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What's it like to play an entire season on the road?

There is no sport more entwined with the very idea of the home team than baseball. We even stand in the 7th inning to sing our devotion to the home team in Take Me Out to the Ballgame.
But what happens when a team doesn't have a home stadium and plays every single game on the road?
After the Bluefish left the city of Bridgeport at the end of last season, but before a new team could begin operation in High Point, N.C. next year, the independent Atlantic League was left with only seven teams in what should be an eight-team league. So, with the season fast approaching, they created a team out of thin air in order to help fill the schedule, playing all of its games on the road and having no real home stadium. That team would be called the Road Warriors.

That means no home games, no squadron of loyal fans, no daily routines and no break from the road. 
In fact, that was one of the earliest issues the team faced: How do you even get enough space on the bus when the bus is a traveling house? 
"By the time you take an extraordinary amount of personal luggage, and then personal equipment, we didn't have space on a typical 56-person passenger coach to take all the luggage," Atlantic League president Rick White said. So the team bought a van that would follow the team from city to city, being driven by the Road Warriors coaching staff. 
"We got [the van] on the 12th of April," manager Ellie Rodriguez told MLB.com. "And we got that van with 83 miles on it, brand new. Now it's up to 15,000. That's in the span of four months. … [Coach] Gabe [Suarez] does that, I do that every once in a while. The other coaches like [Jose] Ortega, Julio DePaula we all get a sharing of driving 'The Black Beauty' that we call it."
Unfortunately, the travel had its impact. I went to see the team play the Somerset Patriots at the end of August, and the the team entered the action with a 9-37 record in the second half (like many Minor Leagues, the league splits the season into two halves), without a single player in the top five of any of the traditional statistical leaderboards.

It's not the first time the Atlantic League has pulled out the idea of the Road Warriors. When profit margins are thin, if non-existent, teams can move, change leagues or fold with semi-regularity. The team has played as the Road Warriors in 2006-07 and 2011 before the most recent iteriation. Their mere existence is created with the assistance from the rest of the league as the seven other teams pay for the salaries and travel just so the Atlantic League has a fully functional schedule. 
So how does someone even find players willing to sign up for that: A life of constant cramped quarters to play baseball where you're constantly the heel for low pay on one-year contracts that would be up when the season was over and the Road Warriors disappeared.
That's where Rodriguez stepped in. A former MLB catcher who caught one of Nolan Ryan's no-hitters and a longtime Atlantic League jack of all trades, Rodriguez came out of retirement to manage the club and recruit the roster. 
Surprisingly, it wasn't hard.
"We have a lot of hungry guys in Latin America, especially Puerto Rico," Rodriguez said. Not only was Rodriguez calling players to see if they'd be interested, players were calling him to see if he had a spot on the team.
"The pay is not the same, but these kids really enjoy playing baseball and they really give it a good effort."

That's epitomized in catcher and team prankster Isaac Wenrich.
He wouldn't be playing that night because he fractured his thumb on a sinker that cut instead of sinking, but he was throwing batting practice in the 90-something degree mid-afternoon heat. Afterward, he walked into the dugout, unwrapped the injury and tried to convince Rodriguez to let him get in a few swings before the skipper cautioned him against it.

"This is a travel team," Wenrich said. "These are dudes that want to have a jersey on their back and have a chance to be seen and play the game that they love."
An indy league veteran at this point, Wenrich played for the Sonoma Stompers, the team that baseball writers Ben Lindbergh and Sam Miller ran using statistical analysis. He later played alongside Stacy Piagno and Kelsie Whitmore on the Stompers. And he has battled back after suffering a heart attack while giving a baseball lesson -- becoming a viral sensation along the way.

It's combined to give him a pretty unique perspective on the game.
"I think what playing for teams like that is allows you to kind of step back and realize that you're playing a kid's game that you loved growing up," Wenrich said. "The pressure can get to you and the thoughts that obviously I want to get to affiliated ball, I've been blessed to be on these teams. It gives you a new perspective on the whole game of baseball."
For all the platitudes about the love of the game that is often in sports films, it's the players on the Road Warriors that most embody it. 
Like Julio DePaula. The reliver saw big league time with the Twins in 2007 and has since played in almost every baseball-playing country in the world. He's suited up in Mexico, the Dominican Republic, Venezuela and Korea before finding himself riding the bus for the Road Warriors. He's even pulling double duty with the team as a relief pitcher and pitching coach. 

"It's hard because, normally, as a player we have a routine" DePaula said. "I have to come earlier and I have to let the other pitchers know, 'I have a bullpen today. I'm pitching, too. I need you to come in early with me.'"
That's where life at the edges can be difficult. Getting in to town at 5:30 a.m. is not uncommon. Nor is having a hotel not quite up to snuff. If you've ever hated dragging a suitcase around for a few days, imagine how DePaula feels. His least favorite part on the road is "bringing the luggage back and forth to the hotel and the stadium." Well, that and missing out on home cooking. 

There are little parts of the game that an outsider wouldn't realize would make a difference: Like the music played over the stadium speakers. 
"The walkout songs is something that is definitely near and dear to my heart," Wenrich said. "I like the song that I pick. It puts me in a mood. And now you might get the Titanic theme song or something funny like "Barbie Girl." That's fun, but the guys in the home stadiums get their songs. You hear their song as you're out on defense, and you think 'Man, I don't get a song.'"
For all the drawbacks, they still love playing the game and see a kind of beauty in the journey. 
"We've actually been very fortunate, every park we go to we recruit some fans because they respect the journey that we're on," Wenrich said. "We have a huge support system on the road. Yes, it'd be great to play in front of 2,000 fans that are cheering for you, but we'll take the two in the front row that are cheering for us. You find that people care about you. You're kind of lost, you have no home, for people to make us feel at home, is kind of a blessing."

"We have to work it like a family because we have all the time together. We have to know each other. If you have a problem, you have to let us know because that's your family right there," DePaula said. "We are closer [than other teams] because here you see [your teammates] at the stadium, the hotel, the restaurant. Everywhere you go, you see them."
Though the Road Warriors took another loss on Wednesday in front of a crowd that was chanting the "Mortal Kombat" catchphrase "Finish him!", they had $400 earmarked from their kangaroo court for the end of year party. 
That came following a 13-5 loss to the Lancaster Barnstormers in mid-September. Their final full season record: 29-97. 

Next year, there won't be a Road Warriors. And the players and coaches for the team will either filter away to other, more traditional teams. Maybe one or two will get a chance to latch on in the low Minors for an affiliated club. And some will see their baseball careers end, their last professional days ending on the road.
"I call them my sons," Rodriguez said. "I was telling them, 'Sons, at Christmas time, you guys are going to be sitting down and you're going to be remembering the Atlantic League, the Road Warriors. You're gonna miss it, you guys are gonna miss it. We're having a good time and the best is yet to come." 
He added that the entire club was close as family, stuck to each other with gorilla glue. 
Wenrich yelled from the end of the dugout with his suggestion of something even stronger. "No. Road glue." 

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