Family Keeps Colby Blueberg Focused on Success
Summer time in Reno, Nevada, meant the Carson City Little League All-Stars were on display. A dozen or so youngsters aged anywhere from 8-10-years-old were scattered around the Washoe Little League Field.
"We were getting hammered that day," the manager remembers. But after each base hit whizzed into the outfield, Jim Blueberg called for his son to take the mound.
"They kept hitting him too. I think there were tears running down his eyes on the mound," he jokes with a smile. "But the reason why I put him out there, I knew he was the one kid that could hold it together and not have a meltdown. He was controlling his emotions."
"Yea, I remember that," the nine-year-old, who just celebrated his 22nd birthday last month, recalls. "Why are you doing this to me dad," he laughs. "My dad put me in situations like that throughout my career and I'm glad, it helped me get tough. It helped me build some rhino skin."
Colby Blueberg is one of the most mentally tough closers in the Midwest League. The hard-throwing right-hander has a penchant for dispelling the drama in ninth innings. Through the first half of the season, the six-foot, 185-pounder has a scorching 1.14 ERA and nine saves - tied for third best in the league
"He was always good at controlling his emotions, from day one, I could tell," recalls his father Jim, who also played professional baseball.
The Padres selected Colby in the 24th round of 2014's MLB First-Year Player Draft. The former middle infielder who was a four-sport athlete growing up in Carson City eventually transformed to a pitcher when he traveled 34 miles up the road along Interstate 580 to Reno to play college baseball at the University of Nevada.
"When the game is on the line, and it's the most important situation, you have to be able to dig down deep and be there for your teammates. I tell myself do your part, over and over, do your part. My teammates worked to get me here."
Colby's toughness quickly impressed his Manager in Fort Wayne, Francisco Morales. "He's competitive. When that fastball starts running like it does, you better watch out. He's able to handle the pressure."
"That role fires me up," Colby says. "My coach in college used to rag on me and try and get under my skin and I never let it get to me. He would say, 'Hey, Blueberg, you got some rhino skin, you don't get rattled.'"
The durability and aggressiveness he brings to the mound comes from within. Something that's stirred by his family.
MOUNTAIN MEN
It's not hard to find the Bluebergs on Sunday afternoons in the fall. Underneath the big blue sky and puffy clouds above, just look for the archery range and horseshoe pit tucked back behind the trees on the family's property. You might spot an RV parked out in front of the house.
"Our family, there's always an atmosphere of togetherness," Jim admits. "I think that is extremely important. We're very blessed to have that."
Every Sunday, Colby, his siblings and his parents travel four miles down the road to his grandparents' house. A family tradition. Televisions around the back porch show the day's most exciting football games and the grill is always lit for tasty barbecue cuisine.
"We have a really tight-knit family, that's the way we were raised," Colby says. "Staying close was so important amongst our family, we have each other's backs."
The TinCaps closer credits most of his success during a grueling 140-game season to his support system at home. Every game he appears in, the text messages come streaming in.
"Oh yea, we have a group text going, every time he comes out of the bullpen," his father says.
Keeping track of the messages, well, that's the real trick. "After each good outing, I get blown up with so many texts," Colby laughs.
In addition to Jim, the group text includes Colby's mother, Heather, and siblings, Chase and Chandler, as well as Colby's grandfathers, Jim Sr. and Steve, and grandmothers, Mary and Barbara.
"And my aunts, Jody and Rachel," he blurts out, pondering to make sure he didn't forget anyone. After each game, Colby scans the messages of praise or sometimes brief despair, depending on the moment. He chuckles at the fact that he has his own personal post-game box score.
"It helps you get through this Minor League grind. Knowing you have family looking out for you and praying for you, it really helps you get through those tough moments."
Colby admits that if all else fails, there's always family to fall back on. Without Colby's grandfather, Jim, who helped create that atmosphere, Fort Wayne's reliable righty doesn't become the person he is today.
TOUGH LOVE
The scoreboard above the right field fence at Parkview Field reads two outs in the top of the seventh. The TinCaps are in position to close out game two of their doubleheader with the Great Lakes Loons on a warm May evening. Colby's time seated down the right-field line on the green-colored bench is over. His next task is Jacob Scavuzzo, after having retired the first two batters without trouble. The closer's ERA is now at a blistering 0.64. How difficult is one more batter?
A few minutes later, the final out the frame was recorded. But not before two runs had come in. Fort Wayne's one-run lead turned into a one-run deficit. A quiet bottom of the seventh resulted in a 2-1 loss.
From the dugout, Colby walks down the long corridor to the clubhouse, a quick left-hand turn to enter. One more right-hand swerve and he reaches his locker. He reads the texts from his family, but one stands out from his grandfather.
"He said, 'If you're going to lose focus with two outs like that in the ninth, you might as well come home.' I'm thinking, wow, that's pretty tough right there. But I thought about it, and yea, you're right, pop."
His grandfather keeps him in line, and keeps him focused. The straight shooter molded his grandson.
"I said that because no one else in the family says it," the laughter bellowing deep beneath Jim Sr.'s gut before he can finish the thought. "Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I give it to you straight."
"There's not one moment where he isn't proud of me," Colby responds. "He's always there to tell me when I did well, but he's also always there when I need to fix something. I love him for that, and I respect him for that."
Colby's grandfather played baseball growing up as well. Both Colby and his father claim that Jim Sr. is by far the best baseball talent in the family. The humble, hard-working former steel-worker from Chicago refers to himself as just another sandlot star.
"I call my dad John Wayne," Jim says of his father. "He wears the boots, built a beautiful cabin home amongst the gigantic pine trees. He's a hunter as well."
Jim Sr. confirms, alas, he does fit the rugged persona of the famous gun-slinging cowboy.
"I worked very hard at keeping this family close and keeping these grandkids close, and they all live within four miles of us," he says.
Colby acquired the grittiness from his grandfather. "Like my grandpa told me," he preaches. "If you get punched in the mouth, what are you going to do? Are you going to punch back or keep backing up?"
After that humid May night against Great Lakes, Colby didn't yield a run in his next eight consecutive appearances, and was a perfect seven-for-seven in save opportunities.
"The focus has been great lately," Colby says. "Sometimes you need a game like that. You get a little too relaxed and something like that happens to you. I'm glad our family gets on me when they need to get on me."
CHASING THE DREAM
Like all professional ball players, Colby one day wants to play in the Majors, more specifically at Petco Park, the home of the Padres. Colby's father, Jim, had that same goal as well after he was drafted by the Mariners during the second round of the 1986 MLB Draft.
"I always tell him, learn to enjoy the moment. You're trying so hard to succeed, you don't want to miss the journey."
Fort Wayne's closer has enjoyed the road to the bigs and the success on the mound that has come along with it. That's because Colby's game elevates during the pressure-packed moments.
"That ninth inning thing isn't for everybody," Jim says, a former starter. "He has that grit, that ability to survive in an atmosphere that most people can't. And it goes back to that game when he was nine year's old on the mound. I knew there was something special then."