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Replacing a Legend Takes Time

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When Gregory Allen Brock, the rookie, reported to the Dodgers to play first base in the spring of 1983, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. It was nothing St. Michael the Archangel couldn’t handle.

All he had to be was a combination of Frank Merriwell, Captain Marvel, the First Marines and the Boy Scouts of America. You know, loyal, trustworthy, honest, able to start a fire with two sticks or a rally with one swing.

After all, the man he was replacing was only human. Steve Garvey’s halo only came out at night. He only glowed in the dark. He hadn’t been found in the bulrushes and he had to take a boat to cross water like everyone else.

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Management told Greg Brock to take all the time he wanted to replace Garvey--take a month if he had to. He didn’t have to have any schools named after him the first year, but, of course, their patience would wear thin if he took too much time about it.

Oh, by the way, he also had to get 200 or so hits, 25 or 30 home runs, bat .300 and drive in 100 runs every year, read the Bible, never cuss and keep his hair combed. And, of course, get the Dodgers into the World Series.

It was nothing Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc couldn’t have handled. But, Greg Brock had some little trouble at first.

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He got the hair part right, his shoes were always shined and his uniform neat. It was the hitting-the-baseball part that proved bothersome, a pain in the bat .

Greg had the role down pat except for the little things--like the 200 hits. Greg missed those by a hundred. He missed the .300 average--but only by 76 or so points. He did everything Garvey did except for one small detail--hit the baseball.

The Dodgers took to calling him “Casey,” after the celebrated flop of Mudville. This Casey-at-the-bat had a little trouble making contact, too. He not only didn’t get any schools named for him, he had trouble making the bubble-gum cards.

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But there was one area that impressed Dodger Manager Tommy Lasorda powerfully. This Casey was mighty, too. When he hit the ball, it went. He hit 20 home runs almost off the income of his talent. In other words, for a man who bats only .224 to get 20 home runs is a demonstration there is a superstar in there someplace struggling to get out. When he wasn’t fooled on a pitch, he was Babe Ruth. When he was fooled, he was just a babe, period.

Tom Lasorda had been around baseball long enough to know nobody rolls out of bed with the ability to hit the curveball. Even Willie Mays went 0 for 24 when he came up to the big leagues. And Henry Aaron hit only 13 home runs his first season.

So Lasorda dug in. Every time--but once--the front office wanted to move his “Casey” down to Albuquerque, Lasorda talked about the home runs. He subscribes to the Earl Weaver school of managing that holds that the greatest strategy in baseball is the three-run home run.

“I told him I replaced a legend, too,” Lasorda recalls. “I told him that when Vin Scully interviewed me and asked, ‘Wasn’t I worried to be replacing a man who was a Hall of Fame manager for 23 years?’ and I said ‘Heck, no! The guy I’m sorry for is the guy that’s gotta replace me!’ I told Casey I pitied the guy who had to take over first base from him someday.”

But there was no joy in Mudville for two years as this Casey struggled to keep himself off the bus to Albuquerque or the trading block.

But, all of a sudden, this year, keen observers noticed something unusual: Casey Brock was turning into a tough out. It wasn’t that he laid off the unhitable pitches. He had always done that. But he didn’t try to overpower the hitable pitches anymore.

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“It was June 30, I believe,” Lasorda recalls. “I called Greg in and I said ‘Listen! I want you to become a ‘situation’ hitter.’ I told him he hit at the ball the same way in all situations. I pointed out that he should study Tony Perez. Tony Perez is one of the great situation hitters of all time. He’s got almost 400 home runs but, when he goes up there with two men on and the team needs a run, he doesn’t try for three. He hits the ball just to bring in the run. I told Casey he should do that. You try for a home run with the score tied and two out and no one on. You try just for the winning run with two on and no one out. Tony Perez has knocked in over 1,500 runs.”

Greg’s nickname didn’t go from “Casey” to “Tony” overnight. But he began to wear out National League pitching. He went from the low .200s to .273 in a month. This past week, he has hit a grand slam homer and a three-run homer, and he has driven in 11 runs in 10 days. He has become one of the most feared hitters in the league.

No one has asked him to run for the Senate yet, although a lot of pitchers wish he would.

Greg has never let the experience make him bitter. “I realize a lot of people were against me, pulling for me to fail,” he acknowledges quietly. “But most baseball fans are fans. They’re for the team, and you’re the team. They want you to do well.”

Knowing fans, they’re probably really revving up to get all over the upstart who tries to replace Greg Brock someday. As for Greg Brock, he can now report it was easy all along. Once you dry up the Red Sea, the rest is just a walk in the sun.

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