Baseball ’90 PREVIEW : Chili Davis Proves He’s Worth His High Production Values : Dependable: Outfielder comes through in clutch, and doesn’t seem to mind that his reputation fails to match his achievements.

L et’s talk run production.

Chili Davis led the Angels in runs batted in again last year, becoming only the fourth player in club history to lead that category for two consecutive seasons with 90 or more each year.

How about clutch hitting?

More than one-third of Davis’ RBIs either tied the game or put the Angels ahead. Seven of his team-high 22 home runs were three-run shots.

Recognition? Fame? Glory?

Call Don Mattingly.

Claudell Washington says of Davis: “My brother does not get his due.” General Manager Mike Port, with a bent for elocution, feels pretty much the same.

“Other fellows, for whatever reason, are more frequently acknowledged as being tough in the clutch or get more notoriety given similar RBI production,” Port said. “But this is a guy who enjoys playing and gives you a lot of effort and time out on the field, very productive time at that.

“He very quietly drives in 90 runs a year. It’s also the manner of the man, though. You’re not going to find Chili soliciting a lot of attention.”

Davis is in the second year of a three-year contract that pays him $1.375 million for this season and $1.45 in 1991, so it’s obvious Port isn’t one of those who have overlooked Davis’ contributions. And that, Davis says smiling, is the kind of notability he values most.

“I’m not looking for recognition . . . just money,” he says with a laugh. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ve done anything all that great to be plastered on the cover of Sports Illustrated every week.

“Ever since I came into this game, I’ve been in that slot where you’re going to come up to bat a lot with runners on base. And you’re supposed to drive those runs in because that’s what you’re being paid for. Some guys are paid to get on base and score a lot of runs. Some guys are paid for defense. Pitchers are paid to get guys out. I’m paid to drive in runs.”

But don’t let Davis’ a-day’s-work-for-a-day’s-pay spiel fool you. He may project a cavalier image, but he’s not the type to take the money and run. Or even take the money and jog out a ground ball, for that matter.

Davis’ determination to win surfaces when he least expects it, such as when he dismisses his run production with another “just-doing-my-job” routine.

“Anyway, it’s not the runs that you drive in that you think about,” he said. “It’s the ones you miss. If you finish a year with 150 RBIs, you’d still think about the 50 you missed.”

That attitude was an important factor in the Angels’ decision to shell out $4.1 million and give Davis a three-year contract. They like the way he bats, but they admire the way he battles even more.

“The single most important thing for Chili is winning,” Port said. “He will call me several times over the course of the winter, wanting to know what’s on tap to improve the club. And every time he sees me, he flicks his fingers. He wants a World Series ring. That’s his No. 1 priority.”

Actually, that’s his No. 1 dream. His top priority is to maintain his self-esteem and enjoy the game . . . while it lasts.

“As long as I’m playing and I’m not cheating myself, not dogging it, I’m happy,” Davis said. “What disappoints people is if you’re not giving the 100% you owe yourself, the organization and the fans every time you go out there. If you goof up giving 100%, well, it’s going to happen. But if you goof up giving 50%, then people aren’t going to accept it. And you shouldn’t accept it.”

Chili knows goofing up. In 1988, he set the team record for errors by an outfielder with 19. Port says that season of defensive discontent was an aberration. After being switched from right field to left field last year, Davis made just six errors.

But the images of that infamous, early-1988 string of miscues--often the highlights of the evening news sports segments--don’t easily fade from memory. And Port thinks the defensive lapse is still robbing Davis of deserved renown.

“The only rationale that I can offer is that maybe some of what Chili Davis is as a man and what he means to this club is a tad overshadowed by what people recall from two years ago, when he was in right field, when he struggled defensively and was off to a slow start with the bat.

“Perhaps, as is human nature, people formulated opinions then and have overlooked the fact that he has meant a lot to this club.”

Davis seems genuinely unaffected, however, and he’s certainly not going to waste any time pouting over a lack of attention.

“I’m only going to play so long and when it’s over, it’s over. I started out in center field, moved to right and then moved to left. Probably, a couple of years down the line, I’ll DH. And before you know it, I’ll be riding around the field in a golf cart.”

By that time, the Angels hope their Davis has more rings than Sammy Davis Jr. And, considering the apparent strength of the American League West again this season, they’ll need another healthy dash of Chili power if they hope to cook up a trip to the World Series.

Last year, the Angels were 16-4 in the games in which Davis homered. They came up eight games short of tying for the division title. Davis, 30, figures he can chip in another eight homers and match his age. So, if all else remains equal . . .

“Joe Morgan once told me that he hit his peak at 30 years old,” Davis said. “So I’ve gauged myself for 30. I’m expecting a real big year, not just for me but for the team.

“I think 30 homers is a very reachable goal. It’s just a matter of starting off the season well, getting some balls and driving them. I need to start off with a couple of months of hitting .350 and poppin’ some balls. You’d like to have maybe 15 at the break and carry on after that.”

The Angels had the fifth-best record in baseball last year. From June 23 to Sept. 1, they never were more than three games out of first and they even had a 2 1/2-game lead in late July. But the bubble burst in September, when they went 2-8 against Cleveland, Kansas City and Texas.

“We had a lot of guys who hadn’t played together, but we blended well and we were a good team in a tough division,” Davis said. “We won a lot of games but it just wasn’t enough. It’s obvious we’re going to have to go out and really bust our butts.”

Davis showed up in Mesa, Ariz., after the lockout looking quite trim, probably close to the 210 pounds he’s listed at in the media guide. Last year, he showed up for spring training looking, well, to use his own word, “fat.”

He worked hard this off-season, thanks in part to a suggestion by a certain interested party who has been known to ask his players to step outside when he felt it necessary.

“I had a guy tell me and a few other players at end of the season last year, ‘You guys are all going to be 30 next year, so come to camp in shape.’

“He once said that he’d take any of us on and I didn’t feel like fighting him. So I came to camp in shape.”

But when you ask Davis to identify the party in question, he laughs and says, “Gene Autry.”

Doug Rader loves having Davis in his lineup. The Angel manager likes all those line drives and the rare luxury of a having a switch-hitter with bona fide power from both sides of the plate.

He also thinks Davis sets a great example. He says Davis is a team leader.

Don’t tell Chili, though.

“This team doesn’t need leaders,” Davis says. “We’ve got a manager who’s been around. Everybody here is the type of player who takes care of himself.

“I hate that tag. You do something for a few years and all of a sudden, boom , you’ve got to be a leader. What the hell are you going to lead? People are going to be people. I’m not Moses or somebody.”

When appraised of Davis’ rather forceful feelings on the subject, Rader smiles and politely disagrees.

“He’s wrong. You do need leaders. You need people to set examples. Unfortunately, most people perceive a leader as a rah-rah guy and that’s ridiculous. The leaders are the people who govern themselves properly and set good examples. In that respect, Chili Davis meets my criteria for being a leader.”

As much as he shuns the role, Davis isn’t so humble as to refuse to give a tip to the younger players who want to learn how to swing a big stick in the big leagues. His advice: “Don’t listen to anyone’s advice.”

“Hitting is just a matter of experimenting, constant experimenting, to find out what works best for you. And when something works, you stick with it. And once you start catching up to pitches you couldn’t hit before, the pitchers will change and you’ll have to go through the whole routine all over again.

“Why do you think Wally Joyner hit 34 home runs one year and 13 the next? Can you say Wally is no longer a home-run hitter? With that swing and the power and the contact he makes?

“Eventually, you hope to find an approach that will enable you to hit the pitch inside and the pitch out over the plate and hit the fastball and the curveball. But you’ve got to find it for you. Nobody’s going to find it for you.”

Davis, who believes he will have a banner year if he can raise his average as a right-handed hitter to .270 (he hit .245 from that side in ‘89), did seek some help during the off-season, however. He spent some time with former Angel Rod Carew, refining his approach against left-handed pitchers.

“We adjusted a few things,” Davis said. “I have to take charge of home plate this year and be more aggressive. I’m not the kind of hitter who’ll go up there and pick a pitch. If I see something close enough to hit, I’m going to swing at it.”

But Davis also knows that you could sell your soul to the devil for Ted Williams’ swing and it wouldn’t do you any good without the right mental approach.

“When you’re confident, you know you’re going to get a hit and when you get a ball to drive, you don’t ever miss it,” he said. “But as soon as you start wondering when it’s going to end, that’s when you lose it.

“A lot of guys start out having great years, but they don’t really believe it. When you’re swinging the bat that well, you’ve got to remember it is you doing it. It’s not a dream.”

A large portion of hot Chili could be the key to a dream season for the Angels, and if Port can work a trade for another run-producer to bolster the lineup, Davis may see more pitches to his liking in 1990.

“I’ve always been an aggressive swinger, but over the years I’ve learned which pitches I can hit hard and which pitches I can’t,” he said. “Pitches that I can hit hard, I really go after. The ones I can’t, I just try to place and take whatever they’re giving.”

It he takes enough of what they’re giving, he might get what’s coming to him: a little respect.

CHILI DAVIS’ MAJOR LEAGUE CAREER

YR TEAM AVG G AB H 2B 3B HR RBI SB 1981 Giants .133 8 15 2 0 0 0 0 2 1982 Giants .261 154 641 167 27 6 19 76 24 1983 Giants .233 137 486 113 21 2 11 59 10 1984 Giants .315 137 499 157 21 6 21 81 12 1985 Giants .270 136 481 130 25 2 13 56 15 1986 Giants .278 153 526 146 28 3 13 70 16 1987 Giants .250 149 500 125 22 1 24 76 16 1988 Angels .268 158 600 161 29 3 21 93 9 1989 Angels .271 154 560 152 24 1 22 90 3 Totals .268 1,186 4,308 1,153 197 24 144 601 107