Ibanez planning to be strong presence for Phillies

CHERRY HILL, N.J. - The cell phone buzzes, and Steve Saunders glances at the text. Behind him, two members of the Eagles' offensive line grip dumbbells as polo-shirted trainers monitor their movements in a wall-length mirror. Ten miles away, across a river and a city and a snarled stretch of macadam, Raul Ibanez is engaged in a dashboard-pounding ritual familiar to most Philadelphia drivers. Saunders laughs and shows the screen of his phone to a visitor.

"This road sucks!," it reads.

Thirty minutes later, Ibanez strolls into Power Train Sports wearing sweat pants, a sweat shirt and thick facial hair that he hasn't gotten around to shaving. The beard, dark black with a patch of gray near the chin, offers a distinguished look, much different from the Tom-Hanks-in-Castaway vibe favored by Jayson Werth last season. As Ibanez prepares for the day's workout and grumbles about the traffic, he does so with a lighthearted flicker in his eyes.

This year, not even the Schuylkill Expressway can keep Ibanez from the gym.

"This," he says, "is much more normal."

Last offseason, nothing was normal for the veteran leftfielder, who enters spring training in the last year of a 3-year, $31.5 million contract he signed in December of 2008.

Surgery to repair two significant tears in his abdomen left him with a dramatically altered schedule, one that required him to rehabilitate his injury while also building his body for the upcoming season. When he arrived in Clearwater, Fla., last February, he declared himself healthy and ready to go, determined to prove he was the player who carried the Phillies for the first half of 2009 before returning from a disabled-list stint to hit .232 in his last 72 games. Instead, his struggles began anew: first in spring training, when he went 7-for-54 in Grapefruit League play, then in the regular season, when he entered the All-Star break hitting .243 with a .724 OPS.

As Ibanez floundered at the plate, searching for the swing that had carried him through 14 major league seasons, Charlie Manuel began working Ben Francisco into leftfield against lefthanded pitchers.

"He's always been a regular player, and it's kind of hard to slow him down," the Phillies manager said. "He thinks when he comes to the ballpark that he's going to be playing every day. Even last year, when I sat him, I had to bring him in, had to talk to him, tell him why. I think that he wasn't used to that."

To understand Ibanez, you must understand his journey. Born in New York to a young husband and wife who fled Castro's Cuba in the late 1960s, Ibanez grew up working near the cruise ship terminals in South Florida. The Mariners drafted him in the 36th round in 1992, after Benny Looper, then Seattle's national scouting director, watched him play at a junior college in Miami. Ibanez started crushing minor league pitching that summer and never stopped, posting a 1.007 OPS in his season at high-A, a .963 OPS at Double A, and a .847 OPS in his first full season at Triple A.

But the Mariners were loaded in those days. The 1997 team, which featured outfielders Jose Cruz, Ken Griffey Jr. and Jay Buhner and designated hitter Edgar Martinez, won the American League West. Ibanez had some opportunities over the next few seasons, but never earned a regular role. He was 29 years old when he logged his first season with more than 300 plate appearances.

"He was a guy who needed an opportunity," said Looper, now an assistant general manager with the Phillies.

He got that opportunity in Kansas City, where he hit .291 with an .839 OPS from 2001-03 before returning to the Mariners as a free agent. His second stint in Seattle began in 2004, when a 41-year-old Martinez was concluding a brilliant career that has merited him Hall of Fame consideration. In many ways, Ibanez carried the torch, hitting .291 and averaging 23 home runs from 2004 to 2008.

"Raul always asked questions and loved to learn," Martinez said. "He was also very disciplined, one of the hardest workers I played with."

That work ethic is evident on this particular day, as Saunders leads Ibanez through a series of exercises aimed at building strength and stability in his core muscles. As Ibanez stands one-legged on a bench, lowering himself downward while gripping a dumbbell attached to resistance bands, the trainer counts to six. On the final rep, Ibanez sways to his right before steadying himself.

"That one didn't count," he says, lowering himself once more.

Ibanez decided to remain in Philadelphia for the offseason to keep his children in school, but only after finding a trainer who he felt measured up to his strength coaches in Miami. Four days a week, Ibanez has traveled to South Jersey from his home in Wayne to work with Saunders, who trains a slew of football players, including the Eagles' Todd Herremans and the Steelers' James Harrison. The fifth day, he works with a kickboxing instructor.

"That guy still wants to play and excel more than 21-year-olds that I see," Saunders says. "It's uncommon."

Ibanez finished the 2010 season strong, hitting .309 with an .869 OPS and nine home runs after the All-Star break. But he will be 39 years old in June, an age when most players are looking for second careers.

"The moment that I say, 'I can't have a better season than last season,' then it's probably time to go home," Ibanez says. "I just don't feel like I've had that season yet."

Ibanez avoids excuses like a germaphobe avoids trash. He treats failure like Joel Barish treated heartbreak. Ask him how much his surgery impacted his training last offseason, and all he says is, "It wasn't pretty for a while." Ask him to reflect on his struggles last spring, and his face goes blank.

"I think that's one of the great things as a pro athlete, to try to have a short memory," Ibanez says. "I remember the season, I remember being disappointed with my performance, knowing it's unacceptable. I just know that I haven't felt strong like this in some time. And I'm excited."

He is surrounded by the echoing clang of weights meeting rack, of trainers counting reps. Behind him, Saunders prepares an exercise. There are people, Ibanez is told, who think his best days are behind him, who think a lineup in need of power is foolish to look toward him.

The flicker in his eye returns.

"I can't wait," he says softly. "I'm not going to lie to you. I can't wait."

For more Phillies coverage and opinion, read David Murphy's blog, High Cheese, at www.philly.com/HighCheese. Follow him on Twitter at

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