Hurst Watch May Have Inhibited McKeon Deal-Making

Jack McKeon’s “lemonade stand” in the lobby of the headquarters hotel for baseball’s winter meetings would have had two signs.

One would have said: “Catchers ‘R’ Us.”

The other: “Come West, Young Man.”

This was a man with two distinct interests when he went to Atlanta, the only commonality being that success on both fronts would likely make the Padres the early-book favorites to win the National League West in 1989.

Obviously, the Padres’ general manager was quite concerned with making sure the Padres’ manager has championship-caliber personnel at his fingertips. The man who wears two hats also thought it might be nice if his team were wearing a crown.

What he had in mind, of course, was trading minor league catching star Sandy Alomar Jr. for a shortstop or a third baseman or a left fielder or a center fielder or, preferably, all of the aforementioned.

And, of equal consequence, he wanted Boston left-hander Bruce Hurst to defect to San Diego. The accomplishment of this task would fall to Dick Freeman, the interim club president, but that did not keep McKeon from being just a little interested in the proceedings.

These moves, in tandem, would make this a much better ball club than the one that won the World Series a couple of months ago.

There was a hangup, however.

The Young Man has not been able to decide whether he wants to stay east or come west. Should the decision be to come west, he then will have to decide where in the west . . . San Diego or Anaheim. Or maybe he thinks he will wait around just in case St. George, Utah, gets a franchise, so he can play close to his parents’ home.

The incredible thing about the situation with Bruce Hurst has been that the longer it goes, the more complicated and lucrative it becomes. Hurst himself may well be the most surprised man in the world.

You see, this man is not Roger Clemens or Dwight Gooden or Mike Scott. This man is a good pitcher, a solid pitcher, but not exactly a marquee star with the Hall of Fame as a forwarding address. He has had one year that might be called a million-dollar year, even at today’s inflated salaries.

To Hurst’s good fortune, that million dollar year was 1988. He was 18-6 with an earned-run average of 3.66, an exceptional ERA for a left-hander with Fenway Park’s Green Monster lurking at his back.

Hurst’s other 6 years with the Red Sox could probably be described as average to maybe slightly above average. He had two .500-plus years, two .500-on-the-button seasons and two sub-.500 seasons.

And so this man became a free agent, undoubtedly thinking he would sample the market the way one might dip a toe into a swimming pool to test the temperature. He could not have expected to get swallowed whole by a bidding war of the magnitude he encountered.

What has happened is that baseball’s owners, a tight-fisted bunch of late who have been twice convicted of collusion, veritably tossed their wallets at this man. If Tim Raines had been a free agent in this market, he would probably be making $3 million a year.

Consequently, Hurst found himself with a very difficult decision.

I mean, he found himself being courted by three ballclubs and three owners and three communities and three lifestyles. Boston wanted to keep him, and even the mayor begged him to stay. The Angels wanted him, and Gene Autry even called him and probably offered to sing a few verses of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to his kids. San Diego wanted him, though I don’t think Shamu was dispatched to do tricks in his swimming pool.

In fact, the Padres have taken a more low-profile approach to this situation. Freeman has stressed quality of life as well as quality of the organization. He has sensed, correctly, I suspect, that this is a family-oriented man who will respond more to solid values than ostentatious wooing.

Overwhelmed, perhaps, by the outpouring of interest, Hurst became hesitant to make up his mind. While he waited and contemplated, more and more dollars were tossed in his direction. The bidding began to get crazier and crazier, and the decision became more and more difficult.

By late afternoon Wednesday, I expected to hear that Gorbachev had entered the bidding. How many rubles would it take to get Hurst to become the cornerstone of a Moscow franchise?

All of this indecision has had a down side in terms of Jack McKeon’s other chores in Atlanta.

McKeon really went to Atlanta with the idea of making a major trade or two, but the Padres’ efforts in this area have been inhibited by the fuss about Hurst.

McKeon’s shopping list included Dale Murphy, Shawon Dunston, Jim Presley, Tim Wallach, Joe Carter, Brook Jacoby and Mike Pagliarulo, among heaven knows how many others. This was obviously a rather optimistic list, but these were directions McKeon thought he might realistically go.

But a problem has obviously surfaced. McKeon’s most valuable bargaining chip, his surplus of young catchers, must not be as marketable as he hoped. His plan was to keep Benito Santiago, since he has already established himself in the major leagues, and trade the up-and-coming Alomar instead. The problem, of course, is that it is not lost on McKeon’s counterparts that Alomar has yet to establish himself as a major league talent. It would be just a little bit risky to trade a veteran star for such an unproven commodity.

Thus, McKeon has had to do a bit of shuffling, trying to wrap a package that will catch someone’s eye.

Meanwhile, Jack McKeon has had to keep one eye on Bruce Hurst. Dick Freeman may be the man in charge of getting this pitcher to look west to Mission Valley, but the general manager can’t help but thinking how much the manager would like having the guy in his starting rotation.