Players’ Nickname a Little Off Key

Outlined against a steel gray June sky, the Four Tops . . .

What?

Spun again?

What are Four Tops? Are they four toys you crank up and they spin in circles? Are they what you get for the price of two when a department store has a sale?

A singing group?

In this neighborhood, they are known as Tony Fernandez, Tony Gwynn, Gary Sheffield and Fred McGriff. They are the first four batters in the Padre lineup. They are having, individually and collectively, outstanding seasons for a team that moved within 1 1/2 games of first place in the National League West with Wednesday’s 5-1 victory over Houston.

Naturally, those guys at the top were instrumental in the victory, particularly McGriff. He had a home run, double, three runs batted in and a stolen base. Fernandez had a hit, two stolen bases and a run. Gwynn had two hits and two runs.

Sheffield?

He had the day off.

Tim Teufel batted third and doubled, drove in two runs and scored another. That probably makes him an honorary top.

All this top stuff is, in truth, a little bit silly. It’s like someone felt compelled to call these guys something. Who knows who thought of it and who knows why anyone adopted it?

The namesake would appear to be the old Motown singing group. You get that feeling because every time one of these guys comes to bat the sound system blares a Four Tops song. Then the same thing happens if that hitter happens to get on base, which has been a lot.

“Why not call us the Jackson Five?” McGriff asked. “Darrin Jackson’s gotten a lot of big hits for us.”

That would be as silly as the Four Tops, of course, and he knew that.

“From a team standpoint,” McGriff said, “four guys can’t win a game. It’s a turnoff from that standpoint and it’s getting old. If D.J. doesn’t get a hit or Benito (Santiago) doesn’t do this or that or the pitching staff doesn’t keep us in the game, we lose. I don’t know how the other guys feel about it.”

The other guys, Fred, are in agreement.

Stop the music.

Take all those tapes into center field and blow them up. Let’s have another “Disco Demolition,” just like Bill Veeck had in Chicago a few years ago.

“When it first started,” Gwynn said, “Freddy McGriff and I were talking. We thought maybe when we got to first base and they started playing the Four Tops music that maybe we were supposed to turn around and maybe slide our feet.”

You know, a little soft shoe.

Other than that, Tony, how is this Four Tops stuff?

“I think it sucks, to be honest with you,” he said. “It’s a team game. It’s hard to single out four guys. I know we’ve been hitting at a level that hasn’t been seen for quite a while, but I’m not a big believer in this kind of stuff. If the fans enjoy it, so be it, but I’d rather go out and play.”

Tony Fernandez guffawed when he was asked about it.

“I don’t know why they come up with stuff like that,” he said. “It takes nine guys in the lineup and 25 guys on the roster. You put four guys out there and you lose. It’s not fair to the other guys.”

These guys, these Four Tops, are more in tune with each other than the original group ever was.

Listen to Sheffield . . .

“Maybe it was OK for a couple of weeks,” he said, “but it’s gotten old. It comes down to a team game. It doesn’t come down to if we don’t do anything then nobody else does either. Somebody else steps up and contributes. We have a lot of guys with pride.”

So take that music and shove it before these guys have to do what Bobby Bonilla did, for a different reason, and go to bat with cotton stuffed in their ears.

And take this nickname and stuff it.

I mean, batting orders have been called Murderers’ Row and backfields have been called the Four Horsemen and defensive lines have been called the Fearsome Foursome and offensive lines have been called the Seven Blocks of Granite.

Four Tops?

Get a life.

That doesn’t say anything about baseball or a baseball team. It doesn’t give you a clue what these guys do or how well they do it. It doesn’t give you a clue about wreaking havoc or striking fear or . . .

Four Tops?

If Sal Maglie or Don Drysdale or Bob Gibson was told he was pitching against the Four Tops, he would snicker and ask if they were wearing skirts.

It’s a bad nickname for all reasons.

After taking a look at the All-Star balloting, in which none of the Four Tops is leading for a starting position, it would seem another nickname might be more appropriate.

Take it from the old Miami Dolphins . . . the No-Name Defense.

What the Padres would seem to have is a No-Name Offense.

But that other one, the Four Tops . . .

Can I have a gag to go with my ear plugs?