Chance of a lifetime: Bowman’s Jamie Aimar prepares to further baseball career in Israel

By BRIAN LINDER, T&D Sports Writer

It’s not about the money. Athletes say it all the time and mean it none of the time. But when Jamie Aimar says it – when he looks you in your eyes and in his Southern drawl tells you so - you can’t help but believe.

It’s not about the money. It never has been about the money. It never will be about the money. If you knew anything about Aimar – if you knew where he came from and where he is about to go – you would know all of that.

You would know he is a soft-spoken kid from Bowman who likes to hunt and fish, and lists “Friday Night Lights,” “61” and “8 Seconds” as his favorite movies. He’s a kid who fell in love with baseball at the age of 5, and at 24, is not ready to give it up. If you really knew him, you would know that even if he walked away from the game tomorrow, he would have had the career that many baseball players could only dream of. In high school, Aimar led Bowman Academy to three straight Class A SCISAA state titles. In college, at Claflin University, he was a team captain who ended his career with a grand slam in his final at-bat. Jamie batted for his carer .437, and hit 17 homeruns his senior season.

It would’ve been a good way to go out for anyone ... anyone except Jamie Aimar. He couldn’t give it up. It was in his blood so he hung around. This past year, he served as a volunteer assistant coach for Brad Riddle at Claflin. He coached, he cheered and he kept coming in to hit in the batting cage. He stayed in the weight room. He kept practicing like he was a player and Riddle noticed.

A former prospect in the Atlanta Braves organization, Riddle wanted Aimar to have a chance. He helped him get a tryout in front of six Frontier League – an independent professional league – teams in Chicago. Aimar went and came back emptyhanded. Then, there was the Coastal League, a new independent professional league based in the Southeast. Aimar got a tryout with that circuit in Atlanta ... and he came home emptyhanded.

It was tough, and it would’ve been easy to hang up the spikes and walk away. But, Aimar kept looking to get a foot in the door. He wanted to prove he could play, and Riddle kept wanting to help. So, the coach connected Aimar with the Dan Duquette Baseball Academy in Massachusetts. Riddle had served there as a coach, and Aimar got the same opportunity – working with kids of all ages – over a week-long camp. It also allowed him to get to know Duquette, the former general manager of the Boston Red Sox. Duquette was helping put together a new professional league, and he asked Aimar to try out.

Wednesday, Aimar was at Mirmow Field in Orangeburg in the batting cage, preparing for his first season as a professional player.

His friend Ryan Steen would flip balls to him, and Aimar would let his hands go – rolling his wrists and turning his black Nike batting gloves into a blur – flicking the wooden black barrel of his bat forward.

Outside of the cage, his father, Jimmie Aimar, and Riddle looked on. Every now and then, when Jamie would get into one good – sending a ball zipping into the net – Jimmie would pipe up with a, “Yeah Jamie, that’s it, son.”

It was hot, but Aimar swang, and he swang and he swang. He’d stop only for a second to reposition himself in the deep rut in the batter’s box that he no doubt helped create. He’d swing, follow through and then settle back into his stance and wait on another pitch.

Swoosh, crack! Swoosh, crack!

Everytime he connected, the screeching of the birds that nest in the old overhang at Mirmow was drowned out instantaneously. It was a repetitive and seemingly never-ending process. Only when the white bucket of baseballs in the cage was emptied was there any type of real break in action, and even then, it was just long enough to fill the bucket back up. Then it all began again.

Swoosh, crack! Swoosh, crack!

Aimar’s a pro. It’s not about the money. And, if you need proof, know that he has already signed his contract. It will pay him just $2,400 over a 10-week season. Aimar’s contract is with the IBL. That’s the Israel Baseball League. As in, Aimar will be playing in the Holy Land – where baseball is viewed as a bunch of guys just standing around.

He will be playing where it’s estimated that just 3,000 of the country’s 6,352,117 people participate in the game. He will wear the uniform of the Modi’in Miracle, Bet Shemesh Blue Sox, Netanya Tigers, Petach Tikya Pioneers, Tel Aviv Lightning or the Ra’anana Express.

And, although the United States and Israel are on very good terms, he will be playing in a part of the world where Americans are not always welcomed. He doesn’t worry about that. “I’m not really nervous about this,” Aimar said. “I just want to go over there and play ball. Probably, deep down inside, when it comes time for me to get on the flight, it will probably set in. But, I think I will be alright.

“My next-door neighbor is from Israel,“ he continued. ”He says it is just like over here. He said it’s modern ... just, everyone carries a gun.”

Aimar tries to keep his blinders on when it comes to thinking about going so far away. For the kid who swears that he “eats, drinks and sleeps” baseball, this is the chance of a lifetime. He’s going to Israel because it’s his way back into the game, and hopefully it’s his way to a higher level.

And, he’s going to make history as one of the first players in Israel’s first-ever professional baseball league. The league is pioneering, led into uncharted waters by big names such as Duquette, the league’s Director of Baseball Operations. Marvin Goldklang, a minority owner of the New York Yankees and principal owner of four minor league teams including the Charleston Riverdogs, sits on the Executive Committee, and Bud Selig and Randy Levine, the president of the Yankees, sit on the league’s board.

Aimar’s foot is in the door, and tonight at 8 p.m. he will find out exactly where he will go. The IBL draft can be viewed online at www.israelbaseballleague.com. Aimar will be at home in Bowman with his family. They will cook, maybe invite a few friends over and they will huddle around the computer.

This is the chance of a lifetime.

“I think this is going to be great,” he said. “I want to get over there and play ball, and show that I am as good as everyone else. I just want the chance.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it, but we are going down in the history books.”