Christenson on Brink of a Two-Fold Mission : Baseball: Conejo outfielder hopes to help deliver a Legion title before embarking on a two-year trip for the Mormon Church.

Someday soon, outfielder Brent Christenson will begin the search. The kid with the rifle for a right arm will begin rifling through his chest of drawers. The guy who lugs around the loudest bat in the Conejo Valley again will load his luggage.

The most important piece of leather he packs will not be the one he usually wears on his left hand, but the small, wallet-sized document he will carry in his right.

Christenson, whose baseball career already has taken him to England, Switzerland, the Netherlands and Germany, will soon be off on another adventure. But first he has to find his passport.

“I can’t remember where I left that thing,” Christenson said. “I’m going to have to dig it out.”

Out is precisely where Christenson figures to be, and very soon. Christenson, perhaps the best player on the Conejo American Legion baseball team, is readying for another series of trips.

Conejo (38-4) will begin play today in the state Legion tournament in Yountville, Calif. If Conejo places first or second in the six-team field, it will advance to regional competition. With a victory in the regionals, Conejo would play in the World Series. Conceivably, it could mean two to three weeks on the road.

Beyond that, however, Christenson is looking at a two-year trip--out of the country. Christenson, who is of the Mormon faith, said he expects “any day” to hear where he will spend the next two years serving on a church-sponsored mission. He plans to leave later this month.

“It could be anywhere in the world,” said Christenson, who toured Europe last year as a member of the U.S. Junior National team.

Donde esta Senor Brent? In a few weeks, the answer may lie to the south. Christenson (6-foot-1, 190 pounds) studied Spanish for four years at Thousand Oaks High, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if he is sent to Latin America.

No matter where Christenson lands, odds are that he’ll fit in just fine. After a superlative senior season at Thousand Oaks in 1990, Christenson earned a scholarship to Brigham Young, which Utah residents refer to as “The Y.”

After baseball began, why was a question Christenson asked himself regarding the sanity of playing in the high altitude of Provo. He wasn’t exactly prepared for BYU’s baseball combination of fastball, curveball, snowball.

“Wyoming was freezing,” said Christenson, who rubbed elbows with the Cougars’ Heisman Trophy-winning quarterback Ty Detmer and basketball star Shawn Bradley. “And it was about 40 below when we played the Air Force Academy.”

Ballplayers at BYU work out indoors at the team practice facility when the weather is poor. Infielders snag grounders on an artificial surface. Hitters work out in elaborate indoor batting cages. Outfielders?

“Sometimes, we’d go out and take fly balls in the snow,” Christenson said.

There was once a time in high school when Christenson thrived under adverse weather conditions. During a game against rival Westlake in 1990, Christenson batted against Mike Eby (now at UCLA) with two out in the seventh.

Thousand Oaks had a runner aboard and trailed, 3-1, as Christenson grabbed a bat. He had just returned to the team after a long bout with pneumonia, and the elements had conspired against him. A stiff wind was blowing in from left as Christenson, pale as a bucket of milk, squared off against Eby and nationally ranked Westlake.

“Everybody was leaving,” Christenson said.

The ball exited too. Christenson, who bats right-handed, homered over the fence in left to tie the score and Westlake won in extra innings. Christenson finished his senior year with a .444 batting average, six home runs and 27 runs batted in. He hit two homers in his final high school game as Thousand Oaks fell in the third round of the Southern Section 5-A Division playoffs.

While Christenson’s numbers at BYU weren’t as chilling, they were respectable for a freshman. Christenson hit for power, belting a double and two home runs in 38 at-bats, and batted .184 in 22 games. He played mainly as a reserve in left and right field for BYU, which finished 35-15.

Adjusting to the teeth-chattering climate was not the only challenge. Christenson, 18, was one of the youngest members of a team filled with players who had spent two years on a church-sponsored mission, then returned to play.

“I was kind of nervous about it all,” Christenson said. “There were some guys on the team who were a lot older, like about 25, and some who even had kids running around.”

Back on more familiar turf, Christenson has shined with Conejo this summer. The most valuable player of Conejo’s 1990 Legion team, Christenson first considered playing this summer in a collegiate league in either Kansas, Alaska or Massachusetts.

He decided to play with Conejo because he knew he might be sent on a mission before the summer baseball season concluded.

“I didn’t want to leave a team hanging in the middle of a season,” he said.

So this summer, he has been hammering hanging curves from the middle of the Conejo lineup. Batting in the cleanup position most of the season, Christenson is hitting .372 with eight doubles, four triples and four home runs. He has driven in 32 runs.

Within the numbers lies a story. Christenson is so intense when he digs into the batter’s box that he could probably squeeze sparks out of the bat handle. The kid with the angelic looks takes a devilish hack.

“Anybody who’s ever seen him play knows he never gets cheated at the plate,” Conejo Coach Craig Sturges said. “He has a lot of pent-up aggression that he takes out on pitchers.”

Perhaps, as they might say in Provo, Christenson needs to chill out. Christenson, in fact, has been occasionally razzed by the opposition for the grunt that he emits when he takes a cut.

“I play hard, and sometimes I have a problem being relaxed,” Christenson said. “It doesn’t bother me as much as I used to.

“I have a lot of energy. I like to use it playing sports.”

Before Christenson’s sophomore year, he decided to play football. Christenson, though, wasn’t exactly the biggest brute in school. Scrawny was more like it.

Fully aware that he would need more upper-body strength to play football, Christenson hit the weights. Playing football didn’t, well, work out. Yet Christenson continued to do exactly that.

“I hit the gym really hard,” he said. “I still do it to help work off stress. I’m still in there maybe five or six days a week.”

That might be a conservative estimate by Christenson, a conservative kid capable of bench-pressing 325 pounds.

“He’s in the gym every waking hour he’s not playing baseball,” said Sturges, who nicknamed Christenson “Mr. Muscle.”

Others might call him Mr. Who? For the umpteenth time, the spelling of Christenson’s name has been mangled almost beyond recognition. It used to be spelled incorrectly in newspapers, lineup cards and the like. This summer, he was issued a uniform top with lettering across the back that reads, C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N-S-E-N. Thus, he has played all season under an assumed name. “I’m used to it,” he said.

Adaptation again will play a role in his life over the next two years, when Christenson likely will leave the country--and definitely will leave college baseball--behind. Sure, he’ll be on a mission while he’s gone. He’ll be on one when he returns too.

“It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” he said. “Hopefully, I can stay in shape and get back into (baseball). I think I can come back and go on as I have been.”

He can always pack his glove. Who knows, if Christenson gets lucky, he might be assigned to baseball-happy Latin America.

There, if anyone actually utters donde esta Senor Brent?, it might just be someone looking for another outfielder.