By Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO, Calif.—Baseball agent Marc Kligman's cellphone rang last month while he was walking his dog. The voice on the other end shouted: "We got it! Finally!"

Triple-A catcher Carlos Ruiz had been called up to the major leagues by the Philadelphia Phillies.  He would face the San Francisco Giants on May 6—a Saturday.  

Kligman could not attend that first game because he is Shomer Shabbos (one who does not work on the Sabbath).  "I said I couldn't be there for the debut, but Carlos knows about Shabbos, and kosher, he's a good kid," the San Diego-based sports agent recalled. 

"I flew out the following Monday, and I saw his second game in Philly."  Ruiz singled to right in the second inning against New York Mets pitcher  Pedro Martinez—his first hit in baseball's major leagues. It was hard to tell who was more pleased; the ballplayer or his agent.  "That was a nice thrill," enthused Kligman. "I was like a kid in the candy store."  

Like his sports clients who go from college to the minor leagues and finally onto the big leagues, Kligman has been going through his own step-by-step process.  A ba'al tshuvah, he has been transforming himself into a  highly observant Orthodox Jew.  One could debate whether in his observance, he is now in a Triple-A category or a major leaguer. Judging by his self-critique, he still has not reached what we might call the "starting lineup" of Orthodoxy. 

Besides being a sports agent, Kligman has a private criminal defense practice. In this role,  he does not wear his kippah during court appearances, nor typically when meeting clients. Although he has a beard, he keeps it trimmed, rather than letting it grow, Chabadnik style.  He explains that he worries that defendants may feel "funny" about having someone with a Jewish head covering and full beard representing them.

Previously Kligman had worked in the San Diego public defender's office, so his employer was the government, not a defendant. He could wear a kippah without fear of financial consequences.  Now, however, he worries whether his ability to earn a living and thereby support his wife and three children is in conflict with his desire to be strictly observant.

The beard and the kippah are about the only conflicts left for Kligman to resolve in a process that saw him come from being a little leaguer, then a high school and college baseball player, who routinely played on Shabbos, to an occasional attendee of Friday night dinners at the Chabad house near his law school at Tulane University in New Orleans,  to a person who kept kosher at home, but ate out, to one who eventually  made a decision to maintain kosher at all times...

The process of becoming more observant continues to unfold, with Kligman and his wife, Leah,  often looking for guidance from Rabbi and Rebbetzin Moishe and Sura Leider of Chabad of University City. 

Interviewed in his law office in the Golden Hill section of San Diego, close to downtown,  Kligman explained that working as a local criminal defense lawyer pays his bills as he builds his reputation and client base as a national sports agent.  

As an agent,  he negotiates contracts and endorsements for ballplayers who are on minor and major league  teams throughout North America.  He also refers his clients to financial advisors, trust attorneys and, if needed, to other defense lawyers, and counsels them whenever they might call—except on Shabbos, when he has his phone turned off.  

He said the ballplayers generally are very accepting of his religious beliefs. In fact, he added, some may have gravitated to him because they themselves are strong Christians and feel comfortable with a man of religious values.

Although Kligman has one ballplayer who is Jewish among his clients—minor league pitcher Jason Olson— it is less awkward for him to work with Christian clients because he never feels at cross purposes.  He explained that there is a temptation as an Orthodox Jew—particularly as one who is ba'al tshuvah and who wants to share his spiritual journey —to urge other Jews to become more Shabbos-observant, to keep kosher, and generally to change their lifestyles.  

If a ballplayer were to follow such advice, that would be tantamount to giving up his career. Maybe Sandy Koufax can decline to pitch in the World Series on Yom Kippur, but how could professional baseball utilize the talents of someone who won't play any Friday night or Saturday day game, nor even travel with the team on those days?

Kligman knows of one other Orthodox Jewish agent handling athletes—Paul Cohen, who is based in Los Angeles.  He said Cohen telephoned him one day, saying he had heard about him from the proprietor of a kosher restaurant in Phoenix, Ariz.  Although they are competitors, the longer-established Cohen called to say hello to a fellow Orthodox Jew.  Since then, Kligman said, Cohen has been something of a professional mentor to him.

Being a sports agent has moments of depression and elation, Kligman said.  The downers?  When one of your players decides to sign with another agent, he responded.  That's what happened with Seattle Mariners pitcher Rafael Soriano.  Kligman said he didn't even know Soriano had switched agents until one day he was faxing some material to Upper Deck and was told by the baseball card company that they had just received a notice from another agency that it had just signed Soriano.  

But such lows are compensated by special highs, like that day in 2002 when pitcher Brandon Puffer became Kligman's first minor league client to advance to the big leagues— to the Houston Astros. Kligman flew to Cincinnati to attend the first game, sitting at the ballpark with Puffer's wife, children, and parents. 

With the Astros leading the Cincinnati Reds by a score of 7-2, Puffer was brought to the mound in relief.  He got out the first batter he faced, but then two opposing batters got on base, one of them because a nervous Puffer threw too far inside, hitting him.  Before Barry Larkin could bat for the Reds, Jimy Williams, manager of the Houston Astros,  headed for the mound. "Oh, no," thought Puffer's family and Kligman. "He's going to replace him". But after manager and pitcher chatted for a while, Williams returned to the dugout. Next, Puffer  got Larkin to bounce out to third, and "then, I think, he struck out the next guy," Kligman recalled. His client's first outing was a success!

Celebrating after the game, the family and Kligman gathered around Puffer, who confessed that he also thought that Williams was going to yank him—especially because in spring training the pitchers were told that if pitching coach Vern Ruhle walked to the mound, they'd get to stay in; but if Williams came, they'd be out.  

On this occasion, however, when Williams got to Puffer, he asked if the rookie hurler had anyone special at the park watching his debut.  Puffer said his family and his agent were there.  Next Williams asked if Puffer planned to eat the dinner buffet that was being spread for the team, or whether he planned to go out for dinner.  

The pitcher said he had planned to go out with his guests.  "Okay," said Williams, "get these last couple of outs so you can go out and have a good time."

Kligman laughed, remembering how Puffer told the story.  "Williams did a great job," said the agent.  "He totally disarmed him and got him to relax."

There was a transformation in Kligman's face.  No longer worrying about his kippah, for a moment it was as if he were a kid again on the baseball diamond.