In His 19th Season, Baltimore’s Evans Burns to Contribute

Dwight Evans’s 19th season of major-league baseball has begun as most of the others did -- somewhat sluggishly, but with plenty of promise.

His new manager and his new teammates have no complaints, and the man Evans regards as his hitting mentor says the 39-year-old outfielder looks to be as dangerous as ever with a bat in his hands.

Evans, however, is not particularly pleased with the shape of things at the moment. In fact, he’s downright irritated. And he didn’t become any happier the other day when he was asked for what seemed the thousandth time since spring training how many games he thinks his aging legs and formerly ailing back will be able to withstand in right field this season.

He said once again that he doesn’t know, contending there are more pressing concerns at this point.

Dwight Michael Evans said he wants two things from baseball these days: He wants the Baltimore Orioles to win, and -- oddly similar to some fuzzy-cheeked rookie from a minor-league dot on the map -- he wants to prove himself to the people in the clubhouse.

He said neither venture is going as planned yet. The Orioles have lost eight of their 13 games through Thursday and, in Evans’s mind at least, the respect-earning task has not been accomplished, either.

“Right now, I’m still a player who hasn’t done anything for the Baltimore Orioles,” Evans said. “That’s how I feel in my heart. There are just some unsettled things right now that will be settled in a few weeks.

“I don’t think they really know me yet. They have nothing to gauge me on. All they see is this guy who’s 39 years old. In this game, you’re constantly having to prove yourself, whether you’re 20 or 30 or 40. The problem is, when you get older, you can’t afford to go into slumps. When you’re young, it’s a slump. When you’re old, it’s just, ‘He’s too old.’ ”

If the Orioles have learned anything in the early stages of 1991, it’s that Evans almost certainly is not too old. He has made 10 starts in the outfield, where he has won eight Gold Gloves over the years while displaying one of the game’s great throwing arms.

He’s batting .286. He has not asked for a day off -- and, in fact, last weekend he talked Manager Frank Robinson out of giving him one. That Evans has only one extra-base hit has not been a cause for alarm, for he’s just a .255 hitter with 38 home runs in April during his career -- compared with a .275 mark from May to October, and with 62 his next-lowest homer total for any month.

Robinson contends Evans’s production is a given, and he professes to like what he’s seen. “I’m pleased with what he’s been able to give us,” Robinson said. “He’s been able to play on a regular basis. He’s been available to me almost every day, and I’m pleased about that. He’s not in a good groove (at the plate), but he’s still being productive. ... He can get the tough hit. He can help us without hitting home runs.”

The view from across the field apparently is encouraging, also. Walt Hriniak, the White Sox’ batting coach who was Evans’s hitting instructor for 13 years in Boston, watched Evans for three games this week in Chicago and said: “He looks fine to me. He’ll have a typical Dewey year, I’m sure. Twenty homers and 80 RBI. You can pretty much put that in the bank and see what he can give you on top of that.”

Yet Evans is restless. He’s eager to carve a niche with his new team, to produce clutch hits for the Orioles, the way he did so many times through the years for the Red Sox. But he said he still feels his body rounding into shape, still feels his legs solidifying underneath him. He said he’s not yet ready to hit home runs, that his current mechanics are such that to swing for the fences would produce only a string of popouts and pitchers tying him up with inside fastballs.

“Every season’s a long journey, and there are some hills to climb,” Evans said. His hitting traditionally has peaked in July and August, and Evans is planning the same for this season. When he talks about wanting to prove himself to his new team, he explained it’s not because he doubts his ability to continue producing the way he always has, but because he feels a need to carry his weight and contribute to a winning club, he said.

The Orioles have treated him well, he said, and he wants to reciprocate. “I may be pressing, trying to show what I can do in one day,” he said. “I have to slow down and take things day by day, one at a time.”

If all of this seems a bit tentative and insecure for a player who leads all active major leaguers in games played (and is second in runs and third in homers), perhaps it’s because Evans has been told so many times of late that he no longer can play.

Bone spurs in his back limited Evans to 121 games -- all as a designated hitter -- last year with Boston, and his 13 home runs and 63 RBI were his lowest totals in 15 and seven years, respectively. The Red Sox chose not to renew his contract, and he signed with Baltimore in December as a free agent.

It was a sudden conclusion to a distinguished stay in Boston, and Evans still wears the scars. A touch of bitterness can creep into his voice when the subject is the Red Sox, although he insists: “I’m not playing to prove to Boston I can still play. I love the game, and I’m here to do my job.” Some Red Sox players lamented Evans’s departure, with Roger Clemens sporting No. 24 on his jersey during the spring to honor his former teammate.

Orioles General Manager Roland Hemond calls Evans “a future Hall of Famer,” but Evans scoffs at any talk that does not concern the here and now. Even last season -- a year in which he spent two weeks on the disabled list and many nights lying flat on his back to alleviate the discomfort -- Evans drove in 29 runs to tie games or put the Red Sox ahead, and 10 of his homers were of the game-tying or go-ahead variety.

His final seven home runs provided Boston a lead, and from Aug. 25 onward he had five game-winning RBI.

So Dwight Evans knows he still can play, and he knows he still can help a team win. He is not, however, in the business of making statistical forecasts, particularly when the same old questions arise.

“What is the big deal whether I play or not on this day or that day?” he said. “I guess I’m a little sensitive about that. I got a little tired of people asking, ‘How many games can you play?’ I’m going to do what I can do, and that’s all.

“I’m going to do my job, and I’m going to do it well. I’m certain of that. It’s just a matter of time. I just want to get it started soon.”