Perez Erupts After Brother’s No-Hitter

It was in April that Montreal Expos Manager Buck Rodgers called Pascual Perez “a walking time bomb.” Thursday night, Perez provided a vivid illustration in the New York Yankees clubhouse after his younger brother, Melido, pitched a rain-shortened, six-inning no-hitter.

Perez had been in a good mood, entertaining the media with his reactions to Melido’s accomplishment. The crowd around his locker had dispersed when word came that Stump Merrill wanted to speak to the pitcher, who has been on the disabled list since April 26 with a shoulder problem.

Pascual’s mood darkened immediately. “I don’t want to talk (to Merrill),” Perez said. “He can kiss my butt. Why should I talk? Nobody does anything in this . . . clubhouse. Why me? What could he want to talk to me about? I wasn’t in the game.”

When Merrill emerged from his office and approached Perez, the pitcher walked away. Merrill tried cutting him off and beseeched him to come into his office. Angrily, Perez went around him, repeating, “I don’t want to talk.” Muttering profanities, Perez left the clubhouse.

When asked why Perez was mad, Merrill, maintaining his composure, said, “I don’t know. I have no comment.” Asked if Perez was upset about possibly being sent to Triple-A Columbus, on rehabilitation assignment, Merrill said, “No. It’s a very trivial thing.” But he would not reveal the nature of the dispute.

There had been an early inning TV shot of Perez in the dugout. He appeared to be almost falling asleep as he lounged on the bench. It’s quite likely somebody in the Yankees’ hierarchy saw the TV shot, and it’s possible it upset management. When that subject had been raised earlier, Perez had said, “No, I had been concentrating. I was kind of nervous. I don’t say anything. But I watch. I didn’t even go get a drink of water. I hope he pitched a good game but we win.”

He said he almost swallowed his smokeless tobacco when Alvaro Espinoza lined the one legitimate bid by a Yankee for a hit; with two outs in the fifth, center fielder Lance Johnson made a fine sprawling catch of the ball in right-center field.

Pascual spoke of caring for Melido, 24, who is nine years younger than Pascual, in their native Dominican Republic. “He cried a lot,” said Pascual, who showed how he used to carry Melido on his hip. “We were six brothers and three sisters, and all the brothers pitched professionally.”

There was obvious pride, although, strangely, he had refused to go on TV with Melido after the game. “It’s a cheating no-hitter, but it counts,” he said with a smile. “It’s like mine (a five-inning rain-shortened no-hitter for the Expos against the Philadelphia Phillies Sept. 24, 1988), but that counted too.”