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In Don Baylor, the Red Sox Got the Clubhouse Enforcer They Desperately Needed : Designated Hitter and Designated Leader

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Times Staff Writer

Had he spent the entire summer with the New York Yankees, platooning because owner George Steinbrenner didn’t think he could still hit right-handed pitching, Don Baylor suspects he might be thinking about retirement.

Instead, Baylor is thinking about Gene Mauch and the Angels.

He is thinking about the pivotal decisions that Mauch, the Angels manager, made during the 1982 playoff against the Milwaukee Brewers. The Angels led 2-0, then lost the best of five series, 3-2.

Baylor was the Angels’ designated hitter then. The hurt is still apparent.

“That should have been my first World Series,” he said.

“It was a real disappointment to come that close and let it slip away.”

Should it have happened? Baylor doesn’t think so. Now, however, he has another shot and is hoping to deal with the distasteful memory of that 1982 October in the same emphatic manner with which he responded to the distasteful memory of Steinbrenner.

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Traded to the Boston Red Sox March 28, Baylor went on to hit 31 home runs--26 off right-handers--and drive in 94 runs as the full-time designated hitter, helping drive the Red Sox to the American League East championship.

Part of what Baylor meant to the Red Sox is not seen in the statistics. The DH is also the DL, the designated leader, the clubhouse enforcer, judge of the kangaroo court and what Manager John McNamara calls “the glue,” a conduit between the manager and players.

Baylor’s reputation preceded him. Steinbrenner could not besmirch it.

“He walked into the clubhouse that first day and everyone knew who the leader was,” said Roger Clemens, a 24-game winner and leader in his own way.

On a team long noted for individualism, for something of a country club atmosphere, Baylor helped accelerate a change that the manager already had initiated.

And in the process, perhaps, he helped accelerate the decline of the Yankees, a favorite in the East.

Said Baylor: “Considering where I started the spring, it was divine intervention that brought me here. Of all the teams I’ve been with, this is the best.

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“I mean, in my wildest imagination I didn’t believe George would trade me to another Eastern Division team, but in his mind I was washed up, done.

“It’s been a fun year answering all the challenges.”

The year isn’t over, of course. Now there is the playoff against the Angels. Now the memory bank opens to Mauch. Is this a vendetta?

“I’d by lying if I said it didn’t matter,” Baylor responded, alluding to the Angels’ playoff presence and to his memory of the ’82 playoff.

“I spent six enjoyable seasons with an organization that has produced only one MVP (Baylor won it in ‘79). I was with them the only two times they had won the division (before this year).

“The adrenalin will be on automatic, but you can’t relive the past. I’ll try to get on base, drive in some runs, do what I can to beat them.

“But I’ll be out to beat Witt, Sutton and McCaskill. I’ll leave Mr. Mauch to Mr. McNamara.”

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Baylor left Anaheim as a free agent in the winter of 1982. He preferred to stay, he still insists, but wasn’t offered an appropriate contract from Buzzie Bavasi, then the Angels’ general manager.

“You lose players like Nolan Ryan and myself without compensation and it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “There was never any continuity when I was there, but Mr. (Gene) Autry (the owner) treated me far too good for me to want to leave. I just couldn’t stay for the contract I was offered.

“Buzzie kept saying I was asking too much for a player who didn’t play in the field.

“He has said he offered me as much or more than the Yankees did, but that’s not even close to fact.

“He just wasn’t going to sign me and I think it was more personal than anything. I don’t regret leaving under the circumstances.”

Baylor suspects that Bavasi may have been angered by his role as player representative in the 1981 strike or the fact he testified on behalf of outfielder Bobby Clark in a salary arbitration Clark won or an incident stemming from a 1981 program cover that pictured Baylor with Fred Lynn and Rod Carew.

Bavasi was quoted as saying, “What’s Baylor doing with those hitters?” Baylor stormed in and out of Bavasi’s office, saying he was retiring.

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Jim Fregosi, then the manager, talked him out of it.

A year later, as he had in ‘79, Baylor helped lead the Angels to the playoffs. He hit 24 home runs. He drove in 93 runs. Then, in the five playoff games against Milwaukee, he drove in another 10 runs only to see them wasted.

Baylor sat at his Fenway Park locker, a trace of emotion still evident in his voice.

He cited Mauch’s decision to skip Ken Forsch in Game 4 and pitch Tommy John on three days’ rest.

The Brewers won, tying the series and forcing Mauch to start Bruce Kison, who had a blister on his pitching hand, in Game 5.

“It was as if they were using 25 players and we were using 24,” Baylor said. “Kenny had pitched for us all year and done a good job, but he didn’t even warm up (in the playoffs). T.J. hadn’t been pitching on three days’ rest. He wasn’t prepared for it.”

Then Baylor cited the decision to let right-hander Luis Sanchez pitch to the left-handed hitting Cecil Cooper in the seventh inning of Game 5 as Andy Hassler, the Angels’ left-handed relief specialist, warmed up in the bullpen. Cooper delivered the hit that drove in the winning run.

“It came down to that one at bat, letting Sanchez pitch to Cooper,” Baylor said. “Mauch had played the percentages all year. Now he has Hassler ready in the bullpen but doesn’t use him against one of the best left-handed hitters in the game. I mean, that was the same year that George Brett had called Hassler the toughest left-hander he faces.

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“Everyone throws the book away at times, but that still sticks out in my mind, and I know it sticks out in everyone else’s as well. We all think we can manage, of course. Gene did it his way. I’d have probably done it differently.

“We had a club that could have and should have been the world champions.

“I don’t know how Gene felt in ’64 (when his Phillies lost a 6 1/2-game National League lead with 12 to play), but I know how I felt going over to that other dressing room (to congratulate the Brewers) and thinking we should be the ones doing the celebrating. It wasn’t very pleasant.”

Baylor departed amid the negative vibes, accepting a five-year Yankee contract, including an option year, at $4,175,000. The Angels reportedly offered $2.6 million for five years. Baylor was asking a reported $5.5 million.

Bavasi insisted at the time that there had been nothing personal, that it was strictly a business decision involving a player who didn’t play well in the field and who had asked the Angels for considerably more than he received from the Yankees.

“I don’t think it’s fair for the public to perceive us as cheap when Don ends up signing for $1.5 million less than he wanted from us,” Bavasi said.

In each of his next three seasons in New York, Baylor hit 21 or more home runs and drove in 85 or more runs.

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It was in midseason of ’84 that Steinbrenner instructed then manager Billy Martin to initiate a DH platoon incorporating Baylor and Ken Griffey. Dan Pasqua later replaced Griffey. Why a platoon? Baylor still doesn’t know.

“George loves you until he trades for you or signs you as a free agent,” Baylor said. “Then he gets something in his mind about you and nothing can change it no matter how disruptive it is to the team.

“I had 51 RBIs at the All-Star break (in ‘84). I was two or three behind Don Mattingly, who was leading all of baseball. I’ve always been a second-half hitter, but then they began platooning me. We were two games out and I couldn’t help. I had to sit and watch other people play. Baseball should be fun, but the fun went out of it for me.

“I mean, it’s tough enough facing a hard-throwing right-hander without worrying about an owner saying you couldn’t hit right-handers or knowing that you had to hit or wouldn’t get another chance. It’s tough enough playing in New York without the added pressure of dealing with an owner like that.

“I know that if I had gone back this year I would have been miserable. George told me at one point that I’d play only 27% of the time. He had calculated how many left-handers there are in the league. He would have wanted to prove a point with me just like he did with (Dave) Winfield (who was platooned some this year). I’d be sitting home now thinking about retiring or going free agent after my option year (1987).

“Now I’m relaxed. Now I’m thinking about playing two or three years beyond the contract I now have.”

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Baylor said he felt compassion for the Yankee players whose trade requests haven’t been satisfied. He said the stability there, shaky at best, has been replaced by total chaos. The weight of the unfulfilled expectations, he said, will fall on Manager Lou Piniella, but belongs on the owner. The chemistry that was once there, he said, is gone.

“If people like Yogi Berra and Phil Niekro weren’t appreciated there, I know it was best for me to move on, too,” he said.

The Yankees attempted to satisfy Baylor’s trade requests by sending him to the Chicago White Sox last winter as part of a multi-player package that would have brought them Carlton Fisk.

Baylor, with a no-trade clause in his contract, rejected the move because of Chicago’s refusal to guarantee 1987, his option year.

Said Baylor: “It was the smartest move I ever made considering what happened to the White Sox. That was another Bronx Zoo this year.”

McNamara, meanwhile, also had been pursuing Baylor because of his career history in Fenway--17 home runs, 65 RBIs and a .350 average--and his influence in the clubhouse. McNamara had seen it in ’78 when he coached for Fregosi. He had urged the Angels to retain Baylor when he returned to manage the club in ‘83, but the plea was ignored.

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Said McNamara: “If you sit in this office with the title on the door you need a guy out there to act as the glue, someone you can go to and say, ‘Hey straighten that guy out before I have to bring him in here.’ I’ve only had to do that with Donny a couple times, but you need that foundation. Sometimes the front office doesn’t realize it.

“I don’t know what constitutes a leader, but Donny has a dignity and an air to him. He’s an intimidating player, but he treats people with respect. He and Tom Seaver are two people who I felt could really complement this club and they have. They are not the total reason we won, but they helped with their ability and by what they contributed to the chemistry and work ethic.

“I mean, this was supposed to be a country club for a lot of years. You’d read how 25 guys would take 25 cabs. Not anymore. All of that has changed.”

McNamara didn’t get Seaver until July. Baylor arrived in the last week of spring training in exchange for left-handed hitting DH Mike Easler.

Baylor, 37, said it was a new life. He said he felt as if he were 21. The Red Sox guaranteed his option year. McNamara wrote his name in the lineup against both right-handers and left-handers. Dwight Evans asked him to initiate his kangaroo court, the judicial process by which fines--most in the $5 to $10 range--are levied for such offenses as missed signs, failure to advance a runner and giving up a two-strike hit.

Evans said he viewed it as an opportunity for constructive criticism in a fun atmosphere and a nice way to tell someone he messed up. He said it was a vehicle by which everyone could be brought together to talk baseball.

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Jim Rice was appointed team captain in 1985, but he is basically an introvert who remains uncomfortable with reporters. Baylor has deflected much of that media pressure, according to team sources, and nurtured a measure of animation from Rice, whose locker in the back corner of the Boston clubhouse no longer seems as distant.

Baylor also is said to have helped Dennis (Oil Can) Boyd wrestle with the demons of his psyche, though that is an ongoing process and not always successful.

Most listen when the muscular Baylor talks.

There was the incident in Texas, for example. Tim Foli, the Rangers’ third-base coach, had been drilling Boyd with verbal needles. Baylor stepped out of the dugout, tapped Foli on the shoulder and reportedly said: “Keep it up and you’ll lose your head.” The needling stopped.

At other times Baylor’s leadership is seen in the aggressive way he breaks up double plays or his calm acceptance of the fact that his body is often used for target practice. He was hit a league record 35 times this year. His career total is a league record 227.

Reflecting on his arrival with the Red Sox and subsequent role, Baylor said: “It always looked to me like there had been a lot of individualism here, like this had been a team that didn’t enjoy winning or had fun playing the game.

“But it’s not my style to walk in and say, ‘I’m here, follow my lead.’ I play hard, talk about it on the bench and try to set an example. I sensed that guys were paying attention but I came in walking on eggshells.”

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Baylor believes that the moment of complete acceptance came June 18 in the finale of a three-game sweep at Yankee Stadium.

In the ninth inning of a 2-2 tie, Rice was walked intentionally and Baylor followed with a bases loaded double off right -hander Brian Fisher to give the Red Sox a 5-2 victory.

“I got to second base, looked out at our bullpen and saw all the guys on their feet waving and yelling for me,” Baylor said. “Then I looked in the dugout and everyone was jazzed there, too. I never even thought about pointing a finger up at George. To go into New York and get 7 hits in 12 at-bats and have the team react like it did, that was enough for me. The script couldn’t have been better.”

Inevitably, of course, Steinbrenner responded, predicting Baylor’s bat would be dead by August. Now it is October and the bat lives. Now it is October and Baylor, remembering 1982, is back at work on the script, preparing what he hopes will be a perfect ending.

DON EDWARD BAYLOR Stepping up to erase past disappointments. 5 OLAYOFF SEASONS, NO WORLD SERIES. . .YET

Year Club AVG G AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO SB 1973 Baltimore .286 18 405 64 116 20 4 11 51 35 48 32 1974 Baltimore .272 137 489 66 133 22 1 10 59 43 56 29 1979 California .269 162 628 120 186 33 3 36 139 71 51 22 1982 California .263 157 608 80 160 24 1 24 93 57 69 10 1986 Boston .238 160 585 93 139 23 1 31 94 62 111 3

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