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It was the summer of 1957 when the patriarch of the Coera family made the painful decision that the time had come for his family to flee their beloved homeland of Cuba for the United States. Jose Coera gathered his family (his wife Bonita and their 3 sons Alejandro, Diego and young Juan) and little else, leaving most of their worldly possessions behind.
“We lost just about everything when we left,” explained Juan Coera, “but I don’t remember much about it, I was only 4 years old at the time. Most of my ‘memories’ of that time are hand me down memories from my older brothers or my parents.”
Juan’s father Jose wasn’t an ardent supporter of the Batista government, but he was no supporter of the revolution either.
“It’s not so much that he supported the sitting government,” said Juan, “it was more that he was outspoken about the leaders involved with the revolution. He was no fan of Castro, you know? And when it looked like it was a foregone conclusion that the revolution was going to succeed, my dad knew it was time to get out.”
The Coera clan settled in Miami, FL where young Juan struggled early on trying to fit in. Painfully shy, Juan kept to himself for years in his new homeland, earning the nickname “El Quieto” (the Quiet One) from his classmates. He was easily overshadowed by his two older siblings who excelled in the classroom and on the athletic field.
“Both Alejandro and Diego were great athletes,” said Juan. “Diego was a great pitcher and probably would have made it in pro ball if he hadn’t blown out his elbow his senior year. There were always scouts at his games. He would have been a top draft choice, no doubt.”
The young Coera hesitated to become involved in youth sports in spite of the urging of his parents and brothers.
“He never wanted to leave his room,” said older brother Alejandro. “He was always reading and writing stuff. We didn’t even know if he had any physical ability, because he would never go out and play.”
“Then one day Diego wanted to pitch some live batting practice and the only person around was Juan,” recalled Alejandro. “He forced Juan to go to the ball park with him, just to have someone stand in the box, you know, for a frame of reference. Juan didn’t even know how to hold the bat, he grabbed it crosshanded.”
“That’s right,” said Juan when that day was brought up, “he had to correct my grip. I was about 12 at that point I think. He took it easy on me at first after he taught me the basics of taking a good cut. He was grooving pitches to build up my confidence and I was just putting good wood on the ball, one after another.”
“You could see right away he was a natural,” said older brother Diego. “I started out throwing him some easy stuff down the middle, but soon was trying to put the ball by him and he kept tagging it like it was batting practice. The rest is history. All he does is hit the ball hard.”
Juan’s parents soon signed him up for a local community team and he quickly became a star player and with it his personal confidence skyrocketed. No longer was he the paralyzingly shy child who spent hours on end in his room.
“It really helped me fit in and I started spending more time with other kids my own age,” said Coera. “I grew up so much during those high school years. I almost became overconfident, jumping to pro ball straight out of school. I kicked around in the minor leagues for a few years and then bombed out after the ’74 season. I thought for sure my career was over. I had gotten married by this time and my son Javier was born in ‘72. It didn’t look I was going to be able to provide for them through baseball, so I walked away.”
Coera went to work in a manufacturing plant in an effort to provide a steady income and benefits but baseball was always on his mind.
“When you find something that you really love and that you’re pretty good at, it can hurt to give it up,” said Coera. “You just feel like that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, but things don’t always work out.”
A final career turning point came in ’78 when his young son Javier, now 6 years old, was flipping through old family pictures and saw numerous photos of Juan in various baseball pictures.
He looked up and asked me, “Why don’t you play any more Daddy?” recalled Juan. “It’s hard to explain family responsibilities to a 6 year old and to be honest at that point I didn’t have a good answer.”
As fate would have it Juan soon became aware of the pending revival of the BLB. He began working out again and it was soon obvious that his old baseball skills were still there.
The Philadelphia Freedom popped him in the 30th round of the inaugural talent dispersal draft at the age of 26 and he spent significant time in the big leagues in both ’78 and ’79. He finally got over the hump in 1980 and he’s never looked back.
Coera holds several franchise marks including the most:
-Games Played
-Hits
-Doubles
-Plate Appearances
-At Bats
and is in the top five in just about every major offensive category. He’ll play the majority of the ’88 season as a 36 year old and he knows the end is closer than ever.
“It’s a fact every ballplayer has to face,” Coera said when asked about his future retirement. “It will actually be like a second retirement for me, but I’m hoping to push it off as long as I can. I’m signed through next year for sure and then the team has an option for the 1990 season. All I can do is try my hardest to make sure they want to exercise it.”
For now Coera seems content to just soak in every day, one at a time. Older ballplayers tend to be able to do that a bit better than the young guys.
The 1988 season will start with the fairly durable Coera on the shelf for the first 3 weeks of the season, the result of strained triceps muscle in his throwing arm suffered early on in Spring Training. His teammates and management have no doubt that once healthy he’ll pick right up where he always does, hitting the ball all over the yard.
It was the summer of 1957 when the patriarch of the Coera family made the painful decision that the time had come for his family to flee their beloved homeland of Cuba for the United States. Jose Coera gathered his family (his wife Bonita and their 3 sons Alejandro, Diego and young Juan) and little else, leaving most of their worldly possessions behind.
“We lost just about everything when we left,” explained Juan Coera, “but I don’t remember much about it, I was only 4 years old at the time. Most of my ‘memories’ of that time are hand me down memories from my older brothers or my parents.”
Juan’s father Jose wasn’t an ardent supporter of the Batista government, but he was no supporter of the revolution either.
“It’s not so much that he supported the sitting government,” said Juan, “it was more that he was outspoken about the leaders involved with the revolution. He was no fan of Castro, you know? And when it looked like it was a foregone conclusion that the revolution was going to succeed, my dad knew it was time to get out.”
The Coera clan settled in Miami, FL where young Juan struggled early on trying to fit in. Painfully shy, Juan kept to himself for years in his new homeland, earning the nickname “El Quieto” (the Quiet One) from his classmates. He was easily overshadowed by his two older siblings who excelled in the classroom and on the athletic field.
“Both Alejandro and Diego were great athletes,” said Juan. “Diego was a great pitcher and probably would have made it in pro ball if he hadn’t blown out his elbow his senior year. There were always scouts at his games. He would have been a top draft choice, no doubt.”
The young Coera hesitated to become involved in youth sports in spite of the urging of his parents and brothers.
“He never wanted to leave his room,” said older brother Alejandro. “He was always reading and writing stuff. We didn’t even know if he had any physical ability, because he would never go out and play.”
“Then one day Diego wanted to pitch some live batting practice and the only person around was Juan,” recalled Alejandro. “He forced Juan to go to the ball park with him, just to have someone stand in the box, you know, for a frame of reference. Juan didn’t even know how to hold the bat, he grabbed it crosshanded.”
“That’s right,” said Juan when that day was brought up, “he had to correct my grip. I was about 12 at that point I think. He took it easy on me at first after he taught me the basics of taking a good cut. He was grooving pitches to build up my confidence and I was just putting good wood on the ball, one after another.”
“You could see right away he was a natural,” said older brother Diego. “I started out throwing him some easy stuff down the middle, but soon was trying to put the ball by him and he kept tagging it like it was batting practice. The rest is history. All he does is hit the ball hard.”
Juan’s parents soon signed him up for a local community team and he quickly became a star player and with it his personal confidence skyrocketed. No longer was he the paralyzingly shy child who spent hours on end in his room.
“It really helped me fit in and I started spending more time with other kids my own age,” said Coera. “I grew up so much during those high school years. I almost became overconfident, jumping to pro ball straight out of school. I kicked around in the minor leagues for a few years and then bombed out after the ’74 season. I thought for sure my career was over. I had gotten married by this time and my son Javier was born in ‘72. It didn’t look I was going to be able to provide for them through baseball, so I walked away.”
Coera went to work in a manufacturing plant in an effort to provide a steady income and benefits but baseball was always on his mind.
“When you find something that you really love and that you’re pretty good at, it can hurt to give it up,” said Coera. “You just feel like that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, but things don’t always work out.”
A final career turning point came in ’78 when his young son Javier, now 6 years old, was flipping through old family pictures and saw numerous photos of Juan in various baseball pictures.
He looked up and asked me, “Why don’t you play any more Daddy?” recalled Juan. “It’s hard to explain family responsibilities to a 6 year old and to be honest at that point I didn’t have a good answer.”
As fate would have it Juan soon became aware of the pending revival of the BLB. He began working out again and it was soon obvious that his old baseball skills were still there.
The Philadelphia Freedom popped him in the 30th round of the inaugural talent dispersal draft at the age of 26 and he spent significant time in the big leagues in both ’78 and ’79. He finally got over the hump in 1980 and he’s never looked back.
Coera holds several franchise marks including the most:
-Games Played
-Hits
-Doubles
-Plate Appearances
-At Bats
and is in the top five in just about every major offensive category. He’ll play the majority of the ’88 season as a 36 year old and he knows the end is closer than ever.
“It’s a fact every ballplayer has to face,” Coera said when asked about his future retirement. “It will actually be like a second retirement for me, but I’m hoping to push it off as long as I can. I’m signed through next year for sure and then the team has an option for the 1990 season. All I can do is try my hardest to make sure they want to exercise it.”
For now Coera seems content to just soak in every day, one at a time. Older ballplayers tend to be able to do that a bit better than the young guys.
The 1988 season will start with the fairly durable Coera on the shelf for the first 3 weeks of the season, the result of strained triceps muscle in his throwing arm suffered early on in Spring Training. His teammates and management have no doubt that once healthy he’ll pick right up where he always does, hitting the ball all over the yard.