They Wanted Out to Escape Doubts : If Dodger Fans Provide Relief, Howell and Orosco Should, Too

There is no easily prescribed treatment for fan abuse. Left unchecked, it often can lead to an erosion of a player’s confidence and atrophy of his ego to such an extent that a once-flourishing career can be jeopardized.

Relief pitchers seem acutely susceptible to this problem, which usually manifests itself with booing, derogatory slurs and, in the most severe form, death threats. Even renewed success is not always an accepted antidote to silence those fans who forget about the wins and magnify the losses.

Jesse Orosco and Jay Howell, the Dodgers’ newest relief pitchers, have experienced problems with fans and the media. Last season, it led to considerable unhappiness and, in both cases, an off-season trade demand.

Both short relievers are hoping that Los Angeles will be a less hostile environment and that their formerly healthy careers can be revived. Dodger management hopes so, too, since owner Peter O’Malley is paying Orosco $1 million and Howell $595,000.

“I didn’t have a fun year (in 1987) with the Mets,” Orosco said. “And I didn’t want another one like it.”

Understatement tinged Orosco’s words. Not only was he forced to give up his role as the Mets’ left-handed stopper, a title he had held since 1982, but Orosco also was routinely treated to a symphony of Bronx cheers in Flushing Meadow when he did pitch. Three times he was reportedly subjected to death threats.

Howell did not fear for his life, only his dignity and reputation as the Oakland A’s short-relief specialist. Bothered by bone chips in his right elbow, which were not disclosed to the media, Howell was heckled during introductions and booed off the field at last July’s All-Star game at his home stadium , no less.

“I thought that was absolutely bush,” Howell said.

The pitchers’ problems last season extended beyond fan abuse--Orosco fell into disfavor with Met Manager Davey Johnson, and Howell endured bone chips orbiting his elbow--but it certainly became a cause-and-effect situation.

So now the Dodgers’ new late-inning relievers, whose bitter feelings have yet to be anesthetized, have come to Dodgertown searching for a resumption of form--and perhaps purging a few personal demons while they are at it.

Both talk of a fresh start, speak optimistically of the future and haltingly of the past. All the while, they realize that the lunatic fringe of fans, Southern California chapter, is watching.

“There’s pressure anywhere,” Orosco said. “It’s just a matter of how much you want to apply on yourself.”

Life at Shea hadn’t been too great for Orosco anyway. After reaching a peak during the 1986 National League playoffs, when he won three games in relief, Orosco, 30, was pushed to the back of the Mets’ bullpen last season, like a discarded pair of shoes. Johnson turned to Roger McDowell, a right-hander, and Randy Myers, a left-hander, leaving Orosco sitting for days and nights or getting occasional middle-relief work.

What really frustrated Orosco was that he was not pitching badly when Johnson shifted his bullpen pecking order. Orosco, however, did not respond well to the erratic work schedule, and his performance suffered.

“I felt I should have been pitching more,” Orosco said. “I mean, there’s no excuse for me to get 11 (saves) out of 12 (save opportunities) and then sit down for two months. I have no answer for that. That’s over now. I try not to think of that anymore.”

At the time, though, Orosco was in an anguished state. Orosco, whose 16 saves and 4.44 earned-run average in 1987 was the worst in his career, met with Johnson on several occasions, looking for more work. But McDowell (25 saves in 56 appearances) had turned into a reliable reliever.

“It was just one of those things where they had younger relievers and it was their time,” Orosco said.

Said Alan Meersand, Orosco’s agent: “There was a real cold war between Davey and Jesse. (Johnson) wouldn’t talk to Jesse, and I had to mediate. I told (Orosco) to knock on Davey’s door and sit down and discuss it, which they did. Still, when the save opportunity arose, (Johnson) still went with McDowell.”

If Johnson wasn’t willing to talk to Orosco, some New York fans were, adding to Orosco’s angst.

The thing that really swayed fan opinion was Orosco’s comments in a New York tabloid. It was reported that Orosco called New York fans “crazy.” Orosco says he merely called them “crazy for the game,” and the papers twisted his words. The heat was on.

“After that, they were ready to kill me,” Orosco said. “My wife, they wouldn’t let her go to the stadium anymore. I’ve got to be careful what I say, because I don’t want something to happen to my wife and to myself when I go back (to New York).”

Leticia Orosco, Jesse’s wife and a native of East Los Angeles, said the abuse and death threats were festering distractions.

“I remember Jesse and I had to have a limousine escort during the (1986 National League) playoffs when we got back to New York,” she said. “Last year, after he gave up a home run in Philadelphia that cost them a game, it happened again.

“It did put a fright on him. You don’t know who to look out for. I’m afraid, even now, going to New York. You just got to try and not think about it. The threats and the bad letters, after a while he said to himself, ‘Why think about it.’ ”

Perhaps Orosco could have lived with the fan abuse had he been pitching regularly. Leticia said the frustration of sitting and waiting was worse for her husband than the criticism.

“I had stopped going to the games, but I’d wait up for him,” Leticia said. “He’d come home and I’d say, ‘Honey, did you pitch?’ Then, I’d say, ‘Maybe tomorrow night.’ But then the tomorrows go by.”

Brighter tomorrows might be on the way for Orosco, who at least will know his role with the Dodgers. Manager Tom Lasorda and pitching coach Ron Perranoski have told Orosco that he will be the Dodgers’ top left-handed reliever and to expect a lot of work.

“This is the best thing that could have happened to me,” Orosco said. “Last year, I lost three or four games out of the bullpen because I hadn’t pitched in a while. I don’t think too many short relievers can do that.

“Of the first 12 (Mets) saves of the season, I got 11 of them. Then, Roger came back (from an injury) and took over, and I didn’t get a chance for a save for two months. It wasn’t working out for me when I did pitch, but I still busted my tail trying.

“Up until ‘86, I was very much spoiled in New York. I knew when I was going to pitch. A role means all the world to you. If your manager comes up to you and tells you when you’ll pitch, consistently, it makes you bear down more in the pen. They’ve told me I’m going to be their short man.”

Orosco, who grew up in Santa Barbara and attended Santa Barbara City College, figures his homecoming to Dodger Stadium will be less stressful than working at Shea. Orosco attended only one Dodger game as a youth, but he think of Chavez Ravine with fondness. That was where he met his wife, a former Miss East Los Angeles.

“It was the first game I ever went to; my girlfriend dragged me there,” Leticia Orosco said. “I was just a spectator and we met by chance.”

It undoubtedly was the best experience Orosco has had with a fan for some time.

It was the late innings of a close game, June 22 against the Kansas City Royals, so naturally the Oakland A’s summoned Jay Howell from the bullpen.

Between pitches, Howell stepped off the rubber and raised his right arm to the bill of his cap. Halfway there, his arm locked and would go no farther.

Until that moment, Howell had thought he merely suffered from some forearm soreness for all those previous weeks. Since Howell had 14 saves in 15 save opportunities, he figured it wasn’t adversely affecting his pitching.

After the elbow-locking episode, Howell was neither physically nor mentally the same. Tests by Dr. Frank Jobe and Lewis Yocum showed that bone chips were floating in Howell’s elbow and bone spurs were evident. The cause of the forearm soreness remains a mystery.

Doctors told Howell it would not aggravate his injury to continue pitching, if he took necessary precautions. He continued to pitch, irregularly, and the nature of his injury was covered up by the A’s.

So, when Howell faltered, fans and media reacted negatively. Between late June and mid-July, Howell blew six of seven save opportunities, including one in the final game before the All-Star break.

With that failure still in the fans’ minds, Howell received scattered boos from the Oakland Coliseum crowd only moments after A’s rookie sensation Mark McGwire received a standing ovation. The booing grew in volume and rancor after Howell gave up both runs in the National League’s 2-0 win.

A few days later, the nature of Howell’s injury was released, but it was too late to change public sentiment. A player that had been popular was now a verbal punching bag.

“It was a difficult experience. I thought it was bush, but I didn’t say so because I was very vulnerable at the time,” Howell said. “But I did get an awful lot of positive mail, saying the fans were bush.

“If you were to ask other players who played on the A’s, they’ll tell you about the fans. Ask Dwayne Murphy, a six-time Gold Glove outfielder, and I guarantee you he’d tell you he never felt respected there. I don’t know why. I gave them a lot of good games, a lot of saves in three years. I gave them my desire, and when they did that (booing), to me it was the biggest blow. But now, I’m stronger for it.”

Said Oakland pitching Coach Dave Duncan: “I think it was a devastating blow to him. Prior to that (All-Star incident), he was a hero in town. Then, after the injury, he was a bum. It was very traumatic. Anytime you’re in the role he’s in, you’re the center attraction. You’re either a superhero or superbum.”

Howell said news of his injury wasn’t covered up because of chivalry. He said the A’s kept things quiet because they didn’t want other teams to know he could only pitch once every three or four days.

“As it turned out, I ended up looking bad because people would say, what’s wrong with Howell,” he said. “People didn’t know I was hurt. It was part my fault, too. I could’ve said, ‘Hey, my arm is hurt, but I’m going to continue to pitch and fulfill my obligation to the club, as long as the doctor says there won’t be any long-term damage.’

“I was proud of myself, because there were other pitchers on the club that weren’t out there pitching with less (severe) injuries than I had. Those guys were getting a bad rep (reputation), and I’ll be damned if they were going to throw me in that pile, too.”

Almost immediately after the season, but before he underwent arthroscopic elbow surgery, Howell, 32, requested a trade. Sandy Alderson, the A’s vice president, agreed that a change of place would be best.

“It was a no-win situation, if I were to come back to them,” Howell said. “I’d been there three years, and they had some young guys in the bullpen. And the fans were part of the reason. I wanted a change of atmosphere.”

Howell, a power pitcher whose fastball has been clocked up to 98 m.p.h. when he was healthy, worked on various strength machines during the off-season and has pronounced himself fit. However, he did not pitch until reporting to camp late last week.

So far, Howell has regained velocity and location on his fastball. And, like Orosco, he also appears to have renewed confidence.

“Six weeks is plenty of time to get ready,” Howell said. “I haven’t had any setbacks, which I may yet have. I’m prepared for it, but if I don’t, great.

“A lot of players will tell you that changing uniforms will do a lot for you. The fire within starts again. I can tell it here already.”