
With his red hair, freckles, All-American smile and Midwestern values, Aaron Cook could be Richie Cunningham reincarnated.
Except on the days he pitches. When he takes the mound, his “Happy Days” persona disappears.
“It’s like I let loose the animal in me or something,” Cook said.
Mix that mind-set with one of the best sinkers in the game and a mid-90s four-seam fastball and it helps explain why the Rockies’ 29-year-old right-hander will pitch in the All-Star Game on Tuesday night at Yankee Stadium.
“One of the best things about Aaron is that he’s almost always happy,” teammate Brad Hawpe said. “Whether we’re at the ballpark or out deer hunting, he’s easy to be around, always positive. He realizes he’s a fortunate man.”
But don’t mess with Cook on the day he pitches. Connected only to his iPod and his inner self, he shuts out the outside world.
“On days when he doesn’t pitch, Aaron is very carefree,” Rockies pitching coach Bob Apodaca said. “But he’s very serious one day out of five. Very serious.”
To fully understand Cook’s yin and yang, you must return to Hamilton, Ohio — a small blue-collar city of about 60,000 in the southwestern part of the state. That’s where Cook’s father, Garry, a worker in the local paper mill, taught Cook how to play baseball. That’s where Cook and Curtus Moak met, beginning a lifelong friendship based on baseball, fishing and, most of all, their Christianity.
Hamilton is where Cook met his wife, Holly. It’s where he caught catfish in the Great Miami River. It’s where he developed the inner strength that fortified him in 2004 when he developed blood clots in both lungs and nearly died on the mound at Coors Field. It’s where he learned it was good to be Mr. Nice Guy most of the time, but OK to turn loose the animal on game day.
“Aaron is competitive by nature, be it fishing, hunting or card-playing,” said Moak, who won two state baseball titles with Cook at Hamilton High. “In the summertime, we used to play home run derby in the batting cage. Anything we could compete in, we’d compete in.”
It was in 2001, pitching for High-A Salem in the Carolina League, when Cook began mastering the heavy sinker, which opened the door to the big leagues. But it was as a Midwestern kid that Cook started dreaming.
“I always wanted to be a major-leaguer. That’s all I ever wanted to do,” he said.
In the eighth grade, Cook and his classmates were told to fill out a questionnaire on what they wanted to do when they grew up. There were spaces . . . Cook needed just one.
“I wrote down that I wanted to be a professional baseball player,” Cook recalled. “My teacher didn’t understand. She said, ‘You can’t do that, you have to do something serious.’ I said, ‘I want to be a professional baseball player.’ ”
For the quiet and respectful Cook, it was a defining moment and an early peek at the animal inside.
It was at about the same time that Garry Cook knew his son was more than just a good Little League pitcher. Garry worked the swing shift at the plant in large part so he could help coach his son’s baseball team.
“He was always there for me,” Aaron said. “He never missed a tournament or anything until I was 16. He helped me chase my dreams.”
Solid inner strength
By the time Cook was a teenager, he could already throw in the low 80s, but it was Cook’s demeanor that his father found extraordinary.
Pitching in the national AAU tournament in Des Moines, Iowa, Cook was one out away from defeating the New England Mariners, a national powerhouse and tournament favorite.
“It was the last inning and they had the tying run on third and a runner on first with two outs,” Garry Cook said. “Aaron motioned for me to come out to the mound. Keep in mind, he was just 13. I thought he wanted me to take him out. Instead, he said, ‘I just need a minute here to calm down.’ On the way back to the dugout, I thought, ‘He’s actually got a chance to do something big with baseball.’ ”
Cook struck out the next batter and the kids from Ohio upset the powerhouse from New England.
Life in Hamilton wasn’t perfect. Cook’s parents divorced when he was 15, and his mom, Veronica, was soon gone from his life.
“I’m sure it affects every kid, but Aaron found ways to deal with it through sports and church and the friends that he ran with,” his father said.
Cook and Moak competed against each other in Little League before becoming best friends the summer before their sophomore year at Hamilton High. Because Cook’s house was far out of town, he often spent the night at Moak’s house.
“We’d sleep in these bunk beds and we’d talk for hours,” Moak recalled. “We became like brothers. My mom became his second mom.”
They shared a love of baseball — Moak played at the University of Cincinnati, was drafted in the 25th round by the Reds and played four years in the minors. But the root of their friendship was their Christian faith, something that shaped them in high school and has served them since.
“Aaron is connected to something bigger than himself,” Moak said. “Every day, that helps him check himself. For Aaron, I think, it’s about leaning on somebody who knows a lot more than him. I’m not talking about a friend, I’m talking about God.”
Health issue forces changes
By the time the Rockies drafted Cook in the second round of the 1997 draft, the 18-year-old owned a plus-90 mph fastball and showed terrific control. He was, however, far from an overnight sensation. He spent six seasons in the minors before making his big-league debut on Aug. 10, 2002, as a reliever. The first batter he faced was the Cubs’ Moises Alou, who launched an 0-2 pitch for a homer.
In late summer 2004, Cook was pitching the best baseball of his budding career. During a five-start stretch, he hurled a complete game and went 3-1 with a 1.96 ERA. But on Aug. 7 vs. Cincinnati at Coors Field, he was forced from the game in the third inning because of dizziness and shortness of breath. He was rushed to Rose Medical Center, where doctors told him he was lucky to be alive.
Cook underwent two surgeries and doctors removed part of his top rib to correct the problem that was causing blood clots. He didn’t return to a major-league mound for nearly a year. When he did, his faith was stronger than ever, and he’d become a better pitcher.
“I think that changed him,” Apodaca said. “Any success he is getting now is the result of pure hard work. Before, I think he did rely on pure ability. I think that’s why we would scratch our head and wonder, what kind of pitcher would he be? Now we don’t have to wonder any more. He’s shown us.”
During the offseason, the Rockies signed Cook to a four-year, $34 million contract extension, even though he had never won more than nine games in a season. He’s responded with an all-star season.
Through it all, Cook has remained true to his Midwestern roots.
“I’ve been really impressed with how much he has not changed,” Moak said. “I played high-A ball in the minors and I saw how success changes guys. Sure, his lifestyle’s different and life in Colorado has made it more difficult to connect. But the fact that we are still close tells you something about him. When he comes home, we still go fishing, only now we take our kids.”
Patrick Saunders: 303-954-1428 or psaunders@denverpost.com



