TOM SEAVER’S QUEST FOR HIS . . .300TH WIN : Perhaps Fittingly, He Will Go for It Today in New York Against Yankees

We can’t do anything about the uniform. The Chicago White Sox have tried several times in recent years and this is the end product of all their tinkering and tailoring. But it really wouldn’t matter if Tom Seaver chose to wear a tuxedo or a tutu for the occasion, such is the underlying significance.

Besides, New Yorkers pride themselves in seeing through a disguise. Call it our own conceit that Seaver is and always will be what he was, a Met. New York was where he took his first steps as a major-league pitcher. We raised him. We nurtured him. We deserve the moment, even if the management of the club twice defaulted on our commitment.

Seaver is scheduled to bid for his 300th victory today at Yankee Stadium. That’s a milestone previously reached by only 16 pitchers in the history of the game. Of the 16, all but two have been enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame. The two at large are Steve Carlton, still active, and Gaylord Perry, who retired, reluctantly, in 1983 and will not be eligible for another three years.

The inclusion of Seaver in the ranks at Cooperstown does not hinge on his performance against the Yankees or his ultimate success at amassing 300 victories. His election, in due time, already is assured. What 300 represents, other than a nice round figure to which the sport is addicted, is the baseball equivalent of a lifetime achievement award. And for those fortunate enough to attend the game, Sunday’s confrontation is a true Fan Appreciation Day, without gimmicks or extraneous gifts.

This is one for all of those who witnessed or remember Seaver’s first victory, a 6-1 decision over the Chicago Cubs at Shea Stadium April 20, 1967. This is one for those who exulted in his Imperfect Game against a first-place Chicago team two years later and can name the part-time center fielder whose ninth-inning single deflated a city. This is one for those who knew that Al Ferrara was Seaver’s 19th strikeout victim April 22, 1970, when he fanned a major-league record 10 consecutive batters to close out the game, for those who agonized quietly when Seaver defeated Jerry Koosman in his first return to Shea as a member of another team, for those who thought the world was turning it around when Seaver walked to the mound in a Mets uniform on Opening Day of 1983 and proceeded to pitch six shutout innings.

Whether we want to admit it or not, there have been changes in him as well as us. No longer do his teammates address him as Spanky. No longer does he bear the label of The Franchise. No longer do stories refer to him as a man-child. He is, after all, 40 years young, one digit removed from the number he has worn on his back for 19 seasons. He doesn’t throw with the velocity that first attracted our attention. He appears to have the beginnings of a double chin. He is more reserved (even standoffish at times) now that age and his goals have set him apart from teammates who didn’t know him when. Some of the younger Mets did not shed tears when he was plucked from the compensation pool by the White Sox in 1984.

Still, he is ours and not the property of the Mets. Consider that only five pitchers since the turn of the century have won more games for New York-based teams than the 198 Seaver amassed for the Mets. Foremost among New York’s finest, of course, is the beloved Christy Mathewson, who accounted for all but one of his 373 lifetime victories as a member of the Giants. Carl Hubbell won 253 for the Giants, Whitey Ford 236 for the Yankees, Red Ruffing posted 231 of his 273 victories for the Yankees and Fat Freddie Fitzsimmons split his 217 triumphs between the Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers.

Seaver won more games hereabouts than Iron Joe McGinnity, Burleigh Grimes, Waite Hoyt, Herb Pennock or Rube Marquard. And, but for his falling-out with M. Donald Grant in 1977 and a miscalculation by the current management 18 months ago, he would have won more here than all but Mathewson. Should this season not be disrupted by a strike, there is a good chance Phil Niekro, a member of the Yankees, will bid for his 300th victory before long. But that will not have the same impact here because Niekro (294), quite simply, is a Brave on loan to New York. There’s a statue in Atlanta that says it’s so.

A possible third addition to the exclusive club is Don Sutton (289), provided he continues to pitch next season. After him, there is no active player within reach of 300. Sutton, who is 40, has said that his is the last goal-oriented generation in baseball. He and his peers reached the majors before the advent of free agency, before it was possible for a man to enjoy a reasonably successful 10-year career in the sport and live happily, or at least lavishly, ever after.

And it’s certainly true Seaver was no idle dreamer when he arrived in New York. He wanted, indeed expected, himself to be a great pitcher and he tolerated nothing less than a positive attitude by his team. He seemed to pitch with one eye on home plate and the other eye on the record books. Although as giddy as other Mets about the team’s astounding climb to the world championship in 1969, he remained remarkably controlled in the matter of individual accomplishments. His mind always was on a greater objective, his vision focused on the horizon.

Consistency was what he sought. Longevity was a byproduct of his attention to detail. But he was fortunate to have started where he did. Note that three members of that championship team still are playing 16 years later, and all three are front-line pitchers. Nolan Ryan, who appeared in two games for the Mets in 1966 and made it to the big leagues to stay in 1968, recently struck out his 4,000th batter (fittingly, against the Mets). He is 38. Koosman, 41 and a big-leaguer since 1968, has won 6 of 8 decisions for the woebegone Phillies in 1985. The success of these three men over three decades is testimony not only to the exceptional quality of the Mets’ former pitching staff but to the shrewd manner in which it was handled.

Of the three, only Ryan was not showcased in New York. He still was more prospect than performer when the Mets traded him to the California Angels after the 1971 season for Jim Fregosi, the answer to their lifelong third-base problems, or so they thought. He departed with a record of 29-38. Two hundred and ten victories and five no-hitters later, he also is a future Hall of Famer. Koosman was different. He stayed on the Shea mound longer than anybody, outlasting even Seaver. Of his 222 victories, 140 were in a Mets uniform.