UECKER TRIES PLAY ON ‘MR. BELVEDERE’

The Jock Flock.

Ex-athletes are all over TV these days. They range from Alex Karras on “Webster” to Mike Warren on “Hill Street Blues” to O. J. Simpson in commercials to Fran Tarkenton hosting a business program on Lifetime cable.

And more are coming. Former pro defensive back Fred Williamson and Bubba Smith and Dick Butkus--two former football fat cats who got even fatter making beer commercials--are regulars on “Half-Nelson” the NBC comedy premiering at 9 p.m. Sunday (on Channels 4, 36 and 39), thereafter to air at 9 p.m. Fridays.

Preceding them, though, was Bob Uecker on ABC’s new “Mr. Belvedere” series. You remember Uecker, the former major-league catcher and straight-faced star of those Lite Beer commercials who has made more than 75 self-deprecating appearances on “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.”

Some athlete.

In his other life, the 50-year-old Uecker is radio play-by-play announcer for the Milwaukee Brewers. Since ending his playing days in 1967, however, he has made a good living as a comic by telling audiences that he was more schlock than jock.

Now, adding another dimension, he is making his acting debut in “Mr. Belvedere” as a sportswriter whose chaotic family is organized by a British housekeeper.

If only “Mr. Belvedere” were as funny as the baseball stories of Mr. Uecker.

Uecker recalled the first joke he ever told about himself: “I had another great year . . . six RBIs”

He was on his lunch break, carrying a can of root beer. He was wearing three large rings. “I earned them,” he said. “That’s a World Series ring. And that’s a world championship ring.” And the third ring? “I rented it for the show.”

Uecker has a financial stake in his carefully cultivated image as a laughable baseball flop. It’s typified by his appearance in that Lite Beer commercial showing him being relegated to the far reaches of the right-field bleachers. The image is misleading, though.

To reach the major leagues at all is an achievement, and Uecker spent six years there, playing for three teams. His lifetime batting average was a shade under .200. One season, he tore up the league, hitting seven home runs.

All right, he wasn’t a smash success either.

He proudly ticked off his career highlights.

“One of them was a bases-loaded walk that forced in the winning run in the first interleague squad game of the spring. Another was getting out of a rundown.”

Uecker leaned back contentedly.

“You know what else?” he continued. “I showed up for every game, and the ones I didn’t show up for I tried to catch on the radio.”

That’s heart.

In truth, Uecker was a promising young player when he was brought up by the then Milwaukee Braves after hitting .309 in the minors. But he sat on the bench. “My strength was catching the knuckle ball,” he said. “I wasn’t embarrassed if I didn’t catch it. It gave me a chance to visit with a lot of people in the seats.”

Uecker was a baseball transient. The Braves traded him to the St. Louis Cardinals, which traded him to the Philadelphia Phillies, which bundled him off to the Atlanta Braves, which released him in 1967 after he injured his hand in a motorcycle accident and was hit in the head with a beer bottle in a barroom fight.

“The first year of retirement was tough,” Uecker sighed, reliving the trauma. “No more being traded. No more being sold.”

Uecker had always been a clubhouse comedian. “When I got to the big leagues, I started doing a lot of Rotary and Kiwanis clubs. The more people laughed, the more stories I came up with.”

He got his first professional comedy shot through jazz trumpeter Al Hirt, who had opened a club in Atlanta and had “Tonight Show” contacts. “I don’t have any problem coming up with weird stuff,” Uecker said. “ ‘The Tonight Show’ calls two or three days before, and I can always come up with 10 minutes.”

His comedy carries over to the play-by-play booth. “I’m not a big stat freak,” he said. “But last season, when the Brewers were 33 games out of first place, I had to do something. So I did ‘Tonight Show’ stuff.”

Being funny in a monologue and being funny in a sitcom are different skills, however. And although Uecker believes he’s made a smooth transition to acting, ABC felt he was so stiff in the “Mr. Belvedere” pilot that it changed his character from being a businessman to a sportswriter, hoping to loosen him up by having him tell baseball stories.

“Mr. Belvedere” (Fridays at 8:30 p.m.) is a limited series being tested for a regular spot in the ABC schedule. “I don’t have any doubt that this show will make it,” Uecker said. “But if it doesn’t, I can go to Japan. They’ve never seen me play ball over there.”