Pettis Is Due Patience, Not Fans’ Jeers

Gary Pettis isn’t in a slump, he’s in a pronounced droop. Angel fans regularly boo him. Management recently introduced him to the bench. Only Peter Holm and Delta are having worse years.

At the center of Pettis’ troubles is a .210 batting average, which places him next-to-last among American League hitters with 255 or more at-bats. He strikes out often, once for every three visits to the plate. His last and only home run of the season came when two outfielders knocked the bejabbers out of each other while chasing an infrequent Pettis drive. In his last 33 at-bats, he has three measly hits; in his last 64, nine hits. Since May 28, Pettis has a whopping three runs batted in, for a grand total of, tah-dah, 12.

For this, Pettis has been received about as well as Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi in Sri Lanka. He can do no right, make no amends. When he strikes out, as he did with the bases loaded against the Detroit Tigers last weekend, Pettis is a bum. When he glides toward the gap, plucking some sinking line drive out of the air, it’s, “So?”

Not long ago, during a recent game at Anaheim Stadium, Pettis found himself the object of a heckler’s abuse. One can only imagine:

“Hey, Pettis, I’ve seen better swings at a playground.”

“Hey, Pettis, have them check the bat for balsa.”

“Hey, Pettis, was that an ocean breeze or another strikeout?”

Pettis usually ignores such taunts. They are part of the game, as common as Cracker Jack and hot dogs. Anyway, Pettis has a theory: Show no emotion.

“Maybe I don’t show my anger when things aren’t going right, but that’s part of Gary Pettis,” he said. “I try to appear that nothing is bothering me. I don’t go around slamming down helmets, throwing my bat around. I don’t want the pitcher to know that he got the best of me, or anybody for that matter.”

But this time, as the heckler persisted, Pettis lost his temper. For the first time in his career, Pettis said, he yelled back.

“That’s not me, but I was mad at myself,” he said.

This is Pettis: two Gold Gloves, about 51 stolen bases each season, a batting average in the mid-.200s, flashes of fulfilled promise.

Remember last year’s American League Championship Series against the Boston Red Sox? Through the first four games, Pettis was the likely choice for Most Valuable Player. He hit .346 with one home run and four RBIs. One-dimensional, eh?

An arbitrator thought so, ruling that the Angels were obliged to pay Pettis only $400,000 this season rather than Pettis’ request of $550,000. Pettis attended an arbitration session and left disenchanted with management’s methods.

Still, he arrived at spring training with raised expectations, as did Manager Gene Mauch.

“I was around .260 last year (he hit .258), and I felt that I could at least do that,” Pettis said. “Actually, I felt I could do better than I did last year. I’ve just made the situation tougher on myself. I don’t blame anyone for what’s happening to me. I’m the one.”

Said Mauch: “Plan A had him hitting .265, .270 . . . steal 75 bases, score 100 runs. But when it got down to .211, I had to take a step back.”

Plan B apparently called for occasional bench time, which Pettis grudgingly accepted. He didn’t demand a trade, though rumors were plentiful. He didn’t attack the nearest water cooler. When a leading question is dangled in front of him, there for the taking, Pettis politely declines comment. “I don’t want to get into throwing stones,” he says.

Pettis is an easy target for criticism, not only because of his batting average and his knack for strikeouts, but because of his demeanor. By revealing little emotion, Pettis becomes more a ballplayer and less a person. It’s like booing cardboard.

But for all his stoicism, Pettis still manages to wear his feelings on his jersey. By his own admission, he is wound as tight as the new juiced-up ball. He is intensity personified on the field; guarded, but sensitive.

Visit Anaheim Stadium four hours before game time and you’ll probably find Pettis taking extra batting practice. New stances. New swings. Hit down on the ball, he is told. Pettis has tried everything. “We may have overloaded his circuits,” says Moose Stubing, the Angels’ batting instructor.

Stubing has listened to the boos directed toward Pettis. Each one, he says, takes its toll.

“I think it has to hurt him as far as his pride goes,” Stubing says. “I think it’s got to hurt a guy who has the ability to make them stand up, clap and cheer.”

Pettis isn’t alone, of course, though sometimes it seems as if he is. Glance at the Angel averages recently? Shortstop Gus Polidor is hitting .217 as a replacement for the injured Dick Schofield, who was hitting .237. Rookie second baseman Mark McLemore has a .220 average. Third baseman Doug DeCinces is at .239, outfielder Ruppert Jones at .209.

To his credit, Mauch hasn’t acted hastily. In the recent Detroit series, Mauch replaced Polidor and McLemore with pinch-hitters but kept Pettis in the game. An odd move or a show of confidence? Most likely, the latter. Although surely frustrated with Pettis’ lack of production, Mauch has continued to supply chances at the asking.

The Angels need Pettis as much as he needs them. Without his Plan A offense, the Angels have crept within 1 1/2 games of the AL West lead. Think of what might happen if Pettis resurrects, say, the swing he used against the Red Sox last September.

“There’s still a long way to go,” he says. “If I can find something to get my consistency, I can still catch up. I know I can’t make up for the season I’ve had so far.”

Here’s to hoping the Angels don’t forget Pettis’ good old days, which, by the way, weren’t that long ago. That, they owe him.