Pitching-machine pioneer Ponza dies:
Inventions put Glenwood native in Baseball Hall of Fame
By BRIAN SEALS
SENTINEL STAFF WRITER
SANTA CRUZ — Lorenzo "Larry" J. Ponza Jr.’s mug won’t be found on any baseball cards. Perhaps only the most rabid fans of America’s favorite pastime know his name.

But the inventions of the man born in the Glenwood area of Santa Cruz County landed him in the Baseball Hall of Fame, and have nurtured the careers of some of the game’s greats.

Ponza, the inventor of what many consider the modern pitching machine, died Wednesday at this home. He was 86.

Maybe his name wasn’t well-known, but just about any kid who ever played Little League or high school baseball or softball probably stepped into a batting cage to hit a ball hurled by one of his machines.

He acquired eight baseball-product patents, and in 1952 developed the "Power Pitcher," the first modern pitching machine. The invention was considered the prototype for pitching machines he and others developed. The original sits in the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y. Ponza was inducted as an honorary member.

Among his other inventions were the Port-O-Pitch in 1960, the Casey in 1983, the Ponza Swing King in 1987 and the Rookie in 1988.

"He’d no sooner get one developed than he’d have a new idea," said nephew Jim Duimstra of Santa Cruz. "It was ongoing."

But it’s his 1974 rendition of a pitching machine that he called "The Hummer" that became the quintessential batting-practice tool. It featured two spinning plates situated in a "V" position. Balls placed into the "V" whiz out and can mimic fastballs, slow-pitch softball hurls as well as ground balls and pop flies.

"His lifelong passion was inventing things," said his nephew, Santa Cruz lawyer Larry Duimstra.

Many of his inventions are used by Major League Baseball teams today, said Gene Grant, president of Athletic Training Equipment Training Co. in Sparks, Nev., which bought Ponza’s company in the early 1990s.

"He was a pioneer in our industry," Grant said. "He is going to continue to have a lasting impact."

Ponza grew up on a combination farm, vineyard and sawmill begun by his immigrant parents. He graduated from Santa Cruz High School in 1934. He liked to tell people he graduated from the University of HK&E — the University of Hard Knocks and Experience.

After high school, he worked in the engineering field locally and at Mare Island. He moved to Pearl Harbor in 1941 and worked as a senior civilian supervisor for the Navy’s Production Control Office. In 1949, he received a letter of commendation from the commander of the U.S. Naval Air Division honoring his performance.

Returning to Santa Cruz, he began inventing. Eventually, he would have a shop on Post Street where much of his work was done.

Not only could he could conceptualize, he would sketch his ideas and tool up the machinery needed to do the job in his shop.

"He would make his own screws if he couldn’t find the one he wanted," Larry Duimstra said. "He was always tinkering with something."

People with ideas of their own would stop by to bounce them off Ponza. And the visitors would talk topics of the day.

"He had a story for everybody," Jim Duimstra said. "He would always be the life of the party because no matter what the subject was, he knew something about it."

Baseball-related innovations were his hallmark, but he was always thinking of a new idea. After the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, he conceived an idea for contraption to shut off natural gas lines when the earth began to shake, for example.

He didn’t seek recognition for his inventions, but gained it aplenty. The wall of his shop displayed mementos that included photos of baseball great Ken Griffey Jr., future Hall-of-Famer Mark McGwire and former manager Jim Lefebvre. He also had a bat autographed by legendary Japanese slugger Sadaharu Oh.

Though an avowed bachelor, Ponza enjoyed entertaining visitors and telling stories, Duimstra said.

"You think you’re going to make enough money to settle down, but when you’re an inventor you gamble, and gamble and gamble on new ideas," he told the Sentinel in 1997. "You always want to make money and be independent, but the years go by and you look around ..."