DARRYL STRAWBERRY : In His Fourth Season, It’s Still Great Expectations

Here it is Darryl Strawberry’s fourth season as a New York Met, and already immortality has tapped him on the shoulder and said: “I’m here.”

A 96-page book entitled “DARRYL!” should hit the bookstores by late June. A sampling from the publisher’s catalogue:

“We can’t win without him,” say his teammates. And when the All-Star outfielder steps to the plate, Mets fans know that something amazing is about to happen.

Now, for the first time, the former Rookie of the Year speaks out about the events that have surrounded his spectacular career; his rocky relationship with his teammates, an injury that kept him off the field and knocked his team into a slump, the exciting race for the 1985 pennant, and what it feels like to be a superstar at the age of 25 (actually 24). Packed with photos of Darryl in action, this one-of-a-kind autobiography by the sweetheart of the Big Apple is as amazing as Strawberry himself.

That makes at least four Met books in the last year (Strawberry, pitcher Dwight Gooden, first baseman Keith Hernandez and Manager Davey Johnson each have one). Who’s next, Met groundskeeper Pete Flynn and “TILLER!”?

And isn’t that Strawberry on New York television, holding a milk carton and saying a few words--available in English and Spanish--for the American Dairy Assn.? Strawberry also is a national spokesman for The March of Dimes. He has a lovely wife, a 10-month-old son, Darryl Jr., a caring family back in Los Angeles. Unless Mother Teresa stops by for a visit, he pretty much has this image thing all his own way.

Strawberry is this 6-6, 190-pound geyser of muscle that begins at feet and legs capable, we are told, of stealing 40 or so bases each season, of reaching line drives before they become doubles or triples. There is a waist that is trim, a chiseled chest, a set of shoulders that shouldn’t be legal. There are wrists and hands that have made men marvel, sending pencils skittering across scouting reports, all predicting 30 . . . 40 . . . even 50 home runs. There is grace and beauty simply in the way he settles into a batter’s box.

But the problem with being a legend before your time is that you have to do something legendary. And there’s the rub. Fate and Fame have exchanged glances, but have never shaken hands on this Strawberry deal. It is a cruel cycle: Reverence, followed by expectations, followed by success or failure. There seems to be no in-between. You either become a superstar so everyone can pat himself on the back and say, “What’d I tell you,” or you spend the rest of your career trying, like Cesar Cedeno, David Clyde or Bill Robinson once did, to be something you’re not.

This is where Darryl Eugene Strawberry finds himself these days. He has money, security and enough press clippings to line a bird cage for a decade or so. He plays for a team that is expected to reach the World Series; in a city that can use a few heroes; for a media that can make someone larger than life.

Strawberry had 81 homers, 250 runs batted in and 216 runs scored during his first three seasons in the majors, which is admirable, but no one is hurrying to prepare a Hall of Fame acceptance speech. Meanwhile, Don Mattingly, in just two full seasons with the Yankees, had more RBIs (255) and wasn’t far behind in runs (198) and homers (58).

This is the difficulty of being Strawberry, of living up to all of the supposed-to’s.

“Darryl, while he stays healthy, can hit 40, 50 home runs,” teammate Gary Carter says. “He’s got that kind of swing. You look at all the facets of the game and you say, ‘What is it that makes a superstar?’ I think the five things are: That he can run, he can throw, he can hit, he can hit with power and he can drive in the runs. He’s got all the five major things you can look at.”

Even Robinson, now a Met coach who once endured the can’t-miss label, when he was traded from the Milwaukee Braves to the New York Yankees in 1967, said he can’t help himself when it comes to Strawberry.

“His rookie year is over, the, so to speak, ‘sophomore jinx’ is over, so is the third year where he had an injury and still had 29 home runs. Now, I mean, if you have any ability at all, barring injuries, this should be the year that you should put the numbers on the board--if you want to.”

Frank Howard, a former Met manager, once suggested that if Strawberry fails in baseball, then all those responsible--scouts, coaches, managers--should look for new employment. George Bamberger, also a Met manager, compared Strawberry to Ted Williams and predicted a long and similarly splendid splinter-like career, which seems like a compliment and a curse.

Ted Williams? Strawberry has heard this sort of thing before.

Once, while playing for Crenshaw High, Strawberry kept swinging at pitches that weren’t even in the general vicinity of the strike zone, even though he was ahead, 2-and-0, 3-and-0, in the counts. Baseball Coach Brooks Hurst decided he’d try a little psychology.

“You know, Darryl, Ted Williams was a tremendous hitter,” Hurst said one day. “If he was ahead 2-0, he’d look for a strike.”

Then, in a serious tone, he said: “Darryl, you could be the next Ted Williams.”

Strawberry thought it over for a moment. “Who’s Ted Williams?” he said.

Hurst no longer coaches baseball. He works construction. But each morning he reaches for a sports section, finds the box scores and searches for Strwry rf . If Strawberry has had a particularly fine game the evening before, Hurst might let it slip that he coached the kid in high school. “They look at me and say, ‘Oh yeah, then why are you in construction?’ I tell them that I cut him when he was in 10th grade.

“You cut Darryl Strawberry?” they would say.

Strawberry came back the next season. He would leave Crenshaw as the No. 1 selection in the 1980 June free-agent draft. And he idolized no one. While other players saw themselves as maybe Dale Murphy, Jim Rice or Rickey Henderson, Strawberry decided he would remain unattached. “I think he was always Darryl Strawberry ,” Hurst said.

Now the Mets and assorted followers wait for the explosion of home runs and RBIs, for Strawberry to do what he’s supposed to do, at least by their timetable. And don’t think Strawberry doesn’t know it.

“I think I haven’t reached my peak yet,” he said. “I’m still learning more about myself. I’m learning that everything doesn’t happen overnight. It may not happen in three years, it may not happen in four years. It takes awhile to make adjustments. I feel I’ve made good adjustments. I think it’s only a matter of time for me to have those great years year after year. I think I’m at the point now where I’m gonna have those years. I’ve always thought that, but it was tough at the beginning.

“A guy who plays everyday is going to go through slumps, ups and downs and everything is not going to be peaches and cream like they wish it would be,” he said. “You still have to work hard. You’re not Superman. I’m no Superman.”

Maybe not Superman, but somebody, always somebody. In the foreword of “DARRYL!,” Hernandez, who grew up in San Francisco, writes that Strawberry reminds him of a young Willie McCovey. Great, just what Strawberry needs; another ghost of baseball past climbing on his back.

Strawberry does his best to ignore the expectations of others. He often says that he laughs at pressure, which is nice, except that it doesn’t always work out that way.

During his rookie season, as the pressure rained down on his head, Strawberry tried to pretend all was fine, that having his every move scrutinized was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t, of course.

“I know my son,” Ruby Strawberry said. “I could see the strain in Darryl’s face and know he was pressured. People were always comparing him to somebody.”

Things are better now. Another phenom, this one with more to show for his major league time, pitcher Dwight Gooden, joined the Mets the next season in 1984. Now it is Gooden who receives preferred treatment and protection by the team’s publicity department, making him available at predetermined times. “I was like that in my rookie season,” Strawberry said. “Everything (was) focused on me. Now (Gooden) takes the pressure off me, having two guys like that around. But we really don’t get caught up in it.”

Manager Johnson said: “You mention one guy but we’ve got several bona fide superstars: Gary Carter, Keith Hernandez, George Foster has been there a long time. People don’t just come and ask about Darryl. Two years ago, yes, but no more.”

This is good. Now if he can just accomplish what he wants to accomplish while everyone has their heads turned toward Gooden.

There is no doubting Strawberry’s potential. He runs in an unhurried way, as if it’s two giant steps from first and second. He stole 19, 27, then 26 bases in his first three seasons with the Mets. Surprise, they expect more.

His hands and wrists move decisively and quickly during a swing. You don’t teach this sort of thing as much as you admire it. “He generates as much bat speed through the strike zone as anyone in baseball,” Robinson said. “Eventually, he will hit a ball farther than anyone in baseball.”

Strawberry went 3 for 3 against the San Diego Padres Sunday to raise his average to .252. Left-handed pitching has provided particular problems. In a recent stretch, he was 6 for 57 against lefties, a statistic that hasn’t gone unnoticed by the New York dailies or even Johnson, who recently benched Strawberry against left-hander Jerry Reuss in Los Angeles. According to Robinson, Strawberry pulls the ball against lefties too much, causing ground balls to the right side and with them, easy outs. “He’s young, stubborn,” Robinson said.

There is a little game Robinson plays with Strawberry in the outfield before the real game begins. It serves as a barometer of sorts, almost never fails, Robinson says.

“Well, when I hit him fly balls, if he really charges and fires the first ball I hit back to me, then I know,” he says. “A couple of times I’ll hit him the ball and he might let it go.

“I tell him also that the sun isn’t going to rise and shine on him, that you’re not always going to get home runs, that you’re not always going get base hits. But at least give me a good quality game as far as defense. Everyday I hit him fly balls, fungoes in batting practice to keep him strong. He has mental lapses at times and he has times when he doesn’t go 100%, times when he’ll lay back after a ball. Just young mistakes, but young mistakes to a point where you say, ‘Hey, this is his fourth year in the major leagues and I totally expect him to put some numbers on the board, if he stays healthy.’ ”

On occasion, Robinson has called Ruby Strawberry and asked for advice on how to handle her son, how to maximize his vast talents. There is no easy solution. “Darryl is kind of, well, he’s quiet,” Ruby Strawberry said. “He’s kind of inside himself. A lot of people don’t know how to reach him.”

Hurst had his problems with Strawberry at Crenshaw. That would explain Strawberry’s dismissal from the team in 10th grade. “It was me running my team or him running my team,” Hurst said. “Darryl even said it was one of the best things that happened to him.”

Later, when he came to the Mets, Jim Frey, now manager of the Chicago Cubs, tutored Strawberry. Now it is Robinson. Not surprisingly, the same lessons are taught to Strawberry: Use your talents, use the entire field, work hard, become more selective at the plate but remain aggressive.

Robinson and Strawberry conduct a contest each game. If Strawberry allows a called third-strike fastball, it’s $25 in Robinson’s pocket. It happened twice against the Dodgers about a week ago. “But he’s been fairly good about it,” Robinson says.

“The kid is truly a good ballplayer,” he says. “He’s not a superstar in my book; he’s not a star in my book. A star, a superstar is the guy who does it for 10 years or so. He’s just a baby and he has a lot of things to learn. He has a chance to be good, but you never know about greatness. Will he allow himself? It’s all up to him.”

Strawberry listens to the suggestions and agrees with most of the criticism. Yes, he says, sometimes he gets too defensive at the plate. Yes, he’s trying to work harder.

“I think I’m pushing myself because of my family, because of my wife and kid,” he says. “They’re part of me now, they mean so much to me. To continue to have success in baseball, to support them, it makes me work hard and makes me concentrate on what I have to do. Also, when I don’t have good days, I can go home to something I care about--that’s my wife and kids.”

When he was growing up, Strawberry constantly wore a baseball cap. He would get up in the morning and drag a bat around the house. “Darryl was in love with baseball from the time he could walk,” Hurst says.

“Baseball was part of my life,” Strawberry says. “I never really took the game serious. It was more of a fun thing.”

Baseball is what Strawberry does best. The trick is to make sure Strawberry does his best all the time.

During a recent trip to Atlanta, Strawberry and rookie Kevin Mitchell arrived at Fulton County Stadium. It was Mitchell’s first look at ‘The Launching Pad,’ as the stadium is known.

“Man, you could hit three here,” Mitchell said to Strawberry.

Strawberry hit three homers in three days.

“Every time he talks to me and tells me he’s going to hit a home run, he does it,” Mitchell says. “He told me before we went out on that road trip that he was going to hit six home runs. He left New York without any.”

Sure enough, Strawberry hit six homers.

“Hey, I really look up to him,” Mitchell says. “He’s coming along slowly. He’s not hitting like he could hit. He’s a hell of a hitter. Sometimes it looks like he’s too relaxed. I’ll tell him, ‘Hey, you have to get your butt together. Hey, let’s get it together.’ ”

So Strawberry attempts to satisfy himself, which is just going to have to satisfy the rest of the world. He makes no promises, except that he has lofty goals. This could be the year, he says, that they become reality.

His team, league, city and media wait.

“Here’s a talented kid who’s got the world by the tail, and the sky’s the limit for him,” Carter says. “As long as he produces and lives up to his expectations, then he can just about write his own ticket.”

His expectations? Or theirs?

THE NUMBERS ON STRAWBERRY

Year G AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BA 1983 122 420 63 108 15 7 26 74 .257 1984 147 522 75 131 27 4 26 97 .251 1985 111 393 78 109 15 4 29 79 .277 1986 38 139 20 35 10 1 6 27 .252 Totals 418 1474 236 383 67 16 87 277 .260