RETURN OF THE RIPPER : Jack Clark Struggled in 1989 Until He Resurrected an Old Batting Stance and Regained His Home Run Prowess in Leading Padres

Jack Clark has been in baseball 13 seasons, played for 10 managers and been employed by four organizations.

He has been an All-Star. He has been a bum.

He has been a town hero; he has been ridiculed by what seemed to be entire cities.

“I figured there was nothing left, you know, that I already hadn’t been through before,” Clark said.

But he never imagined a slump like last season’s. It terrified him, frightened his family and closest friends, and it left him wondering for the first time if he still wanted to play this game.

Few knew the pain and torment that Clark endured. Even his teammates were unaware of his anguish.

“I never let on what I was going through,” said Clark, the Padres’ first baseman. “Until now, I never really was able to discuss it. I mean, people knew I wasn’t happy, but no one knew just how miserable I was.

“The pain was just too much. I just couldn’t talk about it. But I’m telling you right now, I’ve never gone through a more miserable time in my life.”

Tammy Clark remembers waking in the middle of the night, glancing at her husband and seeing him staring at the ceiling. The kids remember seeing their dad standing in front of a mirror, practicing his weight-shift with an imaginary bat. His parents remember the phone calls from Clark’s friends and acquaintances, all offering suggestions on how he could get out of the slump.

“I was scraping the bottom of the barrel and had such a bad taste in my mouth that there were days when I just dreaded coming to the ballpark,” he said. “I was questioning myself. I was doubting myself. Really, I was just totally, utterly disgusted with myself.

“I was even having friends calling me from high school offering suggestions, that’s how bad it was. I totally had no concept of what I was doing at the plate, and even when I got a hit, I had no idea how it happened. I literally forgot how to hit. Eventually, I just started looking for a walk every time I came up, because I knew I wasn’t going to hit my way on.”

He was convinced he’d be traded. Maybe even given away. But then he thought, who in their right mind would pay $2 million a year to a guy who was hitting .219 with only nine homers through June, having already accumulated 90 strikeouts?

“They probably had no choice but to keep me,” Clark said, “with the way I was going. I’m sure my market-value had hit the bottom of the barrel.

“I felt so bad because Jack (McKeon, the Padre manager) did so much to bring me over from New York, and here I was, letting everyone down.”

The Padres were floundering. He was being booed the moment he left the on-deck circle for the walk to home plate. And instead of becoming infuriated, Clark wondered if he was finished.

“I think we contributed to his problems, too,” McKeon said. “We put all the pressure on him. We just sat around waiting for him to hit a homer, and when he didn’t, we had absolutely nothing left to fall back on.”

Then one day, maybe it was on June 26, an idea suddenly struck. It seemed crazy. Maybe even absurd. “But with the way I was hitting,” he said, “how much worse could I look?”

Clark reverted to the batting stance he had abandoned almost 10 years ago in San Francisco. He squared his shoulders. He stood a little closer to the plate. The bat was held higher.

“I knew I was giving up on what got me my most success,” Clark said, “but I had to give this a fair chance. Really, that’s how desperate I was.”

Slowly, it came along. He got two hits on June 27, and before he knew it, he had a 14-game hitting streak. He knew he had something special going, but still the home runs had yet to come.

Beginning on July 18, they came. He launched 17 homers the remainder of the season, driving in 55 runs with a .269 batting average.

Jack the Ripper--the nickname bestowed upon him nine years ago by Vida Blue--was back.

The Padres finished the 1989 season as the hottest team in baseball, winning 29 of their final 39 games.

Oh, the team has superstars. It has six All-Star players, one former most-valuable-player award winner and eight who have played in the World Series.

But this has become Clark’s team. There is no title, and there are plenty of veterans to shoulder the burden, but Clark has emerged as the team leader, the man to whom everyone must answer.

“I think that’s why it was eating him up so much last year,” said Padre catcher Mark Parent. “More than anything, he wanted to be the team leader. But when you’re struggling, you can’t do that. Nobody is going to listen.

“You should see him now. He’s not afraid to get on anybody. He’ll get on Eric Show, (Bruce) Hurst, Benny (Benito Santiago), it doesn’t matter who they are. He’s our enforcer, is what he is.”

It’s no coincidence this spring that Santiago is much more relaxed and has become outgoing in the clubhouse. It’s no coincidence that second baseman Roberto Alomar is keeping quiet about his talents, refusing to predict his stardom as he did a year ago. And it’s no coincidence that Mike Pagliarulo, Darrin Jackson, Phil Stephenson, Jerald Clark and Parent have accepted their backup roles this season without uttering so much as a hint of displeasure.

Certainly, Clark’s influence on the Padres comes as no surprise to St. Louis Cardinal Manager Whitey Herzog. During Clark’s three-year stay in St. Louis, the Cardinals were in the World Series twice, and Clark was an All-Star twice.

“I don’t think there’s much doubt what he did for us,” Herzog said. “We haven’t been back to the World Series since, have we?”

Clark, who hit 26 homers and drove in 94 runs last year and averaged 29 homers and 98 RBIs the past three seasons, remains perhaps the National League’s best-kept secret.

He’s not a glory seeker, starving for media coverage. You won’t see him hawking goods on the airwaves. He refused to pursue endorsements after his pennant-winning home run against the Dodgers in 1985. He never involves himself in clubhouse pranks.

Jack Anthony Clark was raised in the old school of baseball. Sweat, dirt and an honest day’s effort is his calling card. He’s not particularly smooth or diplomatic when it comes to interviews.

When reporters clamor around him after games, wanting fancy, concocted answers on how he was able to hit a ball 475 feet for a homer, the reply is simple:

“When I hit ‘em right, they’re going to go,” he said.

When his right ankle begins throbbing--caused by torn ligaments that never healed properly in 1987--and the pain is unbearable, Clark just tells Padre trainer Dick Dent to wrap the ankle a little tighter. There hasn’t been a day he hasn’t played in pain since being with the Padres, he said. But if the ankle is the reason he didn’t get over and make a play that should have been made, you’ll never hear him use it as an alibi.

When he learned that McKeon decided to use him in the cleanup spot and bat Joe Carter fifth, instead of rejoicing, he wanted to talk to McKeon. He was making sure that this was not a gesture to satisfy Clark’s ego. He’s not concerned about where he’s batting in the lineup, as long as he’s in it.

People learn quickly about Clark: It’s not wise to mess with the man. Don’t come downstairs, wearing suit and suspenders, trying to tell him how to act so that your corporate sponsors are happy. Don’t tell him what to say, because he’ll say whatever he pleases. And don’t dare try to change the way he plays.

Just give him a bat and glove, surround him by teammates whose main objective is winning and weed out the prima donnas.

In the past five years, Clark has played with three teams, in two leagues in three regions. His teams have averaged a 90-72 record during the past five years. Only once did one of Clark’s teams fail to have a winning record. That was in 1986 with the Cardinals. It was the year Clark suffered torn ligaments in his right hand, limiting him to 65 games.

“The guy is a winner,” McKeon said, “and in this game that’s about the highest compliment you can make about someone. He’s a born leader, and no matter what he does on that field, he’s going to make your team better.

“Of course, I just so happen to believe he’s going to have one hell of a season anyway.”

Clark and his wife have spent the past three years decorating and furnishing their Bay Area home in Danville with every conceivable luxury. There’s a fountain in the back yard complete with a view of undeveloped green slopes and a golf course. There’s a saltwater aquarium built into the wall. There’s a billiard room. There are keypads in every room of the house, allowing anyone to listen to the music of their choice from the stereo, cassette deck or compact-disc player. He has everything you can possibly imagine and then some.

He wants to move.

Clark is waiting for the Padres to approach him with a contract extension. He’d like a four-year deal, five years would be better. The minute the contract is signed, he said, the “For Sale” sign on his house will be up, and he will comb the San Diego area for a home. Maybe Rancho Santa Fe, perhaps Del Mar, possibly Coronado.

“I want to stay right here, finish out my playing career and live here the rest of my life,” Clark said. “I really love where I am. San Diego is as good a place as there is in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m in Europe or Maui or something. Really, I just love California, especially Southern California. I love the mountains. I love the beaches. I love the weather. I even like the smog.

“This is where I want to be, and I sure the hell don’t ever want to go back to the American League. I hate that damn league. This is the real game, that stuff is make-believe. Every game of theirs lasts 3 1/2, four hours. No wonder the fans are bored over there, because so are the players.”

Though Clark says he wants to stay with the Padres, he refuses to initiate contract talks. He’s been through this so many times before, and it’s about time, he says, that he is shown respect.

“For once,” he said, “I’m going to try to test the system and believe that it will be fair to both sides. For once, I’d like them to come to me. I’m not going to go begging and pleading for a job. I just want them to be fair to me, too.”

Clark’s bitterness for baseball’s establishment stems largely from the past few years. When he became a free agent after the 1987 season with the Cardinals, they refused to give him a raise, offering him a two-year, $2.6 million contract. Not only would it be their only offer, Cardinal General Manager Dal Maxvill said, but no other teams would even submit one.

Say hello to Collusion III.

“They bad-mouthed me and told me to take it or leave it,” Clark said. “I said, ‘Leave it.’ They said, ‘Well, you’ve got two options then. Go drive a truck or go play for Cleveland.’ ”

Yankee principal owner George Steinbrenner, who never has been one to go along with the rest of the owners, signed Clark to a three-year, $6-million contract.

Say goodby to collusion.

Clark played a year for the Yankees, but he felt more like he was in a prison than in a ballpark. He requested a trade at the end of the season, and for awhile, it appeared he would be heading to the Dodgers.

But as Clark will tell you, “George hates the Dodgers.” Clark was traded to San Diego.

The bitterness of leaving St. Louis still burns deep, and the way he figures it, he wasted 1 1/2 years of his career because of collusion.

Now, he’s ready for a pay-back.

“It tees me off whenever I think about it,” Clark said. “One day I’d just love to get ahold of one of those . . . owners and let them know what I really think of them. I was the one who paved the way for a lot of these guys, and they’re the ones getting rewarded.

“I look at Will Clark’s contract (four years, $15 million), and I’m thinking, ‘Give me a break.’ How long has the guy been around, four years? And they’re just giving away money just because the guy’s eligible for arbitration. I worked my whole life for something like that, and when my turn comes for free agency, there’s collusion. I didn’t get a damn offer until Steinbrenner’s.

“And now they’re paying a guy like Will Clark like he’s in the Hall of Fame. People in San Francisco say that he’s the best player to ever play for them. The Thrill, he’s better than Willie McCovey? Right. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“That’s why this whole thing gets to me. A lot of guys like myself have had to go to war or battle just to get an offer. And now they’re giving it away.

“When my day in court comes this winter (for collusion damages), I want some pay-back, and I want it good. There’s going to be stuff that comes out that they never heard before. They keep trying to bust our union, and it’s just not going to work.

“That’s why I’d love to stay here and forget about all this bull. I want this to be my last contract. I paid my dues, now I’d like to get rewarded.”

After a hot spring and first 16 games of the regular season in which he hit .273, he struggled in the Pittsburgh series this weekend and has tailed off to .204, but with four home runs and nine RBIs. The Padres, Clark’s team, also struggled against the Pirates, losing all three games.

Clark isn’t predicting his accomplishments for the season, but considering that he feels just as good at the plate as he did at the end of last season, he provided a hint of what to expect.

“When I hit them,” he said, “they’re going to go. They’re going to go high. They’re going to go far. They’re going to go low. And they’re going to go long. And when I have that feeling, you have the feeling that you’re invincible. You feel nothing is impossible.”