Relatively Upset With the Situation : Chris Gwynn: With a name like his, it hasn’t been easy to make a name for himself in baseball.

Chris Gwynn was feeling pretty good about himself earlier this spring as he strolled from the dugout onto the field at Estadio Monterrey in Mexico.

He was entering his second full major league season as one of baseball’s top backup outfielders. He batted .358 in his 18 starts last season and was third in the National League with 13 pinch-hits.

He was frustrated by a lack of playing time, but he was also happy that he has a chance to be an integral part of the Dodgers.

And here, as he approached the batting cage on this sunny afternoon, his new prominence was about to be revealed. A woman was rushing toward him. She carried a tape recorder and a look of awe.

Here it comes, he thought. Chris Gwynn was about to become an international star.

“Hey Tony!” the woman shouted. “Tony Gwynn! Tony Gwynn!”

Said Chris, in reflecting on the incident: “My goal is that one day, people know me for Chris Gwynn and not Tony. That is what I really want, although I don’t talk about it, because I love my brother, and I am proud of everything he has done.”

Chris continued his narrative of what it was like to be Tony Gwynn’s younger brother:

“I admire him more than he probably knows. After all, he is my brother, my family. We lived in the same house, slept in the same room for what seems like my whole life. He and Charles (the oldest Gwynn brother) had the bunk beds. I had a bed by myself.

“Tony is 4 1/2 years older than me, and so I always tried to tag along with him as a kid, I wanted to play with him and watch him play. But he would always say, ‘No, no, no, no.’ I took a lot of beatings that way. He could really slam me.

“Now, it would be different. We don’t get into any serious fights now, but if we did, I think I could take him. He may not agree, but I think I could finally whip his butt now.

“But the stuff we fight about is little stuff. Like the color of the Padres’ new uniforms. I was talking to him on the phone the other night and I said, ‘Man, those uniforms look bad.’ He got all upset, said, ‘Man, they look great. ‘ That’s just Tony.

“When I would get to tag along with Tony--maybe my dad would drive me--I really learned a lot. I didn’t know it at the time, but just watching him in Little League and high school, I really developed my own game.

“But Tony was not my biggest influence as far as how to play the game. That was because he left the house to go to college at San Diego State, just when I was starting in high school. Charles was still at home, so he was the one who helped me more, showed me how to do a lot of things.

“In fact, Tony was surprised that I even chose baseball instead of basketball. He couldn’t believe it.

“How Tony helped me was, inspiration. Helped me in ways he probably doesn’t know.

“We would drive down to see him play at San Diego State, a two-hour drive from Long Beach, in terrible traffic. Tony always played so hard, particularly in basketball. People forget what a good basketball player he was. He taught me to play hard, to work hard.

“Tony loves to give me advice and help me, but he will only do it if I ask. He thinks I would rather learn things on my own. And I would. Except it’s great to have him there to help.

“I am lucky that the Dodgers and Padres sort of travel the same schedule. We are always following each other into town, so I can always figure out what hotel Tony is staying at. And I call him, even in the middle of the night.

“He always answers the phone. And if he doesn’t, I will leave a message and he will call me back. During the season, there are messages from me or Tony scattered all through the clubhouses in the league.

“And once I get Tony, he always talks to me. For as long as I want.

“I’ll never forget the time I called him right after I came to the Dodgers for the first time. We were facing Doug Drabek of Pittsburgh that night, and when I found out I was starting, to be honest, I was nervous.

“I called him and asked him what Drabek threw. And he was great, he gave me a great scouting report. That night, I hit four bullets. I didn’t get a hit, but I hit the ball hard, and it was thanks to Tony.

“Last year, he went through some bad times with Jack Clark and all that name-calling. Tony seems like nothing bothers him, but people don’t know the other side of him.

“That side of him can snap. I’ve seen it plenty of times. Behind closed doors, he can really snap. You push Tony too far, and you’re in trouble.

“People saw that the other day when he finally said something about Jack Clark. I would have said something a long time ago. For Tony to be saying something, it had to be building up in him for a long time.

“So last year, I called him when I was in New York and he was in Philadelphia, during those Jack Clark problems, and we talked about it. He can’t understand why anybody would say anything bad about him, as hard as he plays.

“I tried to help him accept it. I told him what he always tells me, to just keep doing his job and not worry about it. I get frustrated not playing for the Dodgers, but he tells me to work hard and things will take care of themselves. So I do.

“One really neat time last year, the Padres had an off-night in St. Louis at the same time we were in St. Louis. So Tony came over to Busch Stadium. Because I knew I wasn’t going to play until the late innings, during the game we stood in the runway beside the dugout and talked.

“I was wearing my uniform, he was wearing his street clothes, and we were talking about our families, things like that. Right during the game. It’s weird, but Tony and I can talk about anything, anywhere.

“Tony loves to take up for me. He has been on (Manager) Tommy (Lasorda) for three years to play me more. There was once, in San Diego, Tony yelled at Tommy from home plate when Tony was handing in the lineup card. ‘Why don’t you play my brother?’ he yelled at Tommy.

“But it’s been worse. Last summer at this benefit dinner in Los Angeles, with both Tommy and me in the audience, Tony got up on the dais and said, ‘I just want to ask one thing. . . . Tommy, why don’t you play my brother?’

“A whole roomful of people and he says this. Then he says, ‘Tommy, my brother can hit, all he needs is a chance to play.’

“Tommy gets up there next and says to Tony, ‘Next time we see you, you’ll be seeing all fastballs--from the seat of your pants.’ It was all in good humor, but I knew I would catch it from Tommy the next day.

“Sure enough, Tommy came in to the clubhouse and acted like he was boxing with me. It was all a joke. But Tony got across a point that I could never get across. Actually, I’m glad he said it.

“Tony has always been there for me. That’s why I wonder what would happen if I ever got to first base and Jack Clark was playing there. Usually I say hello to everybody, and I would probably still stay hello to him.

(Pause.)

“Well, maybe not. In fact, I wouldn’t. I just couldn’t.”