Author: Larry Dierker

SATURDAY, MARCH 30 ● Arlington, Texas, vs Rangers

Today we were back in the big leagues again. The Rangers’ fine visitors’ clubhouse man, Joe Macko, had an omelet chef working in the lunchroom, alongside a breakfast buffet that would make the Hyatt proud.

The manager’s office was bigger than some of the entire locker rooms in Florida. It came with a fully outfitted desk, with television, a stereo, and a fresh pot of coffee. Around the corner there was a private locker, bathroom, and shower. It made me feel like a king.

That kingly feeling will last only as long as we are winning a fair number of games, and I am satisfied with my performance.

This game worked out well. With the help of walks and errors, we won easily.

It was not a rousing victory, however, as the questions surrounding El Sid were not answered in the affirmative.

The big guy struggled through four innings. He gave up only two runs, but he was still a little wild, and he was not throwing hard.

The Rangers were without three of their best hitters: Rusty Greer, Will Clark, and Juan González. I doubt Sid would have survived a healthy Rangers lineup.

In the third inning, Craig Biggio smashed a single down the third-base line, and he was thrown out trying to stretch it. He ended up jamming his fingers into the bag, and he hit his collarbone on the shin bone of Bill Ripken. Bidge will start the season with a couple of dings; perhaps that will make him feel comfortable.

Billy Spiers aggravated a chronic lower-back injury last night when he made a spectacular diving catch and turned it into a double play. Today he was sore, and I had to play him the entire game.

On the bright side, Gonzo was fine today. He was still a little sore above the elbow, but it didn’t affect his throwing or hitting.

After the game, I was talking to Macko about Garner’s practical joke. He reminded me that the Brewers were opening the season in Arlington. I told him that I was going to leave the postcard on Garner’s desk.

“Don’t move it,” I said. “And if you could, set the clock forward an hour.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile.

Joe is a baseball man, through and through. His son, Steve, was a top infield prospect with the Cubs. Steve had just reached the major-league level when it was discovered that he had testicular cancer.

The story was a sad one for all who knew Joe and Steve, for Steve did not survive. He ended up getting just 60 at-bats and succumbed to the disease at the age of 27 in 1981.

I know it is some consolation to Joe that he is able to continue his life in the world of baseball. You get the impression that he treats every player as if they were his son.

The flight home was uneventful. When we got off the team bus at the Astrodome, television cameras were blazing away, and I was greeted by a bouquet of microphones.     

“What about your starting pitching?” I was asked, before I could even put my bags down. Perhaps I was a little terse when I said, “We’ll have to have starting pitching, that’s for sure. I can’t think of a team that can do without it.”

After that, I asked if I could put my bags down first, and when we resumed, I was more accommodating.

I rode home with Cubby; he and his wife have rented a house near us. The house is owned by Scott and Becky Frederickson. Becky grew up near our first home and babysat for our daughter Julia many times. She really loved baseball, and baseball players.

As it turned out, she met Scott at the University of Texas, and they were married shortly after he started his professional career in the Padres organization. He was selected by the Rockies in the expansion draft, and he has been stuck in AAA for three years. This year, he got his release and an offer to play in Taiwan. That dovetailed perfectly with the Cubbages’ plan.

They have a furnished house, with a yard for Chief, their black Labrador retriever, for about half of what it cost them to live in an apartment in New York last summer. Such a deal.

SATURDAY, MARCH 29 ● El Paso, vs Milwaukee

I finished Beach Music last night. A fine story. Author Pat Conroy is a lot like John Irving: a great storyteller. He can play your emotions like a violin. His imagination seems limitless. He was a little wordy for my taste, but the abundant verbiage didn’t ruin the story. It was a fine diversion that lasted the entire spring.

When I got to the ballpark two hours early, Vern was already there. I had to renew my prescription for the bladder infection that won’t quit; he didn’t have an excuse, other than being excited. I guess the only guy who is more fired up than Vern and me is Tom Martin. Martin was such a long shot to make the team that he has been floating around on air the last few days.

Vern and I went to breakfast at Denny’s. He doesn’t drink, except for an occasional beer. And he gets a pretty good workout at the ballpark each day. Still, he tends to carry a few extra pounds. Now I know why.

When we went to dinner this spring, he wanted Mexican food. At Denny’s, he ordered pancakes, eggs, and sausage. He ate a meal on the plane, and pizza in the clubhouse before the game. Then he ate a couple of enchiladas after the game. He topped it all off with a cheeseburger on the plane ride to Dallas.

I may have to stop calling him The Perfessor and start calling him The Trencherman — naw.

When we got back from breakfast, Martin presented me with a cigar. “This is from Dave Engle,” he said. “He told me you couldn’t smoke it until you got your first win.”

The flight to El Paso, AA home of the Brewers, was uneventful. Most everyone caught a few winks. Milwaukee’s manager, Phil Garner, is a good friend of mine — good enough to put one over on me, and he almost did.

Phil Garner

As we exchanged lineups, he said, “Don’t forget, Daylight Saving Time starts tonight. We have to spring forward. I told all my players already, because we have a day game tomorrow.”

I made a mental note to check with Barry Waters about this. Good thing I did, before I told the team: Daylight Saving Time doesn’t start until April 6. Barry checked his calendar to make sure.

While we were chatting it up around home plate, Garner asked me if we would trade Darryl Kile.

“We would consider it,” I said.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know,” I replied.

“C’mon, don’t play games. You can tell me.”

“It’s your boy.”

“My boy? What are you talking about?”

“About Listach.”

“You’re kidding! He’s not playing well?”

“Other than hitting and fielding, he’s doing pretty well.”

“I’ll be damned,” he said. “I thought he’d really do a job for you if he got to play every day.”

“Well, he still might,” I said. “We’re not in a panic mode yet.”

 After the game, I checked a book on scouting reports. Near as I can tell, the Brewers don’t have anyone to offer for Kile. Too bad for us. And especially too bad for Phil; smoke-and-mirrors only goes so far. He needs a few more good ballplayers.

The game was a case in point. Kile threw well enough to keep their power hitters in check, and our speed advantage was evident — on the bases and in the field.

In the eighth inning, we got a real scare when Luis González was hit in the right elbow by Ron Villone. You could hear the cracking sound all over the ballpark.

When I pinch-ran for Gonzo, we had a 3-1 lead with two outs and men on first and second. The team was pretty upset, almost to a point of anger. Villone walked Sean Berry and then he almost decapitated Bobby Abreu. Abreu got up and cleared the bases with a double. We went on to score eight runs, all with two outs, to put the game away.

Afterward, we watched the end of the Kentucky-Minnesota basketball game and then showered for the trip to Dallas. As we were leaving, Listach came up and gave me a fine cigar, an Ashton Maduro, Garner’s favorite smoke.

“Phil told me to give you this,” he said. “But he told me you couldn’t smoke it until you got your first win.”

Looks like my first win will be a two-cigar night.

We arrived in Dallas about midnight. I wrote Garner a postcard as follows:

Dear Scraps: We sprung forward all right — in the eighth inning — a little early. Lucky for me, I didn’t take the bait, and for Gonzo, an inch above the bone — He’s OK.

Thank you for the cigar. I hope to enjoy it on April 1. But if I can’t smoke my fool head off then, I will save it for the proper occasion. It was great to see you, and I wish you well — Dierk  

I went to sleep tonight knowing we would have a winning record this spring. We are two games over .500 with one to play. After that we turn up the heat, as the Braves come into Houston on the warpath. 

THURSDAY, MARCH 28 ● Viera, vs Florida

We passed by the Astros’ old training base on the way to Viera to play the Marlins. That place sure brought back a lot of memories.

I stayed in the cinderblock dormitory we called The Hofheinz Hilton during my first spring training in Cocoa. Luckily, I was with the big-league team. I had my own small room with a dresser and a photograph of the Astrodome on the wall. There was no telephone, no television, and one bathroom that connected to the next room.

In the minor leagues, four players shared each room, sleeping in bunk beds. Eight men with only one sink and one toilet created logistics problems that led to more than a few fights.

In subsequent springs, after I had gained veteran status, I moved 15 miles east, to Cocoa Beach.

Cocoa was a sleepy little town, but Cocoa Beach was a beehive of activity, most of it related to Cape Kennedy and the space program. We trained by day and chased girls by night.

More than a few times, we raced down the toll road leading back to the dorm, flying through the toll booth without slowing down. If you don’t think an automobile can cover 15 miles in 10 minutes, you are wrong. That was the era of 424-cubic-inch engines, and we beat the midnight curfew every time but once.

That time, Mark Schaeffer got a speeding ticket. We appointed him to drive, because he had already lost his license and therefore had nothing to lose. Turned out he was a two-time loser: he was fined by the ballclub and the state of Florida. The rest of us were fined by the team only.

The locker room at Cocoa was not air-conditioned. It was steamy and stinky. Water from the showers ran out into the locker room, so that half the time you were walking around in puddles.

A printed sign over the urinal read

PLEASE DO NOT THROW GUM OR CIGARETTE BUTTS INTO THE URINAL. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CLEAN IT?

Below that sign was the handwritten reply of Doug Rader:

YES, BECAUSE I’M SCUMMY!

Doug Rader

Back then, we were all a little scummy. Our sweat-drenched undergarments hung on a line outside the locker room to dry. They weren’t laundered very often, because there was only one clubhouse attendant, one washer, no dryer.

We killed a snake or two practically every spring.

Looking back, I loved every minute, and still love every memory. That was only 30 years ago, but it seems like the Dark Ages compared to the modern facilities of this era.

Our game at Viera didn’t go so well. Mike Hampton couldn’t hook the Marlins with any of his tackle. The relief pitchers didn’t do much better. We endured our worst loss of the spring, 15-1.

Pat Listach blew the coverage on a double-play ball, and it led to three runs that would not have scored.

Jeff Bagwell drove in our only run. He is not swinging the bat real well this spring, and I am hoping that the burst of energy we all get leaving Florida and heading home for opening day will get him going.

Jeff made a major contribution to our cause after the game: he hosted a gathering of players, coaches, and clubhouse personnel at The Big Bamboo.

The Boo is kind of like the clubhouse at Cocoa: no air-conditioning, no sewer system. The bathrooms are hooked to a septic tank, and it can get pretty rank when the weather is hot.

Usually there is a breeze blowing through the place, but not this night. I guess it was a fitting way to close the hottest spring I can remember in Florida in my 31 years of training here.

The guys didn’t seem to mind too much, though. One of them secured two boxes of Cuban cigars, and a game of liar’s poker broke out in the back room.

After a couple of hours, everyone was well oiled. The coaches had shown good judgment by leaving early, and I was ready to make my exit when two guys in business suits came through the door. I turned to the back and announced. “Get that money off the table, and hide those cigar boxes. It’s the FBI.”

I guess the guys are getting to know me. They didn’t even budge.

The party was attended by practically all of the players, and by all of the coaches except Bill. His wife, Shirley, was still in town, and they were packing and preparing for their move to Houston.

I thanked Bagwell as I left. At that point, everyone was behaving well, and the foundation of camaraderie that I hope we can build in spring training was receiving final touches. In the morning, we turn in our rental cars and head for El Paso for a game with the Brewers. Then on to Arlington and the Rangers.

Cubby is going to break out a new set of signs, because we are playing American League teams. The players will have two days to get used to the new system, and I will probably put on more plays than normal, just to see if the players are able to get the signs. This has been more of a problem than I anticipated. 

I have been giving the catchers only three signs:

One is to hold the runner. The pitcher has the option of how to hold him.

The second sign is to pitch out. I give it by touching my nose, chin, or the brim of my hat, and then my ear.

When I want the pitcher to throw a high fastball to give the catcher a chance if the runner is breaking, and to give the pitcher a chance to get a swinging strike or a popup, I touch my chin or my nose and proceed upward to my nose or cap.

I can’t think of simpler signs. If I move out, it’s a pitchout. If I move up, it’s a pitchup.

So far, Brad Ausmus has been able to get every sign; Tony Eusebio has missed all but one. He’s about one-for-fifteen.

We have to do better on signs and plays if we are going to be a good team. I suppose we’ll work on it some as the year goes along, and that won’t be popular, but I don’t know of any other way to improve.

I was looking forward to coming to Florida this year like never before, but now I am looking forward to getting out of here, just like always. I may not be fully prepared, but I’m ready to go.

THURSDAY, MARCH 27 ● Kissimmee, vs Kansas City

The meeting with Donne Wall went well, as I imagined it would. The guy is a class act, pure and simple. He wasn’t really sad, but he was not complacent, either.

He said that Chris Holt deserved to make the team, but that he felt he deserved the nod over Sid Fernandez. This we could not dispute. We could only say that contractual and financial considerations weighed heavily in our decision, and we told Donne to get himself ready in case Sid failed or broke down physically.

Donne admitted that he did not have a good spring, and that he is not pitching his best baseball right now. Vern told him that the things they have been working on will get him back in the major leagues this year.

I almost told him not to worry, but remembering that I had told him the same thing after his last start, I swallowed my words.

I also had to disguise my sadness. I doubt I did a very good job, because when I looked at Vern there was sorrow all over his face.

On a happier note, the truck left for Houston this morning with the belongings of those who made the team. This is always a good day in camp. It is tangible evidence that the long training season is almost over.

The only people who are sorry to see this day are those who are connected with the team here in Kissimmee. They enjoy having the big-league team in town, and they feel a special fondness for those players who spent a summer here in the Florida State League on their way to Houston.

We played a skeleton Royals team today. They kept most of their frontline players home for another game with the Indians.

Shane Reynolds was way too much for the Royals youngsters. He beat them 9-1, striking out 13 in seven innings.

After the game, Drayton McLane came by with Gerry.

“How’d you like that squeeze play?” I asked.

Squeeze play defense

“Did we do the squeeze?” he asked with a broad smile. “I wasn’t here. I just got in.”

“We’re two-for-two now in squeeze plays,” Gerry said. “This one was with the bases loaded.”

I had to explain to Drayton that we would probably not squeeze with the bases loaded during the year.

“What I was trying to do is to see if the players would get the sign, and if Shane could get the bunt down under pressure. It’s good to know who can do it. Some guys just can’t.”

I hope I will be able to justify some squeeze plays this season. Drayton thinks it is the greatest thing going. He doesn’t really understand the risk, because the only times he’s seen it is when other teams have successfully done it against us.

Just about every time he introduced me this winter, he said, “We’re looking for bold and aggressive new leadership, and Larry is our man. We are going to do the squeeze play this year, aren’t we, Larry?”

Normally, I would answer by saying that we certainly will, and how would he feel about a triple steal?

Tony Eusebio

I don’t know if he has been able to imagine a triple steal, but I might try it. If there is a lefthanded pitcher with a slow windup, and we have a fast runner on third and a slow runner at the plate with nobody out, I might just try it. The worst thing that can happen is that we end up with runners on second and third and one out.

The hitter would probably be Tony Eusebio, and that presents a difficult problem. Tony isn’t real good at getting signs, and he likes to swing the bat. I’m not sure I want to trust him not to swing if Derek Bell is streaking home. And I’m absolutely certain that I don’t want Derek decapitated.

Drayton was upbeat, as usual. He asked how things were going, and he offered insights into leadership. Earlier this spring, he advised me to start strict. “You can always back off,” he said. “But it’s hard to tighten up if you start out loose.”

I have found this to be good advice, and I have used it a time or two. But it’s hard to be too rigid when you are managing millionaires. They tend to be rather secure in their own ways, and they don’t like to change.

with Jeff Bagwell

After we met, I observed Drayton in the locker room. He is like a bee, pollinating every flower. If he walks into a room of 100 people, he will have personal contact with all of them within half an hour. He is so effusive that the whole room radiates when he starts making the rounds. But sometimes it is difficult to get through to him.

He’ll ask you a question, and while you are answering, he’ll start talking about something else. Sometimes it seems like you’re covering a lot of ground in a little bit of time, but then it also seems like it takes forever to talk about one thing.

There is one thing the various owners of the Astros — Roy Hofheinz, John McMullen, and Drayton — have had in common: energy. Drayton starts about 5 a.m. and doesn’t lay down until midnight. And he’s all business. Even his recreation is part business.

Tonight I had four phone interviews between 6:00 and 9:30. I hope this type of evening isn’t a regular event. I know the media has a job to do, but I could get interviewed-out. Today I spent as much time on the air as I did when I was broadcasting the game. At this rate, managing could be a lucrative sideline.

Cubby just called to arrange for a ride to Viera, where we will play the best team that money can buy — the Marlins — tomorrow. I told him a few things about Drayton, and he asked me if I told Drayton about our shortstop situation.

“Gerry coached me to be positive,” I said. “And for the most part, I was. But when he asked me about Listach, I said, “Shortstop could be a problem. I don’t think our scouting reports were up-to-date. He’s not as fast as we thought, and he not too good at catching, throwing, or hitting the ball. Maybe he’ll get better when we get on AstroTurf. But then, with his knee problems, turf might be a mixed blessing for him.”

Gerry was giving me the evil eye, and I tried to soften my stance a little. But my read on Drayton is that he wants to win the division in the worst way. If Pat doesn’t look too good at short, I think Drayton should be prepared to make a tough decision about our budget. 

We’re not likely to get a steady defensive shortstop without giving up a good player and taking on some salary. If we could send Listach the other way in the deal, it would help. But that might not be possible.

It will be interesting to see how this little drama plays out.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26 ● Kissimmee, vs Cincinnati

The Reds have a shortstop named Pokey Reese. He is young and fast, and he possesses a rifle arm. It also appears that he can hit a little bit.

Pokey Reese

Too bad for Pokey; Barry Larkin will be playing short in Cincinnati this year. Pokey will ride the bench or play minor-league ball.

I could make a spot for him in Houston right now. Unfortunately, the Reds are in our division and will not allow us to improve our ballclub at their expense.

It has been said that you cannot win a pennant with a rookie shortstop; I’d like to try. Unless Pat Listach gets a lot better in a hurry, it will be hard for us to win a pennant with a veteran shortstop.

Larkin and the Reds, with an assist from Pokey, beat us 6-3 today. I rested a lot of my veterans after the night game yesterday. Tomorrow we will settle in to regular-season lineups and activities.

With only four practice-games left, I feel just about ready to take on the regular season, and I think the players are ready too. When we get out of Florida, everyone will feel energized. Just escaping the heat will be refreshing. Today it had to be nearly 90 degrees, and it was humid. It felt like the Fourth of July.

Another reason the team will be lifted is that the burden of cutdown will be lifted. This time of year is tough for the veterans too. They all have their favorites, and they get pretty emotional when a friend is sent back to the minors or released.

It is stressful for management as well. One of our favorites will be cut tomorrow. How can you not pull for Donne Wall? He is a dedicated pro and a good guy — no nonsense. His ability has been undervalued throughout his career. He will suffer another indignity in the morning.

This one may be worse, because he worked so hard all winter to get ready and he has been reassured by me that he didn’t have to worry. Honestly, I didn’t think his job was in jeopardy until I realized that Gerry was not prepared to lose Lima, Garcia, or Springer.

Vern wanted to let Springer go; I was willing to forsake Lima. I think we both would have been happy with Chris Holt in the bullpen.

As it turned out, all of the other coaches, and Gerry and Matt, favored Holt as a starter — either in Houston or New Orleans. Vern and I also favor Holt, so Donne is the odd man out.

We tried to call him at home tonight, hoping to meet with him and let him know before he shows up with his bags packed in the morning. He wasn’t at home.

This is not going to be easy.

On the positive side, Donne will not quit. He will be back. I can almost guarantee it. Some guys just have a knack for winning, and he is one of them. That said, I also believe that he will meet his match in the big leagues.

His lifetime record to date is 12-9. I don’t know how long he will last when he comes back, but I would be willing to bet that he ends up with a losing record. Not necessarily a bad record, just undistinguished. That’s why I favor Holt.

Chris Holt

Chris will probably have a more-difficult time at first. But I believe that if he starts getting experience in April, he will be tough enough to pitch critical games for us in September. That may be a stretch, as he has worked more than 250 innings in the last 12 months, and he would figure to pitch another 200 if he stays in the rotation all year long. The guy is a horse, but he may not be able to carry that load — especially if our fielding doesn’t improve.

It is one thing to labor for a team that doesn’t score. Losing close, low-scoring games is difficult, but at least there is the comfort of having done your job. When a team is deficient in the field, the pitcher is punished with runs allowed and losses. This could break a veteran down. It could crush a rookie.

I am trying to stay optimistic about our glovework. Sure, we have been shaky this spring, but so have our opponents. As we get a break from the heat, the sun, and the wind, we may settle into a better fielding groove. That could have a settling effect on what appears to be an average pitching staff.

One thing seems clear to me: we are going to need a fast start from our hitters if we plan to get through April with a decent record.

Another note of interest involves the trade of Cliff Floyd from the Expos to the Marlins for Dustin Hermanson and Joe Orsulak.

Cliff Floyd

Last winter, I asked Gerry to check in on Floyd. He is a player with enormous potential, and he is still young. His ascent to stardom was cut short two years ago by a serious leg injury. In the meantime, he has lost some of his batting skill and has seen several other young players go by him. One of them, Vladimir Benitez, seems headed for the stardom that was once predicted for Cliff.

Thinking that there may be some remote possibility that he would become odd-man-out this spring, I suggested a phone call. Gerry didn’t think there was any way the Expos would trade him. Well, now they have.

And what did they get? A pitching prospect with a great arm but with terrible control, and a journeyman outfielder.

If Floyd resurrects his career, the Marlins — already talent-rich — will hit the jackpot, for Floyd is big, strong, and swift. He has a great arm and raw hitting power. Apparently the Expos feel he will never make it back, but from my standpoint, the Marlins have risked little in the deal.

Funny how these deals get done. Marlins GM Dave Dombrowski had the same job with the Expos when Floyd was coming up through the system. I guess he hasn’t given up on Cliff’s talent yet.

As a broadcaster, I saw this type of thing all the time: a guy was originally drafted by a team, but he did not sign. Maybe he went to college. It could be ten years later, but that team still likes that guy, and they end up trading for him or signing him as a major-league free agent.

Murray Cook

Murray Cook was a scout with the Pirates, and he signed Tim Burke out of the University of Nebraska. When Cook got the GM job with the Yankees, he traded for Burke. When he moved on to the Expos, he traded for Burke again. The pair was almost inseparable, and they were both rewarded when Burke became one of the top closers in the league for a few years.

I could keep typing, but I have a big job in the morning. I better get some sleep. I hope I can. 

TUESDAY, MARCH 25 ● Baseball City, vs Kansas City

Night game. Several pitchers, including Donne Wall, worked during the afternoon in a minor-league game.

Cubby and I played golf in the morning with a couple of guys from my neighborhood in Houston, then rushed to the ballpark so that I could see Wall and Cubby could hit some extra ground balls to Listach.

We talked to Pat about taking extra grounders several days ago, but he didn’t show up in time to take them today.

Wall pitched better, but not well.

At least the golf was good. The Eagle Pines course at Disney is majestic. I went 48-38 for an 86. Not bad, considering I haven’t been playing or practicing. On the back nine I used Cubby’s Great Big Bertha driver, and I hit the ball straight and far. I made two birdies, and just missed another. I exchanged cigars with my Houston friends, and we had a big time, living like kings.

The game at Baseball City wasn’t so much fun. Sid Fernandez was wild as a March hare. He walked seven guys and gave up a three-run homer to Jay Bell. Our relief pitchers didn’t do much better, and we lost 9-3.

One thing that has been a distraction, and is becoming a nuisance, is the absence of players on the bench. Seems like every time I want to put a guy in the game or use him as a pinch-hitter, I can’t find him; he’s either hanging out in the bullpen or up in the clubhouse.

Ray Montgomery

Tonight, I couldn’t find Ray Montgomery — a rookie who is going to make the team, but doesn’t know it — and Luis Rivera, a veteran who is in the same boat. You would think that these two guys, above all others, would be ready for action. But they were not.

While I was searching for Montgomery, I missed a chance to pinch-hit with Thomas Howard. When I got back to my post at the front of the dugout, Pat Listach had already taken strike one. The bases were loaded, and we were down by four runs.

The frustrating thing about this is that it was a perfect spot for Howard, because I had talked to him about pitch-hitting before the game. The discussion started as a state-of-the-team address, in which I tried to tactfully tell him that Bobby Abreu was going to start in right field, with Derek Bell in center and Luis Gonzalez in left.

“You will get enough starts to stay sharp,” I said. “I’m not afraid to use you in left, right, or center. But a lot of times, I will need you to come off the bench with a pinch hit.”

He seemed to understand the situation. We certainly don’t want to keep a young player like Abreu on the bench as a pinch-hitter.

Thomas has been a fourth outfielder most of his career, and he has been a good one. But I think he was hoping to get a starting job here. His chance of doing that was diminished by his arm injury.

While Thomas was out, Abreu hit like crazy, throwing well and running like a stallion. When Thomas came back, he boxed a few balls in the outfield and couldn’t throw real well. He also came to camp a little heavy, and he is not running like he used to.

All these things made the Abreu decision easy, but I still had to tell Thomas in a way that would make him feel important.

“Look,” I said, “I look at your record and I see that every year you get between 250 and 400 at-bats. That tells me that all of your managers have seen you as more than a pinch-hitter. I know you are not happy with your outfield play so far, but that does not concern me. What I want to know is, where you feel most comfortable in the order?”

He told me that he mostly hit leadoff last year, but that he liked hitting fifth or sixth too.

“Your stats suggest that you would be a better RBI man than a get-on-and-score guy,” I said. You hit for high average with moderate power, but don’t walk much. If you are on the bench, I consider you my top lefthanded RBI guy. But how about when you are in the lineup? Have you ever hit second?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I can hit second. I can bunt. I can pull the ball through the hole. I haven’t hit second a lot, but I can do it.”

We discussed his role as a pinch-hitter. I told him that I would try to save him for a meaningful situation — probably late in the game. His expression told me that he embraced that role.

“I’ll probably use Billy (Spiers) if it’s a leadoff at-bat, because I think you have a little more pop in terms of RBI. The main thing is that I need you to be ready, because I may not make up my mind until the last minute. I’m new at this, but you’re a veteran. If you think I might need you, get yourself loose.”

Well, when Listach took a strike, I looked down the bench and there was Howard with his helmet on and a bat in this hand. He was ready, but it was too late. I didn’t want to embarrass Listach by taking him out in the middle of his at-bat, and I didn’t want to bring Howard in with a strike in the count.

James Mouton

It was easier to tell James Mouton that he was going to be a spot-starter, but primarily a bench player. He missed most of spring training with a hand injury.

He pretty much knows his role, and it is sad in a way. He’s such a hard worker, and he wants to regain the everyday status that he had as a rookie. He even played winter ball to prove that he could do it, but he continued to have trouble with righthanded pitchers, then broke his hand. Just as his hand got better, he pulled a hamstring.

“The only thing that concerns me,” I said, “is that since you have been back, I haven’t really seen you run hard. Is your hammy still bothering you?”

“No,” he said. “But I have been protecting it. I think I’m about ready to let it out.” During the game, he did just that. He topped a breaking ball from a righthanded pitcher and almost beat it out, going down the line full-bore for the first time.

Well, at least I know James is back. He still has a problem with the righthanded breaking ball, but he’s running like the wind again.

Kenny Hand

After the game, I was walking out to the parking lot with Cubby and an old beat-writer-turned-radio-sports-personality, Kenny Hand. Kenny asked me what I said to the pitchers when I took them out of the game. I told him that with Sid, it was easy: “You’ve had it. Don’t worry about it. You got your work in.”

With Mike Magnante, it was a little clumsy. He is not going to make the team, and he showed why. After several good outings, he was really bad tonight. His stuff was terrible, and his control wasn’t much better.

“You were walking so slow,” Kenny said.

“I know,” I admitted. “I didn’t know what to say. Then when I got there, I said, “That’s enough for tonight. I’m going to bring Mike in.” The problem was that Mike was already in, and I was bringing Tom Martin in. Now Magnante probably thinks I don’t even know his name. Or Martin’s either, for that matter.”

Glenn Abbott

“That’s not so bad,” Cubby said. “I remember one time in Texas when a kid by the name of [Glenn] Abbott was making his first big-league start [for Oakland]. He went along pretty well for three innings, and then he gave up two or three runs in the fourth.

“The kid was feeling pretty good about his first start, until Dick Williams came to the mound. ‘Give me the fucking ball,’ he said. ‘With that horseshit stuff you’re throwing, you might get somebody killed out here.’

“I don’t think Magnante felt as bad tonight as Abbott felt when Williams got through with him.”

MONDAY, MARCH 24 ● Kissimmee, vs Florida

This is the day we discuss the last cuts. This is a big one, I suppose. I have a theory, however, that it is not as big as we make it out to be. By “we,” I mean the power structure within the ballclub, the players on the team, and the media.

Everyone treats this cut as if it is life-and-death. If you had to stick with your picks all year long, it would be a fateful day. But my experience tells me that the team will change as often as a chameleon as the season moves on.

It takes 35 or 40 men to win a championship, but we must cut down to 25 for Opening Day. In a typical year, we will lose five players to injuries, and move ten or so up and down, depending on performance and need.

For example, we will keep veteran infielder Luis Rivera to play a backup role. But if one of our front-line infielders gets hurt, we will likely call up Russ Johnson or Luis Lopez to start. Because Johnson and Lopez are relatively young, it is thought that they will perform better on an everyday basis. Rivera has plenty of experience, and he understands the role of a backup player. Though he has a little less speed and power than the others, it is thought that he will perform better part-time than the other two.

Our toughest cut will be Donne Wall. Donne is the Rodney Dangerfield of pitchers. He doesn’t throw hard; doesn’t have a good breaking pitch. His strengths are good control of the fastball and a terrific changeup.

If he were lefthanded, he could get some respect with this repertoire. But he is righthanded. As a result, he has spent two years at A ball, two more at AA, and two at AAA. Each year he has posted a winning record. Each year, the brain trust has said, “Yeah, but if we move him up, he’ll be overmatched. You can’t pitch at that level with his stuff.”

Last year, we got desperate and called Donne to the major leagues. It was the first time he had ever been on the roster. All those years, all those wins, and never on the roster. Most teams have guys on the big-league roster who have never had a winning year. We have exposed Donne to the winter draft year after year, and no team has drafted him.

So what did he do when we called him up? He went 9-8 with a respectable ERA, and he pitched 150 innings. Don’t ask me how he did it; I don’t like his stuff, either. But I have tremendous respect for his ability to win. Believe me, it is not easy to win, year after year.

Sometimes you get in a rut with your control and go on a losing streak. Sometimes you get into a spot in the rotation where the team doesn’t score any runs when you are pitching. Nolan Ryan won the ERA title one season, and finished 8-16. Donne Wall has a seven-year winning streak.

Unfortunately, Donne’s control has been off this spring. He just can’t seem get his fastball on the corners. With control, his slow fastball is good. Without control, it is terrible. His changeup depends on his fastball. Without control, he is dead meat. And that has been the story for him this spring.

Today I presented Gerry with the coaches’ ballots. The only two that included Donne Wall were mine and The Perfessor’s. Interesting, isn’t it? Not one nonpitcher wants him on the team; both ex-pitchers still think he can win.

“What it really comes down to,” Gerry said, “is Donne Wall or Chris Holt. Which one do you want in the rotation?”

This choice was given to us because we don’t want to lose Jóse Lima, Ramón Garcia, or Russ Springer. Each of these guys throws harder than Donne, and each probably has more trade value. But they have not been winners; Donne has won at each level.

None of us want to see Holt go to the minors; he is ready for prime-time now. And if he doesn’t get his brain bent by major-league adversity, he will probably win more games than Wall could.

My question was: “What about Kile?”

We had just watched Darryl “The Enigma” stink it up again — this time against the Marlins. He has not pitched as poorly as Wall this spring, but he hasn’t pitched well at all.

What makes it worse is that he shows no desire whatsoever to accept coaching. Every time you try to coax him into a conversation about pitching mechanics or strategy, he starts spouting his own convoluted theories as if they were gospel.

Socrates would have a field day with this guy. If you asked D.K. enough questions, he would meet himself coming and going. You say eether and I say eyether; you day neether and I say nyether; you say vanilla and I say vanillo, you say tomayto and I say tomahto. Let’s call the whole thing off.

That’s my take on Kile: call it off. I can’t work the puzzle.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “What we are doing here is forecasting the future. We know what these guys have done in the past. And we know what we have seen with our own eyes down here. But we don’t know what these guys are going to do this year.

“My opinion is that if you start all these guys all year long, the win totals of the pitchers will go in this order: Reynolds, Hampton, Holt, Wall, Kile, Fernandez. So I don’t see this as Holt or Wall. I see it as pray for Sid and trade Kile.”

I got a few grins out of that summary, but I was serious. Gerry was a little impatient. He sometimes gets that way with me and my counterculture thinking.

“Let’s be realistic,” he said. “Kile has to be in the rotation unless I trade him this week. And there is a market for him. But if we demote him, there will be no market. Sid is Sid. He’s won over 100 games, and he’s still hard to hit when you can roll him out there. Wall and Holt still have options. If we need them, all we have to do is call them up.”

As usual, it was hard to refute his logic. But I sure am tired of watching Kile. When I was broadcasting, I used to take my headset off between innings and tell my TV partner, Bill Brown, “You couldn’t pay me to watch this guy pitch. Well, you could, I guess, because that’s what I’m doing. But I sure wouldn’t classify this as entertainment. It’s more like torture.”

Lest I sound too abrasive, I must admit that this guy has pitched a no-hitter, made the All-Star team, and won 15 games in a single season. He has never had an arm problem, and he can throw more pitches in a game without losing velocity than any pitcher in our entire organization. He does have exceptional talent. I guess that’s why it is so hard to watch him struggle.

You want to help, but he won’t let you.

The other problem we have is with Pat Listach, our Opening Day shortstop. When Cubby rated our shortstops, he said, “Rivera is the best. He’s a decent backup. Lopez misses a lot of ground balls in practice. He’s not really a shortstop; he’s a second-baseman. By far the worst, when it comes to catching the ball and accurate throwing, is Listach. I’d like to say he’s improving, but I can’t see it.”

I think everyone would endorse a Kile-for-a-front-line-shortstop deal right now. But it seems unlikely that that kind of deal can be done. So we go into the season with a reluctant centerfielder, no real shortstop, and three pitchers who have never been successful anywhere. Not to worry.

“I’ve always said that the team that wins the championship is not the team that has the best lineup on Opening Day, but the team that improves the most over the year,” I said. “With this setup, we have a lot of room for improvement.”

Of course, I said this partially in jest. Every team in our division has similar problems. We still have Biggio, Bagwell, Bell, Gonzalez, Berry, five or six good pitchers, and five or six good complementary players. Things could be worse. My buddies from Astros days of yore, A’s manager Art Howe and Brewers manager Phil Garner, are in worse shape than I am. 

We lost 7-6 to the Marlins today. Thomas Howard got a couple of hits, but he missed another fly ball in right field. He has missed them in left, right, and center now. When they told us he could play all three positions equally well, they were right.

This makes it easy to give the nod to Abreu at the start. Somehow I have the feeling that Howard is better in the field than what we have seen so far. I still wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up starting a lot of games this year. Time will tell.

If my crystal ball is working, it could prove to be my best asset in the long run.

SUNDAY, MARCH 23 ● Vero Beach, vs Dodgers

Today the team went to Vero Beach at 8:30, and I stayed back with Vern to watch Chris Holt and Donne Wall throw.

Donne wasn’t impressive; he almost never looks good throwing on the side. Holt looked good. The Perfessor and I left for Vero about 9:15. On the way, we debated the upcoming decisions regarding the pitching staff.

The dilemma is whether to go on past records, or on what we are seeing down here. It is complicated by contractual considerations.

José Lima and Russ Springer are out of options. If we want to send them to New Orleans, they will have to clear waivers. Chances are, another team will claim them.

Ramon Garcia

We drafted Ramón Garcia from the Brewers this winter. If we don’t keep him all year, we must offer him back to Milwaukee, and they will probably take him. The transaction will cost us $25,000.

Looking at their records, there is only one good argument to keep them: Their competitors in camp haven’t accomplished much more, and they haven’t thrown much better.

Except for Holt, there is no young pitcher in camp with a good pedigree. The problem is that all three of these guys throw righthanded. Because Wagner is a closer, it would be nice to have another lefty. But the other lefties have their own imperfections.

Tom Martin probably has the best stuff, but he has only had half of a good year at the AA level.

Mike Magnante has been up-and-down with Kansas City for three years; he has been unable to stick. His big pitch is the screwball, which makes him better against righthanded hitters.

As a rookie last year, Al Morman got lefthanders out pretty well, but got hammered by righthanders.

Martin and Magnante have pitched well this spring; Morman has not. Lima, Garcia, and Springer have all pitched well, but we can see the evidence of past failures in their work. We would like to think that they have turned the corner, and they are heading down the road to career recovery. But even in their success, we see hints of fallibility.

All of this uncertainty comes into clear contrast in Vero Beach, where the Dodgers send a parade of 95 MPH arms to the mound against us.

First, it is Chan Ho Park. Then Darren Hall. Then Antonio Osuna. Then Scott Radinsky. Finally, Darren Dreifort. We didn’t even see their best reliever, Todd Worrell. Nor did we see their best starters.

It must be nice to have such easy decisions when it comes to pitching. And with the Dodgers, it has almost always been thus. The Braves have had a slight edge on the Bums these last few years, but over the long haul, no team has pitched like the Dodgers.

June 14, 1966 (courtesy Retrosheet)

When I was pitching, I hated Dodger Stadium. Fact is, I never won a game there after 1966, when I beat Sandy Koufax 3-0. Oh, I pitched a lot of good games: 2-1, 3-2, 2-0 losses and the like, at the hands of Don Sutton, Claude Osteen, Don Drysdale, Bill Singer, Tommy John, Andy Messersmith, and all the rest. I bet my ERA there is pretty good. But that’s small consolation for one road win in 13 years. I did beat them a few times at the Dome, but even then, it wasn’t easy.

The Cubs and the Giants were easy to beat, by contrast. I gave up plenty of runs, but still won.

Today was a typical loss to the Dodgers. Only one run on seven hits going into the ninth inning. Down 4-1. But this was a little different in that the team didn’t seem resigned to a losing fate. Instead, they erupted against Dreifort for four hits and a walk.

With two outs, Derek Bell hit a screamer toward the right-centerfield gap with two men on base. Unfortunately, it was too low. Second-baseman Juan Castro leapt into the air and stabbed it. We lost 4-3.

Driving home, I felt pretty good, but I’m still confused about the pitching. Springer and Magnante came through again. These decisions are going to come down to guesswork, as usual. There are no 95 MPH arms demanding attention; instead, we will have to look into our clouded crystal balls and attempt a reading.

This is where you set yourself up for a fall. A few of these guys may go on to achieve a degree of success. Most will fail.

But which ones? Which ones?

SATURDAY, MARCH 22 ● Kissimmee, vs Cincinnati

Shortly after I arrived this morning, Gerry came in to talk about Derek. I could tell he had been considering various strategies.

“Clearly, we have to do something,” he said. “We can’t let this thing fester.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bill said. “I’ll talk to him and see if I can do some fence-mending.”

A few minutes later, I was talking to Gerry in my office.

“You know, Bill may be part of the problem,” Gerry said. “We all like Bill. He’s a great guy. But he is old-school. A different approach may be what we need.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “In fact, my instinct yesterday was to talk to him myself. But Bill has so much more experience. And with the work he did with Barry Bonds, I just thought I should defer to him.”

“I understand,” Gerry said. “But I think your instinct was right. I have a good relationship with Derek, and I don’t think he’s a bad guy. But you have to try to understand him.”

Julia

“He’s like my daughter, Julia,” I said. “I was telling Mac about that yesterday. It seems like every day, she wakes up in a new world. And whatever she has said she planned to do goes out the window. Everything is predicated on the impulse of the moment. There is no plan as you and I know it.”

“Well, what do you do with Julia?” he asked.

“We’ve tried a lot of things,” I said. “And even though we love each other, I can’t say we’ve been able to get her motivated to be productive. It’s hard to see things though her eyes.”

“Well, I think I can see things through Derek’s eyes sometimes,” he said. “I think the whole thing comes down to Bagwell and Biggio. He wants to be treated the same as them.”

“He has been,” I said, perhaps a bit defensively.

“Think about that,” he said. “The other day, Bidge and Baggy came out after seven innings. Derek played nine, and then had to run afterward. That was one problem.”

“Yeah, but the day before in Lakeland, he told me if I gave him the rest of the game off, he would play nine the next day. So he played nine.”

“Yes, but remember what you said about Julia? If she told you she was going to do something tomorrow, would you bet on it?”

“Good point,” I said.

“Here’s another one,” he said. “Yesterday in the meeting, you were talking about stepping it up for the last week. You said something about Bagwell, Biggio, and Reynolds just getting ready at their own pace, and that you knew they would be there for you, playing hard all year long. But you questioned whether anyone could just step it up on opening day, and you said ‘maybe we need to step it up now.’ You didn’t mention Derek’s name.”

“For crying out loud, Gerry,” I said. “I just happened to see those three guys sitting up front. I could have used any names, including Derek’s.”

“But you didn’t,” he said. “I think he is watching everything that is done and listening to everything that is said. I’m not getting on you, because I know these are trivial things. I’m just saying, maybe you need to be aware of his feelings at all times. Not that you can do this for every player. But every player may not be as sensitive or important as Derek.

“And another thing. Yesterday, when he didn’t start and had to sit on the bench: Has Bagwell or Biggio ever sat on the bench this spring?”

“No,” I said. “But they could. Do you think that they would put on their street clothes and leave without asking, if they weren’t in the lineup? Do you want me to test them out? Because I’ll tell you: They may ask if they can go, but they won’t just get dressed to leave.”

“I hear you,” he said. “I agree with you. But it’s just a way of looking at things through his eyes. I don’t want a test case; I just want to put a lid on this particular situation.”

Feeling that Gerry’s points were well-taken, but also feeling somewhat inadequate to put his suggestions to practice, I suggested we have a meeting.

“Maybe you and Mac and I could meet with him — apart from Bill, so it isn’t so threatening — and try to get this ironed out.”

“I think this is something you have to do yourself,” he said. “You can’t always go to Mac, because he’ll be caught in-between. And I won’t always be around.”

I knew he was right. But I wasn’t looking forward to the challenge.

Tom McCraw

During stretching, I talked with Mac. I explained my dilemma, and I asked for guidance.

“Look, this ain’t no big deal,” he said. “You mentioned your daughter, and I have a son the same way. Fortunately, he’s grown out of it. Derek is like that too. But he’s not a bad guy.

“The only thing you have to understand is that you can’t take what he says one day and apply it to the next day. Like when he said he would play nine; I bet he doesn’t even remember saying that. He just wants to get treated like Bagwell and Biggio. If you do that, you don’t have a problem.”

I looked for an opportunity to talk to Derek, but I didn’t want the rest of the guys on the team to see me pulling him aside. I didn’t want them to think I was treating him like a special case. And I didn’t want him to feel like I was singling him out in front of everyone.

I told Bill what I was thinking, and he laughed. “He’s in about the best mood I’ve seen him in all spring,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The only ones who are shook up about this are us.”

After that, I didn’t worry. The opportunity to talk never presented itself.

We lost to the Reds 6-3. John Smiley pitched a gem. Shane Reynolds battled and lost, without his best stuff. I walked back to the locker room with Gerry. He asked if I had talked to Derek. “No,” I said. “But he seems okay. I’ll try to catch up with him tomorrow at Vero.”

Gerry pushes hard sometimes, but he is pretty reasonable overall. He asked if we could meet to discuss final cuts by Monday, and I said we could. I’ve already asked each member of the coaching staff to pick the team they would like to break with, and to write it down for me.

“No consulting,” I said. “I want your own opinions.”

I picked up Judy and we met my former broadcast partner Dewayne Staats and his family for Mexican food. Dewayne got his big break from Tal Smith, and he has since become one of the top broadcasters in the country.

We are all hoping that with the new ballpark, and with the spirit of Cruz, Virdon, Ruhle, Ashby et al, Dewayne will return to his roots with the rest of us. He is currently working baseball for ESPN with another ex-Astro, Joe Morgan.

It would be great to get him back. With so many good vibrations, I can’t help but feel that a pennant is in the offing soon.