Hurst Is Unlikely Villain

Through the first two months of the season, The Good Ship Padre sailed through tranquil waters. The pitching went through some rough seas and so did a few of the hitters, but nary a ripple had disturbed the team on Voyage ’92.

Alas, peace and quiet cannot last forever.

The pressures and frustrations of a 162-game season can strain patience and test emotions.

Snap.

One of the Padres skidded a bit out of control. He was seen in the dugout in what appeared to be agitated conversation with a rookie teammate. He showed up Manager Greg Riddoch. He stormed out of the dugout. He was fined by Riddoch. He slammed the manager’s door. He has reportedly demanded that he be traded.

Who is this guy?

Let’s take a trip through the roster.

Benito Santiago? Nope. Randy Myers? Nope. Gary Sheffield? Nope. Dann Bilardello? Nope. Andy Benes? Nope. Larry Andersen? Nope. Fred McGriff? Nope. Tim Teufel? Nope. Oscar Azocar? Nope. Jerald Clark? Nope. Tony Fernandez? Nope. Pat Clements? Nope. Frank Seminara? Nope. Kurt Stillwell? Nope. Darrin Jackson? Nope. Craig Lefferts? Nope. Mike Maddux? Nope. Gary Pettis? Nope. Jose Melendez? Nope. Craig Shipley? Nope. Dan Walters? Nope. Kevin Ward? Nope. Rich Rodriguez? Nope. Gene Harris? Nope.

Wait a minute, who’s left?

Tony Gwynn and Bruce Hurst?

No way. No way it’s either one of those guys.

Back up.

It has to be Randy Myers, right? He’s the loose cannon with the grenade boxes in his locker and the fastball that has exploded off bats more often than not. Surely, his frustration level must be darned near over the edge.

Not Myers. If anything, he has been calm and matter-of-fact. No tantrums here.

Then it has to be Benny Santiago, right? He is the guy San Diego fans love to berate and boo. Now, being on the disabled list and all, Benny must be ready to pop.

Not Santiago. For all of his reputation and all of the derision he endures, he has quietly gone about his business. No tantrums here.

In truth, Bruce Hurst is the villain of this piece.

It’s not that Hurst has been popping off, as Goose Gossage once did when he said Joan Kroc was poisoning the world with her hamburgers. Nothing like that.

Hurst, in fact, will do everything he can to avoid the incident turning into a media circus. When he was approached by a writer in Houston, he said: “Buzz off.” Understand that this is about as vile as the conservative and religious Hurst can or will get.

What he committed, however, was a Cardinal Sin as such things apply to the world of baseball.

You don’t show up the manager.

Never.

Protocol dictates that a pitcher being visited by his manager must not abandon his post until he is relieved. He doesn’t have to be happy. Not many guys being relieved with a 4-0 deficit are happy campers. It’s a lonely place to stand, out there on the mound, and no place to hide.

Hurst came down off the mound like an avalanche, veritably thundering toward the dugout. He flipped the ball to the advancing Riddoch with a no-look pass that would have made Magic Johnson proud. He said neither hello nor goodby. He was as cordial as a pit bull.

Riddoch, a patient man, shot a disbelieving look over his shoulder and continued to the mound to await the relief pitcher.

Hurst continued to the dugout and stormed through it and into the tunnel.

All of this was captured on television for the world to watch, as was that seemingly agitated early-game conversation with rookie catcher Dan Walters.

Had Dick Williams, for one, been the manager in this scenario, there would have been screaming and shouting in the clubhouse before the relief pitcher finished warming up. He would not have tolerated such an episode for a second.

Greg Riddoch did not tolerate it either, but he slept on it and then acted long before the next day’s game began to hopefully minimize controversy. He got a slamming door in response.

What is with Bruce Hurst? He is a veteran pitcher, the opening day starter, the rock of the rotation. He sets the example for the younger guys to follow . . . or at least he should.

He didn’t, not on this occasion.

So he wants to be traded? That’s it?

So he sets out to make himself unpalatable to the Padre hierarchy. To do this, he has to step totally out of character. Being tough and being angry are understandable with anybody, given the right or wrong circumstances, but losing control is not this man’s nature.

What gives, Bruce?

You wanna go to Cleveland?