PADRES: A MIDSEASON LOOK : First Half No Joy Ride for Riddoch

You’re Greg Riddoch, manager of the Padres. You know you’re going to be fired at the end of the season. No one has said as much, but it doesn’t take your master’s degree to figure these things out.

You had such high hopes when you took the job a year ago at the All-Star break. You thought you could turn this team around. Yet, there were so many problems, and the feuding in the front office was unbearable. You told Tom Werner, Padre chairman, that he better make some changes or the franchise would be in ruins.

Werner listened intently, jotting down your recommendations, and took action. There was one man who you thought clogged the Padres’ system, and that was Jack McKeon, general manager. No problem. McKeon was fired; Joe McIlvaine was hired.

You were elated. Exhilarated. You felt good about yourself again. This was going to be a first-class organization, and you were going to be running the show on the field. You didn’t feel particularly good about the 31 firings in the aftermath, particularly since you were being blamed, but it was for the good of the organization, right?

But then, you started to sense things were amiss. There were no arguments or anything like that between you and McIlvaine, but just this funny feeling something was not right. It was like, all of a sudden, this was McIlvaine’s show. He was the boss. You were the employee.

It started when you chose your coaching staff. You picked Jim Snyder, who you played for in the minor leagues, to become your bench coach. Maybe he wasn’t the man McIlvaine would have chosen, but he didn’t stop you. You told McIlvaine you were going to hire Larry Rothschild, the bullpen coach of the Cincinnati Reds, as your pitching coach. That’s when you were stopped.

The rest of the choices went through McIlvaine. He was the one who recommended pitching coach Mike Roarke and hitting coach Merv Rettenmund. You had never met those guys, but McIlvaine’s the boss, so you listened. At least he agreed with you when selecting third-base coach Bruce Kimm and first-base coach Rob Picciolo. But by now, it was clear who was running the team.

You went to the winter meetings in Chicago, thinking maybe now you’d get a chance to know McIlvaine, and spend all of your time together. Instead, you felt like you were a nuisance, certainly an outsider. You spent a couple of days in Chicago, and were never informed what was happening.

It sure was embarrassing when you took a flight home from the winter meetings, drove back to Greeley, Colo., and had to find out from your wife that the Padres had traded Roberto Alomar and Joe Carter for Fred McGriff and Tony Fernandez. No one from the club bothered to call.

The trend was just beginning. When reporters called for a reaction when free-agent reliever Larry Andersen signed with the Padres, you knew nothing about it. When second baseman Marty Barrett signed, you knew nothing. You had no idea the Padres were interested in third baseman Jim Presley. And you were absolutely shocked when they hired former manager Dick Williams as a scout. You even called the office to ask what was going on.

Oh well, you figured, maybe that’s the way McIlvaine operated. He was the one responsible for getting you the players, now you were going to be the one to make it work on the field.

Spring training rolled around, and although you were pleased with the way things were going, you started to become concerned. You looked at the talent, and you didn’t view the team in the same way McIlvaine did. He saw a team that would be competitive, perhaps good enough to bid for the National League West title.

You saw differently. This was a fourth-place team. Maybe even a fifth-place team. The talent just wasn’t there. But you kept quiet. You weren’t about to defuse the optimism.

The season started, the team won six of its seven games, and everybody in town became believers. McIlvaine was being credited as a genius. You were being hailed as Connie Mack. Even members of the media, who predicted the team would be buried in April, had to eat their words.

Perhaps that was the most pleasurable aspect of having at least a share of first place as late as May 10. The media couldn’t stir up trouble.

It seemed as if they were always trying to cause trouble. Did they really have to print all of Jack Clark’s comments, which were nothing less than a character assassination? And how about Garry Templeton; you knew they were going to have fun when he was released. You didn’t even want him there in spring training, considering him a troublemaker who would turn the team against you. And when the final roster was being pared down, you pleaded with McIlvaine to release him, but McIlvaine wasn’t about to let him go for nothing.

Templeton stayed until May 31, was traded to the New York Mets, then ripped you just as predicted. Actually, since you had already braced yourself, the criticism wasn’t that bad. You had more trouble with everyone else’s departing comments, such as those of Barrett and Presley, who also called you a liar.

Perhaps that’s the hardest part of being a manager, you’ve realized. It’s impossible to be everyone’s friend. You’ve found out you can’t tell a guy how much you like him, raving about his talents to his face, and then tell McIlvaine that you’d like him to dump him.

The situation has smoothed with the press. You wouldn’t call it harmonious, but it’s peaceful now. It’s as if everyone has a better understanding of each other.

The trouble is you now have a better relationship with the press than you do with your general manager. There are times you go on the road when you don’t hear from him during the trip. But when he’s on a trip, talking individually to players in the clubhouse, you become nervous.

“I’m doing what I can to the best of my abilities,” you say. “If they don’t like it, that’s their prerogative. But I’m still confident in my abilities, and believe in what I’ve done.”

McIlvaine insists no decision will be made until the end of the season. Maybe he would like to make a change now, but because Werner promised you’d be in uniform the entire season to reach the upper-level of the pension fund, you won’t be fired during the season.

Instead, you look for clues, listen for comments. You’re still waiting for that vote of confidence, but you know it won’t come. And asking for a contract extension is ludicrous.

“He’s still learning,” McIlvaine said. “I think he’s done a pretty good job, but he has a long ways to go.”

The most damning criticism of your managerial skills, you hear, is your strategy. How can a team that ranks fourth in the league in hits, only three fewer than No. 3 Atlanta, rank eighth in the league in runs?

“If there’s a valid criticism,” McIlvaine says, “maybe we should bunt more. I’m surprised we haven’t bunted as much as we have.

“It would be nice to hit-and-run more, but with (Tony) Fernandez and (Tony) Gwynn being bothered by leg injuries, and Bip (Roberts) being in and out of the lineup, we don’t have that many guys who can run.”

You say: “Let’s face it, we don’t have too many contact hitters in the lineup. And the only genuine home-run threat is Fred (McGriff).”

Of course, that brings up another sore subject. You had the opportunity this winter to acquire outfielder Danny Tartabull from the Kansas City Royals. They were asking for Roberts. McIlvaine pondered long over the proposal, but declined, fearful of the money that Tartabull would command being a free agent after this season.

You grimace every day you pick up the box scores. Tartabull is making a run to become a Triple Crown winner in the American League, batting .320 with 20 homers and 60 RBIs. You wonder what a guy like that could do to your lineup, considering the Padres have hit only 56 homers, and 31 of those have been solo, including the past 10.

It’s too late, of course, to get Tartabull. Perhaps he’ll be available as a free agent. Or maybe Bobby Bonilla will be around. But that won’t help you during this second half, being 10 1/2 games behind the Dodgers with a 40-43 record.

The biggest move that’ll be made during the second half of the season will be trading Roberts, whom McIlvaine says “has played below expectations.” Roberts is on the trading block again, and McIlvaine is entertaining several offers, this time seriously. You recommended that he be traded, and are convinced he’ll be gone before the end of the season.

It’s undetermined where Roberts will wind up, but McIlvaine has had talks with several teams, including Kansas City and San Francisco. The Padres have interest in third baseman Kevin Seitzer and shortstop Kurt Stillwell, each of whom are available. Stillwell also is a second baseman, and would provide the comfort of knowing that if Fernandez demands a trade at the end of the season, you’d have a shortstop in the waiting. You and Stillwell go back to the days when you were in Cincinnati, and it’s no secret Stillwell wants to play on the West Coast when he becomes a free agent at season’s end.

It’s also becoming apparent that the Padres will try to trade All-Star catcher Benito Santiago during the winter. Although Santiago is the best offensive catcher in the game, leading all catchers with 10 homers and 39 RBIs, the Padres are frightened of losing him to free agency after the 1992 season. They also aren’t about to pay him the nearly $20 million it’ll cost to keep him. But that trade likely won’t happen until the winter meetings, and who knows where you’ll be by then.

There also will be trades in the second half involving at least one of your starting pitchers, such as veteran Dennis Rasmussen. It’s easy to deal a starter down the stretch to a pennant contender, and Rasmussen and Ed Whitson have the most trade value among those you’d consider.

But for now, assessing the personnel at the All-Star break, the biggest holes remain at third base, second base and the bench. You still wonder why the Padres didn’t shell out $600,000 or so to keep Fred Lynn. Now, you’re left with a bench that has combined for a .153 batting average as pinch-hitters. Hopefully, Phil Stephenson will help when he joins the team, and Kevin Ward is expected to be called up when Shawn Abner is traded.

You went through six third basemen before settling on Scott Coolbaugh. He has been a pleasant surprise defensively, but you don’t know if he’ll be able to hit in the big leagues. His batting average has plummeted to .223, and he hasn’t driven in a run since June 15.

“He’s played better defensively at third than anybody we’ve put out there,” McIlvaine said, “but I don’t know if he’s a better hitter than Templeton or Presley would have been.”

Tim Teufel, acquired in the Templeton trade, has been a pleasant surprise at second base, batting .306 with 14 RBIs in 24 starts. Yet, you’d rather have him as your main utility player, and have someone such as Mariano Duncan of Cincinnati or Jerry Browne of Cleveland--each of whom are available--starting at second.

And, of course, there are the bullpen woes. The Padres have blown 12 of 32 save opportunities, and only four teams have fewer than 20 saves. You have nothing against Craig Lefferts (0-4, 4.43 ERA, 14 saves) or Andersen (2-1, 2.84 ERA, three saves), but they should be setup men, not bullpen stoppers.

“If I could have anything in the world to choose from to help this club,” McIlvaine said, “it would be getting a bullpen closer. Unfortunately, there’s not too many around.”

Said Lefferts: “Obviously, we can do better. I know I’m not putting up the kind of numbers I’m capable of. Let’s face it, our pitching is going to have to carry us. We’re not a team that’s going to go out and score more than four runs consistently.

“And if things continue the way they are, I’m sure there’ll be some trades. He (McIlvaine) obviously is not shy about making trades.”

McIlvaine is confident there’ll be a drastic improvement in the second half, particularly since the starting rotation is intact for the first time this season. And after using 39 players in the first half, and experimenting on a daily basis, the Padres at least have some answers. They found out that Jerald Clark and Thomas Howard are big league players. They found out that Wes Gardner, Calvin Schiraldi, Eric Nolte and Derek Lilliquist can’t help them.

Perhaps the only experiment remaining in McIlvaine’s mind is focused on you. Will he keep you? And if he doesn’t, who’ll get the job, Jim Riggleman of triple-A Las Vegas or Buck Rodgers, recently fired from Montreal?

“I really don’t know what’s going to happen,” Gwynn said, “but I think Greg’s done a good job. I know people are complaining that we have too many meetings. People complain about why we use a computer. People have ripped him as they’ve gone out the door. But I think we’re going in the right direction, I really do.

“But it doesn’t matter what I think. I have no control over what happens. I’d like him to be back, but it’s not my call, so you try not to worry about it.”

You sit back now in your easy chair at your home in Greeley, Colo., knowing later tonight you have a flight back to San Diego for a workout Wednesday, and the second half begins Thursday in New York. It’s going to be interesting. Maybe it won’t be fun, but you’re curious to see what’ll happen.

“I guess that old adage was right,” you say, “ ‘Never judge a man ‘til you walk in his shoes.’

“And, I’ll be honest, this is totally different than I ever imagined it would be.”