PHILADELPHIA — The morning after the baseball world watched him cry, Todd Kerkering saw a bunch of texts from his old Marine buddies. “Yeah,” Kerkering responded, “you saw me cry like a baby.” It was a beautiful moment, a father so proud of his son, whose incredible six-month journey has carried him from the Florida State League to the majors. Orion Kerkering has a mantra. He’s here for a reason.
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Todd, who was a recon Marine and sniper during his 20 years in the Marine Corps, does not know why he cried. He cried when Orion called him last week to tell him he had realized a dream. At that moment, Todd was worried. He is the emergency manager for Sarasota, Fla., which encountered flooding from Hurricane Idalia.
“When will you pitch?” Todd asked.
“I don’t know,” Orion said. “I could pitch tonight I guess.”
“I can’t be there tonight, dude,” Todd said. “There’s no way.”
And that was fine. Orion didn’t pitch Friday. The game was too close. Same with Saturday. By then, Todd was at Citizens Bank Park. He got to hug his big-league son. And, on Sunday night, he was in the stands to watch him pitch. He saw how the fans greeted him with a standing ovation as the venerable Dan Baker announced it was Orion’s major-league debut. He could not help it as his 22-year-old son threw slider after slider to record two strikeouts in his first inning with the Phillies.
When your son, Orion Kerkering, makes his MLB debut and gets two strikeouts … there IS crying in baseball. 🥹
— MLB (@MLB) September 25, 2023
He cried.
“I guess it was just seeing the kid,” Todd, who is 59, said Monday morning. “I don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of good things. I’ve seen a lot of ugly things in my life. I guess maybe it’s a culmination of all those things through life and, you finally reach a point when you get to something that is just unbelievable. I mean, there are 900 guys roughly in the MLB right now at that level. And he’s one of them. You know? I mean, I don’t know. It’s just what came out.”
He scanned the text messages from his Marine friends. They know Todd and some of them know Orion. They understood.
“I got tears in my eyes, too,” one told him. “Don’t worry.”
Two months ago, Todd went to a Little League tournament in Sarasota. He saw some kids come into the dugout and slam their bats. They were upset because their parents were screaming. They could not concentrate. There was too much pressure.
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“I always told Orion when he was young,” Todd said, “some kids quit when they’re 10 and some kids get to quit when they’re 40. You pick. You have fun.”
There was only one rule.
“You have to put in that work,” Todd said. “And he put in the work. I told him, ‘Whatever you do, just be the best at it. Go have fun with whatever you do in life. You want to be the best plumber? Be the best plumber. You want to be the best doctor? Just work hard and enjoy what you do.’ I guess it was just a lot of emotion coming out that way. Just seeing him.”
Seeing him be one of the best. When Orion started the season at Low-A Clearwater, he could text Todd in the afternoon to tell him if he was pitching that night. After work, Todd made the drive to the Phillies complex. He wasn’t surprised when the Phillies promoted Orion to High-A Jersey Shore in May. He watched the games online. Orion kept dominating. He called his dad in June to say he was going to Double-A Reading.
“Then,” Todd said, “I’m like, ‘Oh, wow. OK, kid.’ This is just awesome, you know?”
Todd knew his son was a good player when he was in high school. He ditched a curveball to throw the slider he throws now. He gained strength and velocity and confidence. He played for the Florida Burn, a major travel ball program, and one of his teammates was Braden Halladay. Roy Halladay was a volunteer pitching coach. While Orion was with the Burn, he shook off his catcher and threw the pitches he wanted. A Burn coach suggested to Todd that this might not sit well with Orion’s high school coach once he left the travel team.
“What does Roy say?” Todd asked.
“He doesn’t care,” the coach said. “He wants him to throw with conviction. If he wants to shake them off, he shakes them off.”
Last week, when Orion was promoted to the majors, a Florida Burn coach named Josh Sinabaldi texted Todd to congratulate him.
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“He said to me that after one of the first bullpens that Orion threw with Roy, Roy said he would make it to the majors,” Todd said. “But they never told me that. And I’m good with that. I’m good.”
As the Phillies pushed Orion this year, they did it based not only on the numbers or the stuff, but also his mindset. They were impressed by how Orion handled different challenges.
Todd thought it was important for his son to have control over his life. Some Little League coaches wanted 9-year-old Orion to play with the 12-year-olds. He could have done it.
“Do you want to stay here, play every inning of every game, or go up and do one at-bat and six outs?” Todd asked.
“I want to play every inning,” Orion said.
“All right,” Todd said.
“And the coaches were mad because I wouldn’t let him go up. I’m like, ‘It’s his call at 9. Not mine.’”
Orion developed a bond with his father. He was the first person he called last week once he knew he was headed to the majors.
“He’s been crying ever since I told him,” Orion said on the NBC Sports Philadelphia broadcast Sunday night. “He was tearing up at work. I felt bad. But I started tearing up when I told him. I think I started crying more there when I told him I got the call. Just trying to see it from his reaction made me happy.”
Orion, over the years, spent time with some of Todd’s friends from the Marines. “He sees us,” Todd said. “He hears the stories. He knows some of the mental toughness. And it was nothing that I pushed on him.” Orion was not to address his dad as “sir.” That was too strict.
“He’s got a strong mental toughness,” Todd said. “I’m not going to say it’s because of me. He’s been around a lot of good guys with good mental toughness in his life.”
And, as Todd watched his son look tough on a big-league mound Sunday night, he cried. He wanted Orion to follow his own path. No one would have ever predicted this particular one — from Low A to the majors in six months. Orion has downplayed it all. His father’s words explain why.
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“I’ve never tried to make,” Todd said. “I just tried to show.”
(Photo: Eric Hartline / USA Today)