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Introducing Cliff Lee, who makes first start at Citizens Bank Park today

"[Cliff] Lee would rather cut off his pitching arm than call attention to himself." - Arkansas Democrat-Chronicle, June 8, 2008

Cliff Lee warms up during batting practice before a baseball game against the Giants in San Francisco on July 30. (AP Photo / Jeff Chiu)
Cliff Lee warms up during batting practice before a baseball game against the Giants in San Francisco on July 30. (AP Photo / Jeff Chiu)Read moreASSOCIATED PRESS

"[Cliff] Lee would rather cut off his pitching arm than call attention to himself."

- Arkansas Democrat-Chronicle, June 8, 2008

HE IS relaxed and laid-back. And intensely competitive.

He's a typical Arkansas country guy who loves to hunt and fish. And also enjoys online chess.

He travels all across the country and could afford to live wherever he wants, but returns every offseason to his tiny hometown of Benton, Ark.

He's a private person in a most public profession.

Cliff Lee will be introduced to Philadelphia this afternoon when he makes his first Citizens Bank Park start since being acquired, along with outfielder Ben Francisco, from the Cleveland Indians last week.

Since the Phillies gave up four well-regarded prospects (Carlos Carrasco, Jason Knapp, Lou Marson, Jason Donald) to get him, since he's the pitcher they got instead after days of fevered speculation about Roy Halladay, since he's the reigning American League Cy Young Award-winner, since he spent all of his big-league career in the AL before the deal, since he pitched a complete game in his Phillies debut at San Francisco Friday night, the heightened curiosity about the 30-year-old lefthander is to be expected.

"I'm sure the fans are going to be here," manager Charlie Manuel said last night. "They're going to be excited about it. And that's good."

It's not Lee's style, though, to lay it all out there for you. The same story in his hometown paper that noted his disinclination to seek the spotlight quoted his father, Steve, as giving him some advice while growing up.

"If you showboat what you're doing, you're doing it for the wrong reasons," he said.

To get a sense of the pitcher who figures to play an integral role as the Phillies attempt to defend their world championship, then, it's necessary to piece together the puzzle, bit by bit.

And the best place to start is at the beginning. Or even earlier.

Lee's grandfather, James, was a Navy man who has been described as believing in doing good deeds but not lingering for the thank-yous.

His father, a firefighter, taught him that the self-satisfaction of a job well done is more important than any plaudits that might result.

Sitting in front of his locker before last night's game, Lee appeared vaguely uncomfortable when the subject was raised, and didn't volunteer further details.

"Obviously, everybody's parents and grandparents have a big influence on them," he said. That and nothing more.

Still, partly as a result of his son Jaxon being diagnosed with leukemia - he has since made a full recovery - Lee and his wife, Kristen, have been tireless workers on behalf of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and other charities.

He always had great natural ability, although it was somewhat unharnessed in his early years. When he began playing American Legion ball, he had the good fortune to work with former major leaguer Wes Gardner, another Benton native who came home after his playing days were over.

"Growing up as a kid in small-town Arkansas, there aren't many major league players [from there]. I got to grow up watching him play and basically told myself, 'That's what I want to be when I grow up.' And fortunately I was able to do that," Lee said.

Mark Balisterri has been a baseball coach at Benton High School for 20 years, the last 15 as head coach.

"His sophomore year, he threw the ball all over the place," Balisterri said by phone yesterday. "As a junior, he'd have, like, 13 strikeouts and eight walks in a game. When he was a senior, he had two no-hitters."

By then, Balisterri was getting so many phone calls from scouts that the school principal decided something had to be done.

"He called me into his office and he said, 'We've got to do something. You're being called out of class too much,' " he remembered. "Then he handed me a phone answering machine."

Balisterri installed it in his office and changed the message periodically to let the scouts know when Lee would be pitching next.

Drafted out of high school by the Marlins, Lee decided to attend Meridian Community College. While there, he was drafted by the Orioles, but again decided not to sign and went to the University of Arkansas instead. The coach was Norm DeBriyn, who has since retired.

There since have been stories that Lee clashed with the Razorbacks staff and was demoted to the bullpen as a result. As DeBriyn tells it, his still-developing command made him more suited to a relief role at that point.

"He came in and blew people away," the coach said during a phone conversation.

Even then, though, he noticed Lee's private side.

"He was pretty much to himself," DeBriyn said. Last year, Arkansas honored Lee at halftime of its football game against LSU. After that, they went duck hunting together.

"We talked about his changeup and how it was really coming along, but he really didn't say much," the coach said. "It's just really hard to get a word out of him. But he's always had that fire, that competitive nature when he's on the mound."

His agent, Darek Braunecker, did not return a phone call yesterday. But in a story published last November in the Cleveland Plain Dealer, he described Lee as having "an edge to him - even in high school" and mentioned his "renegade personality." He said that Lee "would fight at the drop of a hat" and that there were "a couple of incidents" at Arkansas.

In the Democrat-Gazette story, his father was quoted saying that "he don't put up with much nonsense" and that the role of his mother was "trying to raise a stubborn sucker."

Lee leaned back in his chair. A trace of a smile crossed his face. Or maybe it was just a figment of the imagination.

"I feel like I'm a little more quiet and low-key now than I used to be," he said. "I used to be a lot more intense, a little more crazy, you could say. Now I'm more laid-back and relaxed."

Last spring, Lee was offered a chance to fly in an F-16 jet during spring training. Afterward, Air Force Major Dan "Dutch" Munter told the Plain Dealer: "He's a natural. He didn't throw up." Apparently, about 95 percent of those who take their first flight do.

Last October, Cliff Lee Day was held in Benton. His American Legion and high school jerseys were retired. A 28-foot banner featuring was hung from the front of Benton Panther Field.

It was the spotlight, but it's also home. And that makes a difference.

"It's basically who I am," he said. "There's no other way to put it. Where you grow up and what you do your whole life makes you who you are. So that really hasn't changed because I play major league baseball. I'm still the same person. I've still got the same hobbies and all the same stuff.

"Obviously, I have to leave half the year and go do this. But I enjoy it. I enjoy playing baseball and I enjoy being home and the peace, out of the big cities. Lower key, slower life, you know?

"By the time I get worn down from the season and finally go home, and by the time I get tired of that, it's time to do something else. So it's kind of a perfect mix.

"It keeps you grounded. I think that's probably the case for most guys. You get caught up in this; you do this for a while, and then you get a chance to exhale when you go home. You get back to your normal life, whatever it may be."

When Benton High School won its first state baseball championship in school history last year, Balisterri said, Lee was quick to call to see whether there was anything he could do.

"He's really a very humble person," Balisterri said. "He's not a guy who likes a lot of glamour. When he comes home, he's just Cliff Lee. He doesn't act any differently than he did when he was here."

Even in Benton, though, there are limits. The city wanted to have a parade to honor him. That was a little too much.

Instead, he agreed to be part of the Christmas parade, riding an open convertible through the crisp December air. *