RMJ 176 August 10

SUNDAY, AUGUST 10 ● New York, vs Mets

Our assistant PR director, Darryl Simon, came by this morning with an unusual request. It seems Fox wants me to go up to the booth, with my uniform on, to make a commercial or a promotional tape — sitting in, as it were, with one of their play-by-play men.

I was not happy about this, but I assumed I had to do it, because they were able to force us to put a microphone on Cheo.

I don’t blame these guys for trying to be innovative. In fact, I think they have been highly creative. But I don’t want to make a fool out of myself, or give the impression that I’m on a lark.

My unusual path to the manager’s office brought a lot of publicity. That was fine. But I was hoping the team would play well enough to take the spotlight off me. This has pretty much been the case lately. Now, this.

I grudgingly agreed to do the shoot. Then I mentioned it to Gerry, and he went off.

“I just had it out with them over the microphone,” he said. “I told Flip (executive producer John Filippelli) that he should direct all requests to my office. He agreed. So now they come straight to you. That’s bullshit.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because I didn’t want to do it anyway. I would feel foolish up in the booth with my uniform on. I’m not sure it would sit well with the players, either. I’m still trying to build my credibility. This type of thing makes it look like a joke. And we’re trying to win this thing.”

“Where’s Darryl?” he asked.

“He was in here a minute ago,” I said.

Gerry stalked out of my office and headed for the locker room. In a minute, he was back.

“I don’t know where he went, but I’ll find him. For now, you can operate under the assumption that you have a direct order not to do it.”

I was glad Gerry intervened. It’s not that I object to humor; I think we take ourselves way too seriously. But I feel the humor should be spontaneous, not contrived.

 

Gerry and I talked about our catching vulnerability at greater length. We brought Tony Eusebio in to ask him what he wanted to do, and what he thought he would be able to do.  He said he would prefer to stay active and try to catch D.K. This is what I want, too. Surgery is an option, but there is no certainty he would make it back in time for the playoffs.

Tony is a popular guy on our team. He works hard, and he minds his own business. Everyone knows he is playing hurt, and that lends a sense of heroism to the game when he plays. It serves as a model of dedication and self-sacrifice.

This ordeal is not helping his lifetime batting average, but from what the doctors tell us, there is no real risk. Whether he plays or not, he should be back to 100% next spring, after surgery and rehabilitation.

Randy Knorr is three or four weeks away from being able to play. Mitch Meluskey is an unproven youngster.

If Brad goes down, we’re in trouble.

Drayton is wary about trading with the Tigers, because of the deals we made with Tal’s son Randy; both of those trades have been criticized.

I would have traded Todd Jones, Brian Hunter, and Orlando Miller for Brad Ausmus, straight-up. That’s how much Brad has meant to our pitching staff. But Jones and Hunter are having good years, and we had trouble filling Miller’s spot at shortstop until Bogey took over.

I don’t think you can let the trades of the past affect your judgment on future trades. You have to put a bad deal behind you — just like a bad outing on the mound.

I think Detroit’s Matt Walbeck is our best bet. If it comes down to the Brewers’ Kelly Stinnett, I would rather take a look at Mitch.

For now, we are going to stick with the status quo.

I have to wonder what effect Tony has on D.K. — especially after this afternoon’s ballgame.

Darryl was wild high, and he was not able to make the adjustment to get his fastball down in the strike zone. As a result, he nearly blew a big lead.

We went up 5-0 in the first inning, as the Mets helped out with a couple of errors. We came right back with two errors of our own, and the Mets scored three runs.

John Olerud hit a homer to make it 5-4, but Derek hit one for us to get the run back. We got three more in the fifth to make it 9-4.

At this point, it looked like D.K. would cruise in, with his sixteenth win. When we got two more in the seventh, the fat lady started singing some scales.

But the Mets weren’t finished. They scored four runs so quickly, we couldn’t get a reliever ready.

By the time Tom Martin got loosened up, Darryl had settled down. He finished the seventh, but now the Mets had the momentum. In a normal game, a three-run lead with two innings to play is a commanding position. In this game, it felt insufficient.

José Cabrera got an out and gave up a hit in the eighth. That brought up Todd Hundley as a pinch-hitter. He was the last man left on Bobby Valentine’s bench. I brought Martin in, to make Hundley hit righthanded. He hit a fly ball all the way to the wall in right-center, but Derek caught up with it and made a nice catch. Martin got the next four batters, and we won 11-8.

This brush with disaster may be good for us in the long run, because it made Martin feel like a hero. His chances of saving a game when Wagner isn’t available are better for having saved this one for Kile.

 

One thing that has been a real lift is Derek’s personality. All year long, he has lobbied to hit in front of Bagwell. When we were last in New York, I hit him second, and he hit a home run. Then he got hurt, and when he came back, I put him back in the five-hole.

He doesn’t fit the description of a two-hole hitter at all. He can’t bunt, and he draws few walks. He isn’t stealing any bases, and I don’t like to hit-and-run with him, because of his power potential.

So what does he do when I bat him second? He goes on a tear. And his attitude meter goes off the upper end of the scale.

He’s joking around, encouraging teammates, running all over the place, feeling great. Yogi Berra once said that baseball is 90 percent mental, and the other 50 percent is physical. Using this formula, Derek is operating at about 130 percent of capacity.

If his streak continues, it will be the smartest dumb thing I have done all year.

 

Gerry and I went to Little Italy for dinner tonight, and it was great. Not just the food, but the whole atmosphere.

From our sidewalk table we observed a street scene that was, in a word, fascinating. The streets are blocked off here, and they are full of tourists. It’s like Disney World without the funny hats.

As we dined, we talked about the catching situation and the outfielders. I am really anxious to get more octane from the outer garden. He asked me if I would favor bringing up Richard Hidalgo, and sending down Mouton. I didn’t even have to think about it.

“You bet,” I said. “I love Mouton; he’s a great kid. But I also believe Bill is right when he says that we will never find out how good he can play unless we play him every day, and give him a chance to settle down. He’s just too high-strung for a bench player.”

If James is able to play every day for three weeks, we will learn more about him. My hunch is that he will hit well at AAA New Orleans, and that it will help his confidence for when we need him in September. At the same time, it will give us a chance to observe Richard against big-league pitchers.

“I could use Richard in center against lefthanded pitchers,” I said. “And I could also use him to rest Gonzo.”

 “Well, let’s sleep on it,” Gerry said. “We can make a decision tomorrow.”