Back in the Swing, Yankees’ Don Mattingly Shrugs Off Criticism

Don Mattingly is aware that some people are saying that he’s no longer the player he once was.

“I don’t agree with it, but sure, I hear it,” Mattingly said. “I would never think it’s not fair that guys like (Jose) Canseco and (Will) Clark get mentioned, now. Numbers don’t lie. You can’t take away from what any of them are doing.”

But what of Mattingly’s statistics?

They look pretty good right now -- after a big weekend series against Boston. In his last three games, Mattingly is 7 for 13 (.538) with three doubles, two home runs and 10 RBI, and he has improved his average to .295.

Because of a slow start, the questions concerning Mattingly’s skills swirled for the second straight year. Not that he was ever officially coronated, but from 1984 through 1987 he was considered the best baseball had to offer.

Mattingly won a batting title in 1984, hit a record-setting six grand slams and had an unprecedented eight-game home-run streak in 1987. There were three consecutive 30-plus home run seasons before he turned 27. Mattingly was well on his way to rivaling the achievements of Ruth and DiMaggio, Williams and Gehrig, Mays and Mantle at comparable ages.

Lou Piniella, who has been Mattingly’s friend, confidant, one-time manager and constant hitting guru through Mattingly’s six-year career, said, “I know that a couple of years ago, if you asked people to choose one player they would want to build a franchise around, the vast majority would have said Mattingly. But in three or four years, the names change. They always do. It’s cyclical. Now it’s Canseco and Will Clark. But you watch. In three or four years, the names will have changed again.

“But that doesn’t mean Don Mattingly isn’t the same great player he was. He’s still an excellent ballplayer.”

When you used to be the people’s choice and suffer the slightest fall, it’s news. Especially in New York. Even more so if you’re a Yankee.

Mattingly knows why the doubts start.

“It seems that every year, people will write early, ‘What’s wrong with Mattingly?’ Then, by July, they forget about it,” he said. “When I end up strong, you never hear about it. Sure, I would like to change those slow starts. I don’t accept them. But I don’t dwell on them and try to start fresh every year.”

After 26 games this season, he was batting .220 with no homers and 11 RBI. In 1988, Mattingly was hitting just .239 on April 23. He did not hit his first home run until May 10, his 32nd game, ending the longest homerless stretch of his career.

Last season, however, his traditional mid-season takeoff was derailed by another disabling injury -- a rib cage muscle pull. He never did get back on the Mattingly-like streak. Thus the 1988 numbers, which would have been more than acceptable for most players but were quite out of the ordinary for Mattingly.

“My off-year was last year, but that was just one year,” said Mattingly, who hit .311 with 18 home runs and 88 RBI. “I think I’m capable of having another monster season. I want more than 88, 90 RBI.”

Mattingly does not pine for the 30-home run seasons. He does not disagree when asked if the 35, 31 and 30 from 1985 through 1987 were an aberration and, therefore, a curse.

“I think it can be,” he said. “I’ve always considered myself a 20-25 home run guy. When I’m swinging the bat well, I hit the ball on the line, to the opposite field. That’s when I’ll hit a lot of doubles. That’s when I hit the ball hard. Not that I can’t hit 30 home runs again. But I know that if I try, that’s when I get in trouble.”

It’s one of the few points on which Mattingly and Piniella differ. When Piniella says he believes Mattingly is the same player, he adds one qualifier: “Outside of the fact that he’s not hitting as many home runs.”

Asked if he agrees that the current Mattingly is the real thing as opposed to the 30-home run hitter, Piniella says, “No, I don’t buy that at all.

“When you’re a left-handed hitter with a quick bat, when you play in a small ballpark with a pull field, you should expect to hit home runs. And he’s capable of it.”

If so, why only 18 last year and six this year?

“They pitch him differently,” Piniella said. “Everybody knows him now, so they also know how to make it tougher on him. And last year, he had (Jack) Clark and (Dave) Winfield in the lineup. Without them, he doesn’t get the same pitches or the same opportunities. Everybody’s pitching him away.”

And, Piniella said, “I’m sure the back has something to do with it.”

A bad disk in Mattingly’s lower back landed him on the disabled list for the first time in 1987, breaking a string of 355 games played. This spring, back spasms cost Mattingly a start in the season-opener.

Recently, the back made front page headlines in a New York tabloid, when it was reported the Yankees had a secret medical file hidden in a vault that warns that Mattingly’s career is jeopardized every time he takes the field because of the disk problem.

The Yankees deny the file exists, as does Mattingly.

“I know people talk about the back,” Mattingly said. “Some of the stuff is ridiculous, really. I don’t even talk about it, because there’s nothing to talk about.

“I don’t think about it. It’s not bothering me, so it’s not on my mind. Sure, I know I have to take care of myself. And I do. But that’s not so much for baseball as it is for me, and the kids. For after baseball.”

The seasonlong struggles of ’88 were compounded by his increasing dissatisfaction with events off the field. Last season, in perhaps his first unwise public relations move, Mattingly stepped out of character and made a brash forecast the Yankees would win the pennant.

Worse yet, he guaranteed it, something the fans and George Steinbrenner never let him forget. It did not help that he was struggling in his first season in baseball’s exclusive $2 million-a-year club. By mid-season, Mattingly was worn, mentally and emotionally, and withdrawing by the day.

“I got fed up with a lot of things,” Mattingly said. “I didn’t get burned out, but I got tired of all the ... . Not just baseball, but all the other stuff that gets so magnified in New York. But I thought about it a lot over the winter and decided I would try to have more fun.”

He is, Mattingly insists, except that his personal outlook is muted by the Yankees’ struggles. Still, he has refused to let any of the new spate of doubts generated by this year’s slow start anger him. And he laughed off the “secret file in the vault” expose.

“It didn’t make me mad because it didn’t hurt me or my family,” he said. “The people that matter, the people in this clubhouse, know I can still play.”

His numbers prove him correct. Mattingly has been on a tear in the last 31 games, hitting .354. He has driven in 29 runs and has had only five hitless games since May 14, a span of 25 games.

“In the past few weeks, I’m more and more confident,” he said. “And as long as you have that confidence, you don’t press, you know you’re still there. You’re not afraid to wait on the ball, hit the right pitch. That’s the key. That’s what confidence does for you. It lets you know, deep down, you can still play this game.

“It doesn’t matter what other people say. It’s what you know in your mind and in your heart that counts.”