Vince Lopez Works Hard at Self-Improvement, but Discovers . . . HIS PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE

Each time his stock would soar, Vince Lopez would assess his situation, weigh his options and patiently elect to wait.

Three years ago, the Toronto Blue Jays offered him $22,500 to sign a contract out of high school, with another possible $7,500 in incentives.

He declined, and attended UCLA, where classes, fraternity parties and perhaps a more normal existence for an 18-year-old awaited him.

A year ago, the Seattle Mariners tempted him with a contract worth $46,500.

Thanks, but no thanks.

School meant too much. He had flunked a class in abnormal psychology, had been declared academically ineligible and had been forced to forgo what would have been his sophomore season. The scouts didn’t care about his grades. But he owed it to himself and to the school, he believed, to return to UCLA, rather than sign.

So, this kid from Santa Ana found himself in, of all places, Alaska, where he played summer ball for a team called the Goldpanners and took a history class at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks. This was shortly after he’d finished his academic chores at Orange Coast College the previous spring--all so he could return to Westwood in good standing.

After an above-average academic career and a phenomenal athletic career at La Quinta High School, Lopez and failure could not peacefully coexist. Had he elected to leave UCLA, perhaps accepting failure, he would have done so with his head hanging, his baseball cap shielding his face and the shame covering it.

But Lopez clawed his way back to the required academic level, and his grade-point average and his pride rose to new heights.

On the baseball field, though, his progress slowed considerably, and he ended a season plagued by injuries with a .245 batting average.

It was time for another career decision. Should he continue his academic pursuits or play professional baseball?

The scouts still didn’t care about his grades. They glanced at his statistics and this time the contract called for $20,000 plus $7,500 in incentives--the worst offer he’d had yet.

With his education--clearly a significant part of his life--still incomplete, Lopez said no to college and yes to baseball.

So, without the slightest feeling of remorse, he signed with the Chicago White Sox, who had drafted him in the second round of the secondary phase of the June draft. He did so with the knowledge that he had been true to himself and to UCLA.

His conscience clear and his mind at ease, he collected his belongings and left Santa Ana for Sarasota, on the Gulf Coast of Florida--home of the White Sox’ rookie-league team.

The brutal humidity and frequent rain bothered him at first, and he was sick for a few days. But the radical change in climate didn’t dampen his spirits. And though his batting average plummeted from .360 to .245 almost in the blink of an eye--he went 0 for 30 at one point--he appears content.

“It was a tough decision, let me tell you,” he said. “I made the decision to come and play. And I’m happy.”

He is happy with the decision itself, as well as the timing. He is happy he waited, and that last year, he chose to return to school. He is happy in spite of the money he forfeited by postponing his departure from college.

“I felt I had something to prove to myself and my family,” he said. “I felt that, in a way, I embarrassed myself. I just had to prove to myself that I could do it.”

For the longest time, he proved to everyone there was little he could not do. The only thing Lopez and embarrassment ever had in common was the humiliation he routinely would bestow upon opponents. When he wasn’t excelling at shortstop, he was excelling as a safety on the football field. Or wingback. Or punter. Or kick returner.

He was all-CIF in baseball and football. He batted .488 as a junior and made one error as a senior. He had 15 interceptions and averaged 40.6 yards punting his senior year. He was heavily recruited in baseball. Brigham Young, Nebraska, USC and UCLA were a few of the colleges with an eye on his football skills.

Baseball and UCLA were his decisions.

He lasted through the fall of 1983. His GPA, which he said was about 1.7 or 1.8, was a more significant statistic than his .296 batting average or his 33 runs batted in.

His services no longer were needed, and he was requested not to return--at least until he could achieve better numbers.

“I felt ashamed,” he said. “I had never failed at anything in my life. I was pulling my hair out. I said to myself, ‘What am I gonna do?’ ”

He answered his own question with maturity and logic.

“I took a lot of walks,” he said. “And I just told myself, ‘It’s out there for you. It’s not gonna be given to you. You have to work for it.’ And I did. I made a personal commitment to myself and to my family. I grew up a lot in those months. It made me realize that nothing comes easy. You’ve got to work for what you want.”

After identifying his task, Lopez promptly completed it. He spent the spring of 1984 attending Orange Coast College and assisting his high school coach, Dave Demarest, with the team at La Quinta.

And not playing baseball.

“I went to school, I went home and I went to the (high school) ballpark,” he recalled. “I’d look in the papers to see what the Bruins were doing, and I had no part of it. It hurt me.”

In a sense, Demarest and his players were grateful. Lopez managed to place his own worries in the deepest recesses of his mind, returning to the field where he had been so successful before his world began to crumble.

“It was like he was there 10 years,” Demarest said of his rapport with the players. “It was great to coach him; I can’t imagine being coached by him. He’s probably like E.F. Hutton. He talks, you listen. It was typical Vince. You throw him in a situation, he fits in anywhere.”

The next place he had to fit in was Alaska, where he spent last summer before he returned to UCLA with his GPA above the required 2.0.

The second time around, things were progressing far more smoothly in the classroom. But on the diamond, where Lopez was unaccustomed to trouble, suddenly he was struggling.

In the Bruins’ second Pacific-10 game of the season--against USC--Lopez went back for a popup, pivoted to avoid the left fielder and sprained his right ankle. He missed three weeks, never fully recovered and also hurt his throwing arm when he attempted to return. His replacement, John Barry, was filling in adequately, making it difficult for Lopez to win back his spot.

There are indications Lopez was bitter about being kept out of the lineup.

“I can understand what a coach goes through when a player doesn’t play and feels like he should be playing,” he said. “I really can’t say anything bad about him.”

UCLA Coach Gary Adams said that if Lopez was upset, he was unaware of it and that Lopez even approached him several times to say he was unable to play.

“He never did come to me and say anything about not playing enough,” Adams said.

But apparently, Lopez’ teammates got that idea.

“He just didn’t like the way the team was being coached,” said Jeff Osborn, who played with Lopez at La Quinta and UCLA. “He thought he should be playing more. He didn’t really get a chance.”

His disappointment must have gone with him to Sarasota, because teammate Kurt Brown of Glendora said nearly the same thing: “He said the coach didn’t give him a chance.”

But that’s behind him, thousands of miles away. Now he must concern himself with adjusting to a new life style in a place where the humidity is oppressive. A place where a drought has resulted in a ban on watering except between 4-7 a.m., making the infield dirt rock-hard and tough on a young shortstop.

And he must find the swing that he suddenly lost and bring his average up in order to bring himself up from the rookie-league level.

Bringing his average up is something Lopez is accustomed to, though. Now he just has to transfer his work ethic from the classroom to the batter’s box.