Austin Hedges says he’ll be able to visit in the morning.

“I like to finish up by 8 o’clock,” he said.

That might be the funniest thing you hear all spring.

He means after a half-hour on the training table getting a massage or having glass cups attached to his body and suck his skin until it bruises in order to increase blood flow and speed muscle recovery. And after lifting and/or stretching and/or riding the bike. And after hitting in the cage — just some light hitting, maybe off the tee. And after catching — just some light catching drills, maybe some balls in the dirt. And after watching some film of the previous day’s game.


Oh, and after grabbing a bowl full of protein — eggs, spinach, breakfast meat.

Then, provided there isn’t a catchers’ meeting or a reason to meet with a coach or his manager, Hedges will sit down in front of his locker for 45 minutes or so before the team meeting that officially starts another spring training day.

“All these great guys,” Hedges said, “Kobe, Tom Brady, Michael Jordan — you’re always hearing their teammates say they’re not only the best athlete but the hardest worker.”

And there is what Austin Hedges really worked on this offseason.


We’ve heard much about the revamped relaxed swing. We’ve seen the early results in his four home runs in four exhibition games. And being a catcher who doesn’t just catch — even if it is catching as well as anyone catches — is a big part of Hedges’ goal.

But coming out from behind the mask to be just about everything he can be to this team and everyone on it, that is what the goal really is.

This is Hedges’ sixth big-league camp. He’s 25 years old. He just finished his first full season in the major leagues.

He’s been the future for so long.


“Now,” he said, “it’s the now.”

‘Offense, defense, teammate’

The great ones embrace everything as a challenge, whether it was meant to be one.

“It was a big offseason for me,” Hedges said. “Obviously, offensively there was a lot of stuff I was working on. But it was cool, because there were a lot of young guys working out at Petco Park. It was a challenge for the team to put in front of me — ‘Here’s some young guys, they could be a big part of our team two or three years from now. Here you go, let’s see what you got.’

“I wanted to prove to not only them but to myself. I’ve always been the young guy. Now, I want to be like ‘OK, here’s what I learned.’ I want to give back.”


And so it is that the pitching prospects talk about how much Hedges shared in those days at Petco, and minor-league catcher Austin Allen is tagging along to the early weight room sessions.

More than anything, there is a vibe from Hedges. It shines neon in his smile and is broadcast clearly in his earnest questions and intentional conversations.

It’s not an accident, and it hasn’t always been this way. There was a point in the minor leagues where his manager called him into the office and told Hedges his negativity was affecting the entire team.

“I didn’t realize I was,” Hedges said. “I was just worrying about myself. But when you’re being selfish and worrying about yourself, you’re not being a good teammate. I needed to be a better teammate. I need to be great at every aspect of my game, whether it’s offense, defense, teammate, whatever it is. I realize I’m affecting people no matter what I do.”


This offseason, as part of his quest to be the total player, Hedges read “Primal Leadership,” a book that explains the emotions that go into leadership.

“It really hit me hard,” he said. “Sometimes people are like, ‘I’m not going to make anybody’s day and I’m not going to ruin anybody’s day.’ This book was saying you’re doing one or the other.”

Basically, Hedges came to believe that every interaction, no matter how small, contributes to the ebb and flow of everyone’s day.

His desire to be influential seems boundless, and it requires he continues emerging from a comfort zone.


“I’m super introverted,” Hedges said. “I’m an only child. I’m naturally very introverted. It takes a lot to bring me out of my shell. It helps with a special group of guys to open up a little bit. But I feel like I have to take a lot of pride in going, ‘OK, get out of your shell.’

“If I’m not influencing someone in a positive way, I’m influencing them in a negative way. And that’s the last thing this clubhouse needs.”

Pitcher’s helper

Joey Lucchesi, one of the Padres’ top pitching prospects, was throwing a bullpen with Hedges as his catcher.

Afterward, he told Hedges he appreciated a certain way he held his glove to call for a pitch location. Having not worked with Lucchesi but knowing he will be a lot going forward, Hedges took the opportunity to tell him how this relationship would work.


“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do,” Hedges told him. “If you need me to turn around and face backward, I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter what I do. I’m here for you.”

Lucchesi will find out those weren’t just words.

Before he was traded last year, reliever Ryan Buchter marveled at the rookie catcher’s aptitude and commitment.

“He’d stand on his head back there if I told him it would help me,” Buchter said.


There may be no measuring what it does for a pitcher to be so comfortable with the man receiving their pitches. There are, however, metrics to quantify how Hedges aids pitchers in a tangible way.

It’s called framing pitches, and Hedges gets plenty of credit for doing it.

It is much deserved and well earned.

Hedges’ receiving of pitches resulted in Padres pitchers getting a strike call on 89 percent of pitches in the zone (fourth-highest in MLB). And while framing is not meant to trick the umpire, per se, Hedges ranked fifth at “stealing” strikes on pitches outside the zone (getting the call on almost nine percent of such pitches).


Framing is about catching the ball where it’s thrown, something that sounds easier than it actually is when a ball is moving at 96 mph and/or zigging and/or zagging.

But when Hedges catches the ball, it’s almost as if he didn’t catch it. The glove movement is imperceptible. It’s soft, quiet.

Teams try to teach receiving like this, but coaches acknowledge there is only so much they can do with some catchers.

The Padres largely got Hedges self-trained.


He didn’t have any siblings. He wasn’t into video games. His parents were working on weekdays after school.

So when his homework was done, young Austin would take a lacrosse ball and head to the front yard, where standing 20 or 30 feet from a wall, he would throw the ball and then, with his bare left hand, catch it. Over and over. Year after year.

“Studies say it takes 10,000 hours to master something,” Hedges said. “I was probably pretty close to 10,000 hours of catching a ball with my bare hand. I was 7, 8, 9 years old, all the way until high school. I just loved doing that out here. Now when a ball comes at me, I can just react, and I don’t have to think about it too much.”

That’s how it happens that Seattle Mariners slugger Robinson Cano and everyone else in the Peoria Sports Complex except the umpire could see a two-strike pitch from Eric Lauer was low — just before Cano was rung up to help Lauer escape an inning with a runner on second.


“He stole that one for me,” Lauer said. “You don’t see that very often on a (hitter) like that.”

Simply working

Hedges was asked Friday which of his home runs this spring was hardest hit. He had to think about it, and he never came to a clear conclusion.

He’s played in four games and hit a prodigious blast in each of them.

We knew he could hit. His 18 home runs in 2017 were four shy of Mike Piazza’s team record by a catcher.


But then he also struck out way too much and hardly walked.

He worked diligently with assistant hitting coach Johnny Washington until he could consistently maintain a simplified approach at the plate in order to see pitches more easily. He has essentially eliminated any head movement. He is waiting on pitches longer. It’s more “Come to Papa” than caged lion.

The result is that he’s feasting. He has the four homers, a single and two walks in 10 plate appearances.

“The hitting has always been there, even since Double-A,” said outfielder Alex Dickerson, who played in the minors with Hedges. “You saw glimpses. This year, I think you’re going to see the consistency. It just looks like he’s more comfortable in the box. It looks like he’s dictating his at-bats now. It’s not, ‘I’m hoping to jump in there and see what the pitcher is giving me.’ … It’s incredible to watch.”


It’s not by accident. And everyone knows it.

“He works so hard,” Dickerson said. “It’s always one thing or the other. Sometimes I think he might be doing too much, but he doesn’t want to leave it to ‘I didn’t do enough.’ He works as hard as anybody out there.”

kevin.acee@sduniontribune.com