Wake’s Craig Overshadowed No More

WINSTON-SALEM, N.C.—The names haven’t changed. They’re the same ones Will Craig has known since his elementary school days, the same faces he used to see on the field in travel ball. In high school, too.

Craig, Wake Forest’s two-way junior star, can’t help but look at the stats sometimes. He loves numbers. He’ll pull up the national leaderboards and see Nick Senzel—considered one of, if not the, best hitter in this year’s draft class—near the top of most categories. It’s the same Nick Senzel that Craig has played against since he was 8 years old.

Other times, Craig will check out a mock draft—yes, he pays attention to those things—and he’ll smile as he sees Senzel’s name or Dakota Hudson or Jordan Sheffield or Wil Crowe among the draft’s top projected picks. All of them are off playing for Southeastern Conference schools now, but Craig remembers competing against them throughout his youth, growing up in northeast Tennessee. Craig played baseball at Science Hill High in Johnson City. The rest of them were scattered across the state.

“It’s been a great class for Tennessee—the graduating class of 2013,” Craig said. “Our class was probably one of the strongest classes in Tennessee history.”

He isn’t surprised to see his fellow Tennesseans enjoying the kind of success they’ve had in college; he said he’s excited they’re getting draft attention. They deserve it. These days, though, there is a new name among them that Craig isn’t accustomed to seeing, a name that hasn’t always carried quite the same weight in baseball circles that it does right now.

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That name is his.

Now, “Will Craig” is right there with Senzel in the national leaderboards. “Will Craig” is just as prominent as those other names in mock drafts. Where did Will Craig come from?

For two springs, Craig statistically has been among the top hitters in the entire country while also serving as a late-inning reliever and occasional starting pitcher. Last season the first baseman was the ACC’s player of the year, batting .382/.496/.702 with 13 home runs and 58 RBIs in 191 at-bats. Through 146 at-bats this spring, he’s been even better, batting .411/.551/.822 with 15 home runs and 62 RBIs while sliding across the diamond to third base.

Yet, three years ago, when Senzel went off to play at Tennessee, Sheffield to Vanderbilt, Hudson to Mississippi State and Crowe to South Carolina, Craig was staring at only three college offers of his own: Georgia Southern, Samford and Wake Forest. Of those three schools, two of them wanted him, first and foremost, as a pitcher.

As strange as it might seem now, coming out of high school no one wanted Will Craig—now one of the best hitters in college baseball—to pick up a bat.

“I was a bigger kid out of high school, and I had a good arm, and everyone thought my bat wouldn’t translate because northeast Tennessee is not as strong with pitching,” Craig said. “But I was 88 to 91-92 (mph), and they were like, ‘Oh yeah, he could probably add a couple of miles per hour if he gets bigger and stronger. He didn’t face very good pitching, so he probably won’t hit at the next level.’”

All Craig wanted was an opportunity—a chance to prove to the rest of the baseball world what he himself believed, that he was a hitter, that he belonged just as much as any of those other highly sought-after names in Tennessee.

“(Wake Forest) was the only school that wanted me to hit,” Craig said, “I felt like my calling at the time was going to be hitting.

“And luckily I’ve been kind of right, I feel like.”

More than “kind of.”

Finding Craig

Detroit Tigers lefthander Daniel Norris is widely regarded as one of the more talented young lefties in the game. Even still, he might be better known in the mainstream for the 1978 Volkswagen camper van he lives in, sleeps in and eats in.

Craig has never been inside that van. When he and Norris went to high school together at Science Hill, Norris still had “a normal-person car.” He drove a 2000’s Toyota Sequoia, and he’d often give Craig rides to practice and games because his younger teammate wasn’t yet old enough to drive.

In a way, Norris was also Craig’s chaperone to Wake Forest. Johnson City, Tenn., where Norris and Craig grew up, typically isn’t heavily recruited. But it’s hard to overlook a high school lefthander who throws in the mid-90s. Word got out. Craig remembers a start Norris made his junior year, with the stands full of college recruiters. Craig, a freshman, played third and came out of the bullpen behind Norris. Colleges got their first look at Craig that day. Wake Forest was one of them. That one look was enough to spark some curiosity.

“He was kind of a guy we were on for a while just following the progress,” said Wake Forest recruiting coordinator Bill Cilento. “I mean, we liked him on the mound. I wish I could tell you, ‘Hey, we were the geniuses who said this guy is going to be who he is today.’

“But one of the things we look for with our ballpark is physical kids. It’s what we look for, and the one thing he could do was hit the ball out of the yard.”

The word “physical,” for Craig might be an understatement. At 6-foot-3, 235 pounds, Craig is an imposing force who stands out on a baseball field. His thick frame and the power it provides are a perfect match for the hitter-friendly confines of David F. Couch Ballpark in Winston-Salem. He’s hit 36 home runs in three college seasons. But beyond sheer power, what makes Craig so dangerous as a hitter—and what stood out to Cilento—is his barrel accuracy and strike-zone awareness.

He doesn’t often swing and miss, and he doesn’t typically offer at pitches he can’t hit. In 526 career at-bats, he’d struck out 82 times to 101 walks. Craig has had no choice but to be selective, as opposing teams often don’t give the big slugger much to hit. Florida State head coach Mike Martin joked before a series at Wake Forest this year that Craig wouldn’t even need to bring his bat to the ballpark, just a glove.

But more often than not, Craig finds a way to win the battle—even in extreme circumstances. Earlier this spring, Notre Dame tried to intentionally walk him, but the pitcher threw the ball too close to the plate, and Craig turned on it for a sacrifice fly near the left-field wall. He was surprised the left fielder was even paying attention.

“There’s some teams that just go right after me, and usually my first at-bat, I’m kind of awestruck by it,” Craig said. “But then the next few at-bats, I catch on.

“That’s been one thing that’s difficult is seeing how every team’s going to pitch me.”

Most scouts seem to agree that the bat, and especially the power, is real—although his lackluster showing in the Cape Cod League last summer (.230, one home run in 139 at-bats) weighs down his draft stock. Where there’s disagreement—and what could decide whether Craig is picked in the first round or somewhere later—is in the defense and the body. Craig’s coaches and teammates have noted his improvement in the weight room and in the kitchen; he’s fitter and more functionally strong than he was even a year ago.

But Craig admits he’s not the most agile third baseman. He tries to make up for it with his positioning and his arm—he throws in the low-to-mid-90s off the mound and would be a legitimate relief prospect if not for his bat—but he might end up at first base at the pro level.

Cilento said he doesn’t see any reason why Craig couldn’t play third, but he knows those questions are par for the course.

“He’s one of those guys where there’s always been a knock on him,” Cilento said. “’He doesn’t have a position.’ More than anything last year, he put up those numbers and people were like, ‘He plays at Wake Forest. That ballpark’s more conducive to hitting. That’s the power numbers. They’re not real power numbers.’

“And then . . . in the Cape he struggled a little bit, and I think that drove him more.”

Then again, Craig has long been driven by doubt.

Climbing The Mountain

Will Craig was stunned. Knocked off his feet. Humbled.

This was years before Wake Forest. He was a teenager, at his very first practice for the East Cobb Yankees, a prestigious amateur summer baseball program located in Georgia. Casually, confidently, Craig approached his new head coach, James Beavers, to say a simple hello. What Beavers responded with, Craig will never forget.

“You’re not as good as you think you are,” the longtime youth coach told Craig, bluntly. Not the typical “hello.” Not quite “how are you?”

“I was like, ‘What?” Craig said, laughing as he recalled the moment. “That’s the first thing you say to me?’”

But Craig quickly discovered for himself exactly what Beavers meant. As he watched his new teammates take batting practice and hit baseballs just as far as he could, if not farther, he thought, “Oh my God, he’s right.” He realized he was at the foot of the mountain, not the top of it. Ever since, he’s been trying to climb back up.

Beavers and the East Cobb Yankees program have churned out their fair share of Division I regulars and major league prospects over the years, from Dexter Fowler to Stephen Drew. When Craig played for them, the Yankees’ shortstop was none other than Dansby Swanson, the future No. 1 overall pick in the 2015 draft and a national champion at Vanderbilt.

Beavers knows talent when he sees it, and he saw it in Craig—one of the most physically mature, “country strong” players he’s had in 30 years of coaching. But Beavers didn’t want Craig to take those natural gifts for granted. He didn’t want him to get too comfortable just yet. He made sure of that.

“I’ve had enough big leaguers and enough guys that have been picked real high to know they worked a little bit harder than everybody else,” Beavers said. “And they believed in themselves a little bit, and that’s what I was trying to challenge him: ‘There’s more there, buddy. Don’t rely on what you are right now and try to reach for those stars a little bit.’

“I might not have said it in as nice a words.”

He didn’t, but that was OK. He got his message across. From that day forward, Beavers marveled at Craig’s work ethic. During the fall, winter and spring, Craig would drive from Tennessee to East Cobb almost every Sunday, take two or three hours of swings, then hop in his car and drive back to Tennessee—totaling seven or eight hours of driving in a single day. That was unusual, but Craig did it on his own volition, and Beavers loved it. Craig’s blue-collar attitude reminded him of how he was raised.

“You could get on his butt, and he’d be like, ‘Yeah, I gotta get better,’” Beavers said. “You kind of like guys like that.”

It was difficult, too, not to like what Craig did on the baseball field. Beavers and Craig, who remain close and talk often, still reminisce about some of the mammoth shots Craig hit in his East Cobb days—shots he hit with a wood bat. There was the one he hit at the ballpark at College of Charleston, beyond the gravel parking lot behind left field, past the road behind that lot and nearly into the water. There was the one he hit into the subdivision behind East Cobb’s complex. It was the same subdivision where now-former Braves manager Fredi Gonzalez lived. Everyone joked Gonzalez could pick that ball up from his yard in the morning.

Having also scouted for 25 years, Beavers could see holes in Craig’s swing. He had questions with the body, the same ones Craig is facing now. But Beavers also saw a tremendously strong teenager with the chance to become even stronger in a college weight room; he admired Craig’s determination and his calm, steady demeanor. He called college recruiters and tried to pitch Craig to them.

No one would bite. Beavers laughs about it now.

“It’s kind of fun for me now to go back and talk to these coaches and say, ‘You probably should’ve taken a chance on ol’ Willy boy,’” Beavers said. “And they’re like, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

“It’s a proud moment when you can do that.”

New Name On The List

Most nights, he waits until the stadium lights turn off.

Craig doesn’t mind being the last person to leave David F. Couch Ballpark. In the midst of what is likely his final college season, Craig takes the time after games to stare out at the field, at the Winston-Salem night sky, to reflect. This wasn’t the place he always thought he’d be, but he’s glad he’s here now.

After being a relative unknown in northeast Tennessee, Craig has gone to a place where nearly everyone knows his name. Fans and scouts alike flock to Wake Forest games to see him. There’s a different energy in the stands when he steps to the plate—a sense of eager anticipation. “Shh, Craig is up!” you’ll hear fans say, or, simply, “That’s a big boy!” After games, crowds form around him. Fans take pictures with him; kids ask for autographs. One kid recently asked Craig to sign his phone. Not the phone case—the actual phone.

“I looked at his dad, and I was like ‘Are you sure you want me to sign this?’” Craig said, laughing. “And he was like, ‘Yeah, go ahead.’”

Craig is a large reason why the Demon Deacons were in the regional hunt, in position for an at-large bid as long as they finish strong. Craig was batting well over .400, closing games out of the bullpen (2-0, 2.11, six saves), and he’s performed well beyond what any college recruiter ever expected of him. Not even Wake Forest could’ve quite seen this coming.

“We saw glimpses of it,” head coach Tom Walter said. “But there’s certainly no way to figure he would’ve turned into the hitter he did.”

Craig credits Beavers for humbling him, for showing him how hard he needed to work—how hard he continues to work. He credits Walter and the Wake Forest coaching staff for giving him the opportunity to hit and play right away. In a sense, he credits all of the schools who didn’t offer him, who told him his bat wouldn’t translate; he said he loves to prove them wrong.

Craig is reaping the benefits now. The looming draft excites him. He’s not one to lie about it. Spend any amount of time with him, and it quickly becomes apparent that Craig is an open book. His roommates tease him about the draft all the time, all in good fun.

“I’ll always mention something about it,” Craig said, “and then they’re like, ‘We get it, Will. You’re going to be a high pick.’”

But Craig can’t help it. He knows the amount of sweat it took to get to this point—how unlikely it all seemed three years ago, when seemingly everyone in Tennessee’s high school graduating class was receiving college offers except for him.

“It’s exciting. I look at it online, checking other people’s stats, like my buddies, Senzel or any of them. Just seeing our names in the same categories, it is kind of cool, just to see how far I’ve come,” Craig said. “To having no offers in high school to here I am now, possibly going to be a high pick—if everything works out the way God allows it.

“I’m not going to say I don’t have talent, but I had to work a little extra for it to try to earn my spot at third, so it makes me smile.”

Craig smiles for the names he’s always known, and he smiles for the one name he always hoped would get there.