DRIVING ‘EM BATTY : Howard Johnson Has Opposition Checking for Cork, but He’s Toast of the Mets

Before proceeding, let’s examine Howard Johnson’s bat for irregularities. Why not? Almost everyone else has taken a look this season.

It looks just like any other bat, a turned slab of white ash with a blue ring painted near the knob and hardly enough pine tar applied to be noticeable. There are no distinguishing marks or suspicious deformities that suggest tampering.

Without the benefit of X-ray equipment, this cursory inspection will have to do. But it also should be noted that Johnson stores his bats in his locker, not in a wine cellar.

“Look at it,” Johnson said one recent day in the Shea Stadium clubhouse. “There’s nothing (wrong with the bat).”

Still, some around the National League have accused Johnson, the New York Mets’ third baseman who surprisingly has hit 34 home runs and driven in 89 runs this season, of using illegal bats. They claim he has inserted cork (domestic or imported?) into the barrel to increase the distance on his hits.

Three times this season, opposing managers have asked umpires to confiscate Johnson’s bat after he had hit a home run. Three times, the X-rays and inspection have showed nothing but wood.

Whitey Herzog, the St. Louis Cardinal manager, swears that a bat covertly taken out of the Met clubhouse by his operatives in July indicated an illicit substance. But he has never produced the bat.

In the wake of the Johnson hysteria, Commissioner Peter Ueberroth issued a mandate that managers may have the umpires impound one opposing player’s bat each game.

They haven’t caught Johnson, but Houston’s Billy Hatcher was ejected Tuesday night for using a corked bat. Hatcher, though, was exposed when his bat broke. It wasn’t confiscated.

The crackdown has not fazed Johnson, who will pleasantly deny corking his bat to anyone who asks. He just makes sure he keeps a large supply of bats around.

The hysteria may be fading, though. Johnson, 26, now has hit three straight home runs over the last two weeks without temporarily losing the bat in the process.

He will start a three-game series against the Dodgers tonight at Dodger Stadium just one home run away from Rip Collins’ league record for most home runs in a season by a switch-hitter. He needs only three stolen bases to become only the eighth player--several have done it more than once--to hit 30 home runs and steal 30 bases.

“I expect the talk, and it really doesn’t bother me that much,” Johnson said. “In a way, it’s a compliment. No one questions (Don) Mattingly anymore or a guy like Andre Dawson, but they will a guy who all of a sudden starts hitting (homers).”

Still, something has to account for Johnson’s startling transformation from just another guy to a power hitter in the class of Dawson, Eric Davis and Jack Clark.

Several theories are available. All are legal, if somewhat unconventional:

THE PUMPING-IRON THEORY Instead of spending a leisurely off-season savoring the Mets’ World Series triumph, Johnson went about trying to improve his hitting, in hopes of finding a full-time job at third base, either with the Mets or another interested team.

Johnson chose an extensive weight program. Already a compact 5 feet 10 inches and 175 pounds, Johnson specifically worked on building his biceps and shoulders.

“I think the weights are the pretty good explanation for my power,” Johnson said. “It was mostly free weights, using my hands, forearms and shoulders. You need a quick bat.”

THE HITTING-TEE THEORY One of the raps against Johnson, both in Detroit in his first three seasons and the last two in New York, was that he could not hit left-handed pitching, or breaking balls from either side of the plate.

Johnson admits to being considerably weaker as a right-handed hitter. So, again, he spent the winter working on it. He spent hours whacking balls on a batting tee from the right side of the plate.

“I think that rap was pretty accurate,” Johnson said. “It’s just because I hadn’t hit much against left-handers. I was much better left-handed. So, I worked at the batting tee quite often.

“I took so many swings from that side that it became natural after a while. There was a mental block there before, because I didn’t feel the confidence.”

THE ICED-TEA THEORY As soon as notoriety finds you, people recognize and publicize any eccentricity.

Johnson’s is an acute passion for drinking iced tea before and during games. One report said that he downs two gallons a game.

Said teammate Tim Teufel in a recent Sports Illustrated story: “HoJo’s so hooked to tea that his next sport may be cricket.”

THE VISUAL-AID THEORY Dr. Glenn Seifert, an optometrist who works with several sports teams, set up an off-season program to improve Johnson’s reaction time, hand-eye coordination and peripheral vision.

Using a computerized machine in which lights flash in different patterns, Johnson tried to touch the lights as quickly and accurately as possible.

Asked about this elaborate video game by one New York writer, Johnson said: “I think it strengthened my left eye. One reason I haven’t hit as well right-handed is because my left eye is not as strong.”

Apparently, all those things have contributed, to a degree, but the overriding secret to Johnson’s success may well be that he finally is playing every day.

By 1984, Johnson had become an established major leaguer. He platooned at third base with Detroit that season, but was benched by Manager Sparky Anderson in the playoffs and World Series, which the Tigers won.

He was traded to the Mets in 1985 and was merely a part-time player at third, where Ray Knight was the incumbent, and occasionally shortstop. He started only 1 of 13 postseason games for the Mets last season.

Though happy to have played on two championship teams in three seasons, Johnson also was interested in being an everyday player. He thought about requesting a trade but, as it happened, Knight took the free-agent route and signed with Baltimore.

That left third base strictly to Johnson. He has responded by playing up to the promise he had shown in the minor leagues, when he hit 22 home runs in double-A ball in 1981 and 23 in triple-A in 1982.

“Playing every day relieves a lot of pressure,” Johnson said. “You go out there every day and you just don’t think about not succeeding or anything. I’ve had a real good season, but earlier in the season, when I didn’t hit much, I think Davey (Johnson, the Mets’ manager) got it through my head that I was going to be out there every day.

“That’s when I started to play well. I expect to do well. And if I don’t, well, I’ll be out there the next day.”

Even though Johnson is more likely to win a Silver Bat than a Gold Glove, he said that playing every day has helped his suspect fielding, too.

He said: “I just look at it this way: If I make an error, OK. I’m not worried and I won’t put pressure on myself. I’m really not different than a lot of guys in the field.”

At the plate, though . . . When Herzog started the corked-bat speculation a few months ago, he said of Johnson: “He looks like Babe Ruth. I know he’s not that strong.”

Roger Craig, the Giant manager who was Detroit’s pitching coach when Johnson played for the Tigers, said he asked to have Johnson’s bat checked because he didn’t recall him every being such a power hitter.

There are, however, managers who have given Johnson credit and aren’t openly suspicious.

After Johnson had hit his 33rd home run Monday night to beat San Diego in the 10th inning, Padre Manager Larry Bowa said: “Nobody wants to admit that the guy is just having a great season.” Another Johnson supporter is Tom Lasorda, the Dodger manager. “I don’t know why they are checking his bats,” Lasorda said. “Did anyone ever say (Johnson) didn’t have power? Look at his minor league stats.

“Now the guy’s playing every day, so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t hit 30 home runs. Now, if (light-hitting Pittsburgh shortstop) Rafael Belliard hit 30, then let’s check it.”

Still, there are those accusations. Steve Peters, a former clubhouse man for Detroit’s triple-A team in Evansville, Ind., telephoned a USA Today reporter about two weeks ago and said that, in 1982, he handled corked bats for Johnson. Peters said he later cut open a bat and found “a half-inch of lead, a lot of cork and a plug.”

Johnson would not comment on the claim by Peters, now an assistant baseball coach at Ball State University.

Johnson did say, however, that he feels the accusations and hysteria will slacken if he consistently hits for power.

“It’s always got to be something,” Johnson said tonelessly. “Everybody’s got to have a reason why something happens. People can say what they want to say. They’ve proven the ball is not lively, and as far as I’m concerned, they’ve proven my bats are not lively. But I know there always will be people who’ll say, ‘I know he corks it.’

“Well, let ‘em.”