Bronson's pitch

CALABASAS, Calif. -- In a recording studio high above Mulholland Drive, Bronson Arroyo was settling into the vocal booth. The lanky 27-year-old, best known for his pitching prowess during the Red Sox' drive to a world championship, ran his hands through his boyish blond curls. His demeanor, calm and confident, was not unlike his approach on the pitching mound.

Arroyo will be back on the mound tonight, against the Toronto Blue Jays in his first scheduled start of the season. But in January, on a soggy day in the San Fernando Valley, Arroyo was starting an altogether different project. A budding singer, he was recording an album of covers, aptly titled ''Covering the Bases," scheduled for release July 12.

''Am I coming in too fast on the chorus?" Arroyo asked. His bandmates reassured him. Arroyo was relieved.

''I could envision two scenarios," he said later, with a self-deprecating laugh. ''The first being that I come in and these guys are unbelievable pros and they're playing and they think, 'Who is this punk baseball player? He's singing off-key -- he's killing us here!' "

And the other scenario? ''The exact opposite."

Spending his off-season becoming baseball's answer to ''American Idol" was not on the right-hander's agenda. Sure, fellow pitcher Curt Schilling was dipping his toe into political waters, and center fielder Johnny Damon was getting married and penning his memoir. But Arroyo had a more humble goal in mind: coming to financial terms with the Sox and avoiding salary arbitration.

Then came an unexpected call.

Producer and Rhode Island native Loren Harriet, who had relocated to Los Angeles and helmed Yankees' outfielder Bernie Williams's album, ''The Journey Within," had heard about Arroyo's habit of taking a guitar on the road and serenading his teammates. Arroyo was driving to his off-season home in Florida with his wife, Aimee, when the phone rang.

''Loren called me and said, 'Tell me what you aspire to do in music,' " Arroyo says. ''I said, 'Honestly, I don't aspire to do much. I just enjoy playing songs on acoustic guitar.' "

Harriet suggested a project. Rather than writing original material, what would Arroyo think of picking some of his favorite songs to sing with studio musicians backing him? Arroyo wouldn't even need to play the guitar.

''A cover album seemed an unbelievable way to get my feet wet in the business and have a good time," Arroyo says. ''It would also be less time-consuming, so I said, 'Let's do it.' "

Harriet knew that time is valuable during the off-season, so he devised a plan. He'd assemble a team of crack musicians with the goal of recording three songs a day during a four-day session at Castle Oaks Recording Studio in this rural enclave north of Los Angeles. Arroyo, meanwhile, scoured his iPod in search of songs that he not only liked, but that he felt comfortable singing.

The pitcher settled on 12 alternative rock songs, including Stone Temple Pilots' ''Plush," Pearl Jam's ''Black," and the Foo Fighters' ''Everlong." At the producer's suggestion, he also included the Standells' anthemic ''Dirty Water." All told, it was an intimidating proposition for someone with no recording experience. Then again, this is the same guy who faced down Alex Rodriguez after plunking him with a fastball, resulting in a brawl many saw as a turning point in the Red Sox' historic season.

(As it turned out, some of his teammates were game for a little recording time as well. During spring training in Fort Myers, Fla., Damon, Kevin Youkilis, and Lenny DiNardo lent their undeniably enthusiastic, if not always melodic, backing vocals to ''Dirty Water.")

When Harriet had promised a stellar band, he wasn't kidding. On bass would be Leland Sklar, a veteran of more than 20 years on tour with James Taylor and with more than 200 studio credits to his name. Michael Landau, a studio heavyweight who has appeared on albums by Dolly Parton and Ray Charles, would play guitar. On drums would be Kenny Aronoff, a 15-year member of John Mellencamp's band and who has played on records by Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones and toured with the Smashing Pumpkins.

Having one of Arroyo's idols, former Alice in Chains bassist Mike Inez, play on the session's first track furthered the singer's confidence, which seemed to grow with each take. The musicians found it easy to offer encouragement.

''His pitch is good -- and that's not a pun," Sklar says at the studio. ''His feel is good. I watched him in the booth and he's enjoying it."

Aronoff agrees, but not without conceding that Arroyo wasn't the only one who'd been nervous about the sessions.

''I didn't worry, but I was sure hoping he could sing good," the drummer says. ''First song, I couldn't believe it. He had the feel, he had the sound, he had great intonation, and a great sense of rhythm. I knew he had the groove, and that you've either got or you don't."

Ensconced in the vocal booth, Arroyo proved himself an eager pupil. He took careful notes on the music stand in front of him and inquired about both tone and time. The chance to learn from these veterans was not lost on him.

''I probably feel like I know as much as I should about pitching and how to get people out and 10 years from now I'll look back and have learned a ton of stuff," Arroyo says. ''I'm playing with guys like Curt Schilling and Pedro Martinez [now of the Mets], who are like the baseball equivalents of Kenny Aronoff and Leland Sklar. Anything these guys are going to say to me musically, I'm going to listen to."

Between takes, the group bonded. Arroyo and Aronoff tossed a baseball back and forth in the studio parking lot while guitar parts were being recorded. Over Chinese and Italian takeout they talked about the similarities between life as a baseball player and as a musician -- the travel, the unsupervised times, the fans. The key to success in both, they agreed, is staying focused.

''You can go out in all these cities and go completely nuts," Aronoff points out. ''It takes a lot of discipline to be on your own with the boys, having a blast, and get up the next day and perform."

Among the toughest lessons Arroyo learned was how tough it is to be in the studio. For all the work he puts into physical conditioning, he discovered that singing was taxing in its own way.

''People make it look easy," Arroyo says. ''But singing for a full day is a battle. Your heart's pumping, you're trying to get oxygen, your rib cage is going in and out and you're straining to hit high notes. At the end of the day I am drained like I just finished practice at spring training with a bunch of sprints."

As with pitching, Arroyo hopes his hard work as a singer pays off.

''Honestly what I want is to be able to sit in my car, put in a CD, and listen to myself with these unbelievable musicians and think, 'Wow, that's a good album,' " he says. ''If people buy it and listen and think Bronson Arroyo can sing a little bit, and I gain a little credibility, that, for me, would be fantastic."