UNLV athlete gets a harsh reality check

Friday, Feb. 9, 2007 | 7:11 a.m.

By Rob Miech Las Vegas Sun

What: UNLV vs. Cal State Fullerton

Where: Earl E. Wilson Stadium, UNLV

When: 6:30 p.m. today , 2 p.m. Saturday and 1 p.m. Sunday

Tickets: $7; unlvtickets.com

Paper or plastic?

All his life, all Calvin Beamon worried about was hitting or bunting, rounding third base or staying, throwing to the cut-off man or home plate.

The UNLV senior right fielder and leadoff hitter owns national championship rings from his stints at the University of Texas and the Community College of Southern Nevada. During a reality check in the summer of 2005, those dreamy title days were shelved.

At a Smith's market in Summerlin, where Beamon bagged groceries. Paper or plastic? Eggs on the bottom. Yes ma'am. Bread on top. Double-bag the milk and six packs.

The most humbling experience of his life, he says. Beamon obtained the position two weeks after he and girlfriend Krissy Diaz moved from Austin, Texas, to Southern Nevada. It was Beamon's first job.

He now manages the front end of the store on weekends and works as a cashier during weeknights. Forty hours a week in the offseason, 20 during the season.

"It was always baseball," Diaz says. "But he just worked his way up. He's such a personable guy. People at work love him."

Barely paying the bills a year ago for Diaz and their infant son, Kairon, Beamon bemoaned the NCAA's denial of his eligibility appeal at UNLV and his parents' pending divorce, the trauma of which almost kept younger brother Sean from graduating high school in Colorado.

Soon enough, however, people who were facing bigger challenges by life's curve balls were filing through Beamon's line at Smith's. Soon enough, the minimum-wage gig became invaluable.

"It made me realize how blessed I really am," he says. "Being able to work my way up through that has given me a sense of confidence, knowing I can make it in the real world. I've had to become a man in a relatively short amount of time. I'm still, like, figuring it out.

"I'm only 22. I feel like I'm older, in a lot of ways. I feel 27."

Beamon helped his high school team in Aurora, Colo., win a state title. But he made many friends while in CCSN coach Tim Chambers' tight program, so it was practical to leave Texas for UNLV and the "security blanket" of the Las Vegas area.

Finishing his collegiate career in Southern Nevada is a big deal to Beamon.

"Vegas, where it all started," he says. "It's my last shot to fulfill my dream."

UNLV coach Buddy Gouldsmith opened his arms, and program, to Beamon the way Chambers did, and Beamon calls both second fathers.

"I had to go where I had a security blanket, where I could have some people to reach out to if I needed to," Beamon says. "I felt like Las Vegas is where I could do that."

Beamon will graduate in May with a degree in university studies. He will marry Diaz when his future is clearer. He feels like he's ahead of the game, as if he has obtained more skills and is a lot more mature than his peers.

He lives in a Summerlin apartment to keep his two lives separate. In one, he tends to his family and provides for it at the store. In the other, he chases a dream.

"I get to see the real world," Beamon says, "and come to the fantasy land of college baseball."

Diaz believes he misses out on many outings and bonding events with his teammates, that he sometimes feels left out of the jock loop.

"Then he comes home and sees his son," she says, "and everything is OK."

Beamon believes 15-month-old Kairon, like him, is a lefty. The tyke is just getting his balance and bearings, and confidence, to run. Last week, after awaking in pop's arms, Kairon sauntered to the television set and turned it on for the first time.

Might be a bad thing, Beamon says, but he's "just amazed by it."

The mother amazes the father just as much. Diaz, 27, was first attracted to Beamon's smile when a mutual friend set them up. Beamon said he would be lost without her support.

In Austin, Diaz had been promoted at the children's shelter where she worked and had planned to pursue a master's degree in psychology. Her commitment and faith in Beamon fuel him.

Diaz returns that credit, saying a lot of 20-year-olds wouldn't have "stepped up to the plate" the way Beamon did when she became pregnant and that he's a wonderful father, working every second he's not in school or on the diamond. This is his dream, she says, that's why we're here.

"I know it will all be worth it in the end," Diaz says. "I didn't want him to regret not following through with baseball for his entire life."