and Dennis Boyd "assaulted" Boston police in front of the condo during the summer of 86. Ok. First off, "assaulting" police is impossible in the United States, and second Dennis Boyd is a black man living in Boston, Massachusetts. I don't really care what actually happened, that is enough right there. Fuck the police. So poor Rey was caught up in all that and basically lost any chance of getting a continued look from the Red Sox and missed out on the chance to play in the World Series. Who knows what would have come from that? The 1986 World Series push is filled with tragic outcomes. And Quinones is certainly puzzling, if not outrightly tragic.

Arriving in Seattle, Quinones began to show that he was also going to have a rough go as a Mariner. He battled with the front office and was again traded in 89 to the Pirates. He created friction there as well, and nobody signed him after the 89 season. He was out of the game at the age of 25. From top notch prospect at 22, to finished at 25. That's something else. Even genuinely bad players get a longer look than that. And Quinones was legit good!

It reminds me of how young a person actually is at 22, 23, 24, or 25. I thought that I was an adult capable of existing in the world at that time. But I was assuredly not. But I was just some white kid cooking in a New Mexican restaurant on Phinney Ridge, not a shortstop prospect who owned a liquor store in Puerto Rico. The amount of fucking up that your average 23 year old does, it's a miracle that any of these young prospects make it past their first couple years. But poor Rey Quinones with the rifle arm couldn't get his shit together. And most of us can't. I will always treasure the strange times we spent together when we were both hella young. And here's to hoping that systemic racism in vicious New England towns and US policies towards Puerto Rico change one day and the next Rey Quinones gets a legit chance before being written off.